Falling For Her Bad Boy Boss (Island Girls: 3 Sisters In Mauritius)

by Zee Monodee

  “Come on in,” Kunal said from the other side.

  He pushed the door open and stopped in his tracks at the sight of the chaos in the room. Clothes lay piled everywhere, textbooks opened and upside down on all surfaces, and shoes littered the floor. A laptop sat in one corner, apparently the only clean area in the bedroom. He located Kunal on a bed—more like a heap of sheets and duvets—in the left. A TV played opposite it, images of 3D animation flickering on the screen hooked to a black device on the floor.

  Logan had to clamp down on the sudden pull of emotion tugging at him. This room looked remarkably like Tyler’s when he’d been growing up. Bugger, he missed his brother. He’d try to contact him later; the agency’s office in London would have to have a number where he could be reached, wherever he was in the world.

  He shook the thoughts of his brother away and walked into the room, trying his best to sidestep the stuff littering the carpet to find a space where he could land his feet safely. He glanced at the boy and sighed with relief. Kunal didn’t appear much worse than usual. His skin looked paler, his nose red, but otherwise, he seemed fine.

  “How’s it coming along?” He stifled a curse when he tripped over a dumbbell.

  Kunal laughed. “Sorry for the mess. Mum’s on my back to get it cleaned up.” He snickered. “I feel great, but Mum insists I must stay in bed.”

  So she should, both for the cleaning and for taking it easy. “Will your mum be back soon?”

  “She’s gone out to get some groceries at Spar. She should be back in a little while. The store is at the end of the road.”

  Logan nodded and indicated towards the open door. “So that was Suzanne, the smart mouth diva?”

  Kunal nodded. “I hope she came across as pretty normal. I’d hate for you to think we’re a family of loons just because of her. Can you believe it? She wants to be a model.”

  Logan chuckled. He understood the fraternal spite. “She’s a very beautiful girl. She could very well make it.”

  Kunal grimaced. “Don’t let her hear you. She’s already got a big enough head as it is.”

  “So, what’s up? What are you doing while you’re stuck here?”

  “Mum relented and brought the PlayStation out. Okay for a little while, but it’s getting boring as I got no one to play with.”

  “What about your brother?”

  “The bookworm? The kid must’ve been born in the Middle Ages. All he cares about is reading.” He huffed. “Hey, you wanna try it?”

  How long since he’d last played video games? Ages.

  “I’m not very good at them.” But, what the hell! He could still try. Hadn’t he decided to take Kunal under his wing? “What have you got?”

  “Gran Turismo or Tekken?”

  “Bring on the cars, and pass me a gamepad.” The kid had enough of kicks and blows already in his life.

  A few minutes into the game, and he had to admit he was enjoying himself. What fulla wouldn’t love the thrill of racing, anyway?

  They were tied at a one-one when the front door slammed closed and a feminine voice called, “I’m home.”

  “There’s someone with me, Mum,” Kunal yelled back, without pausing in his game or taking his attention off the screen.

  Logan barely heard the boy’s words. The woman’s voice thrummed through his head; along with it, a sneaking suspicion he knew who it belonged to. Not simply Kunal’s mother, but someone he met every day. And a woman he tried very hard to obliterate from his thoughts at every single waking minute.

  How could this be? Her name was Neha Hemant. Not Neha Kiran.

  The tell-tale rustle of her flowing skirt swishing around her ankles reached his ears as she approached the room. He’d come to know the sound almost intimately, pausing every now and then to hear her walk past in the corridors at the office. The shuffling note stopped when she paused by the doorway.

  A trickle of anticipation, like awaiting an impending, fateful moment, ran down his spine, making him stiffen, his hands closing on the game pad in a tight grip.

  A waft of her light, sweet scent reached his nostrils, and he couldn’t deny it any longer as the sensory overload kicked in.

  He however had to be sure, with his eyes, and thus, he turned towards the opened panel. Somehow, he knew he would see her, but acknowledging her presence there felt like a fist in his stomach.

  “Hi, Logan,” she said softly.

  “Neha.”

  She smiled, a confident smile; yet, there also floated a hint of embarrassment on her features, colouring her cheeks.

  The silence lingered between them, until she travelled her gaze onto her son. “Kunal, how many times have I told you to clean this place? Look in what state Logan has found it in today.”

  The boy gave her a cheeky smile. “Soon, Mum. Promise.”

  She looked back at Logan. “Have you been here long?”

  “No. I got in a little while ago.”

  “I’ll be down in the kitchen. Something’s on the stove. Come down later. I’m sure you could do with a drink in this heat.”

  “Cool, Mum,” Kunal replied, his focus back on the screen again.

  “Cheers,” he mumbled as she left.

  Logan tried to force his mind back on the game, but try as he might, he couldn’t. The revelation that Kunal’s mother, a woman he already respected and admired without knowing her, had turned out to be his news editor baffled him, to say the least. That’s why Suzanne had appeared so familiar—she had her mother’s eyes. He hadn’t been able to put two and two together all this time because she and Kunal didn’t share the same family name; he’d thus not grasped the connection with Neha. She’d even listed her name as Neha Kiran on the boy’s admission papers at the gym. Neither of them had also told him of their relationship. Why?

  Should he ask Kunal about it? He was still a kid, though. Kids didn’t sweat the small stuff. He craved some answers and was determined to get them.

  “You know your mother and I work together?”

  “Yeah.” Kunal hit the gamepad so hard, it was a miracle the buttons didn’t break. Across the screen, his car crossed the final line in first spot. “Yay!”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me anything?”

  A shrug. “Mum told me not to.”

  What? Why would she do that? Neha owed him an answer; he could let Kunal off the hook.

  After another few rounds of gaming, when Kunal had won three times and Logan two, he left the boy and made his way downstairs. Noise came from the back. At the foot of the stairs, he inched towards the side where he could get a clearer view of the kitchen.

  Neha moved around the room, at ease in the surroundings, going from the chopping block near the sink along the back wall, then back to the big simmering saucepan on the stovetop at the far left of the room.

  Inching closer, he made sure his steps came out soundless as he paced down the carpet strip leading to the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway.

  She must not have noticed him yet, intent on her cooking tasks, or she wouldn’t appear so casual. Unless she was one of those sociopathic people who could manipulate those around them. He frowned. Neha, a manipulator? Not likely, but then, too, she had kept her family tie with Kunal a secret. She hadn’t trusted him. Come what may, he had to know.

  He peered a little more intently. She seemed lost in her world, flowing with an inherent grace.

  How come he’d never noticed it?

  Because, a little voice replied, he took painstaking care to avoid looking at her at the office. There, she was his employee, and he couldn’t allow them to be anything more than what they were professionally.

  But here, things were different. They were different.

  He’d never seen her dressed like in today’s clothing. She’d had a light jacket on when she’d come by Kunal’s room, but had discarded it. She had one of her foamy, flowing skirts on, but the top she wore was an unusual sight for him. The frock gathered at her waist, to flow smooth and soft down the wai
stband of her skirt.

  With thin straps running along her shoulders, the bodice bared a lot more of her décolletage than she usually showed. The clothes shimmered in light green, but against the pallor of her translucent skin, the colour appeared much deeper. Her shoulders struck him as delicately rounded, her throat and neck graceful.

  What a beautiful woman.

  Someone who also deceived you.

  Damn it, was he a masochist?

  She stepped closer to the saucepan, stirred it with a wooden spoon that she took out. After softly blowing on the sauce, she brought the spoon closer to her lips.

  “No one’s ever told you not to eat from the pan?” he asked.

  She jerked and gave a startled gasp as the spoon flew in the air, a dab of red sauce landing under her collarbone and throat. She grimaced, a flicker of pain passing over her features for a split second.

  Bugger. The liquid had been hot. He eyed the crimson drop against the whiteness, and suddenly, he yearned to wipe it. With his tongue, so he could taste her skin.

  Shaking the image away, he stepped into the kitchen, ambling past the U-shaped counter to reach her side in a few strides. She remained where she stood, not uttering a word, as if frozen. Bloody hell, had that thing burnt her so much?

  *

  Neha watched him approach, drawing closer and closer until he stood inches from her.

  He’d startled her with his comment. How had she not heard him coming? Or in Logan’s case, how had she not smelt him coming? She could usually pick up the subtle hint of his aftershave from yards away. She closed her eyes. Blame it on the basil and oregano aromas lacing her kitchen while she prepared Bolognese sauce.

  When she opened them again, he stood right in front of her, his gaze plunging into hers. Blast it, how could she move? The splattered sauce on her bare skin stung and bit her, but she barely noticed. What troubled her more was how Logan kept staring at her.

  She would bet a glimmer of fire had flashed in his eyes when he’d been standing on the threshold. How intense had it been for her to have noticed it from a yard away?

  He broke eye contact and edged towards the countertop, reached for a napkin, and then wiped the soft fabric gently on her décolletage to clean the sauce.

  Her skin erupted in electrifying pinpricks where he brushed it with the thin cloth, because she clearly felt the heat from his touch through it. His felt like a delightful warmth—hot, but not burning. Enough to throw her senses in wild disarray, but not enough to make her melt.

  She craved to melt under his touch. In his embrace.

  Neha gave herself an inward slap. What could be wrong with her? Why did she respond to Logan this way? He was only being nice, and here’s how she reacted.

  But, then again, Logan had never had nice gestures for her. Nice words, maybe, a couple of times, but that’s as far as it had gone. Why was he acting this way all of a sudden?

  None of them had yet spoken. The silence hummed heavy between them, yet, strangely, didn’t oppress. It even struck her as comfortable.

  If this didn’t prove enough to send her warning bells racing, she didn’t know what would.

  The memory of his question flittered in her dazed mind.

  “Food tastes better from the pan,” she said.

  He frowned, as if shaken off-track, but he regained his composure quickly.

  “It’s also what my mother used to say.” A heavy pause settled, which he then broke. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “About what?”

  “Kunal.”

  “What about him?”

  Neha averted her eyes. The question she dreaded. She’d known this day would certainly come, but she had never really thought about what she’d say. In all her scenarios, none had played out with ideas of her wanting Logan’s touch, in her own home, on top of everything else.

  Shaking the disconcerting notion off, she took a deep breath.

  I’m in my kitchen, my territory. Not Logan’s, as is the case with the station. Logan stood on uncharted terrain here, so she might as well use this to her advantage, slim as it may be right now.

  After prolonged silence on his part, she ventured in. “I’d like to think this wouldn’t have made a difference, but it would have.”

  “What?” A deep frown marred his forehead.

  “I wanted you to like my son for who he is. Had you known he was mine, you’d have looked at him differently.”

  He appeared to ponder her words, since the frown deepened. “I wouldn’t have.”

  Sincerity hung heavy in his tone, as well as disbelief.

  “Maybe, but I couldn’t take the risk.” She paused. “I figured you’d find out soon enough. And by then, you’d know him for who he is really. Not as my son.”

  He didn’t reply.

  Watching the impassive mask creep into his features again, a small trickle of dread seeped into her heart. She didn’t want the hard man here with her. “You never made the connection between us?”

  “You don’t share the same name. I checked.”

  She cringed. Right. Better she came out with the truth right away. “I didn’t take on my husband’s name when we married.”

  He refused to bestow it upon me. She turned away so he wouldn’t witness the hurt that must’ve painted itself on her face. Rahul had wanted her to exist as her own person. She, on the other hand, had wanted nothing more than to be a part of his life and everything he was.

  “But you’re listed as Mrs. Neha Kiran on his records at the gym.”

  She shrugged. “It’s easier to let people believe I am Mrs. Kiran rather than Ms. Hemant. I know which battles to pick.”

  Had she just said those words?

  Neha bit her lip. “But forget about me. I wanted you to discover what a brilliant lad Kunal is, to come across his own worth untainted by any association with me.”

  “He wouldn’t have been tainted. You did a fabulous job with him.”

  “Thank you.” Her voice held a tremor. She quelled it. “You decided to become his mentor, right?”

  “Trust me. He bowled me over with his prowess at beating up a punching bag.”

  She made a face, at the same time strong pride ran through her. “He’s good, innit?”

  Logan nodded. “He could go very far. As could your daughter.”

  “Suzanne? What about her?”

  He nodded towards the stairs. “Kunal said she wants to be a model. She could really cut it.”

  “Oh, that.” Drat, he seemed to know so much about her family. “I prefer not to think of it,” she said softly. “I hope Suze behaved herself when you arrived?”

  Logan smiled, probably not realizing she’d shoved the topic to a less loaded one.

  “You have nice kids. You’ve done a good job with them.”

  Stunned by the unusual compliment, she remained speechless for a few seconds. “Thanks.”

  He nodded. “It also never crossed my mind you could have such grown-up children.”

  Neha smiled, almost against her will. People could say whatever they wanted, but it did feel nice to know she didn’t resemble the old, ragged mother she felt like.

  Silence settled between them again.

  Logan broke it. “I better get going. I’m sure you have lots to do.”

  “Not really.” Don’t go yet! “Would you like something to drink? You’ve been here for so long and must be thirsty.” She all but blurted the words.

  He stared at her for a long time, and shook his head. “I’m not sure that’d be a good idea. I really should go.”

  Something in his tone resonated in her. A note of warning, maybe. Why, though? Could this unexpected proximity be affecting him, too?

  Yeah, right. The man must have his pick of available women. And she was his employee, for goodness’ sake.

  “Thanks,” she said. “For everything you’re doing for Kunal.”

  “I enjoy helping where I can,” he replied softly, before he turned and took a few steps away.<
br />
  She took his cue and followed him out of the kitchen to the front door.

  On the opened threshold, he turned to face her.

  “You did a great job with these kids. Keep on looking after them like so.” He stopped and softly added, “And look after yourself, too.”

  With her throat clogged by emotion, Neha only nodded. She then closed the door on a departing Logan.

  For a long moment, she stood riveted to the spot.

  What exactly has happened today?

  And worse, how had it changed her relationship with Logan? He had shown paternal concern for Kunal there, revealing more of the human being he hid from the world. How could she see all this and not be affected?

  All this couldn’t be for the better, especially with her emotions and her heart involved.

  Chapter Five

  Could this Monday get much worse? Not possible.

  Logan sighed as he stretched back into his office chair. A third of the staff had called in sick with the dreaded lurgy, and the remainder of the radio anchors had sore throats, or worse, no voice.

  Worst of all, he’d gotten another call from Pam. She’d be late. Again. He ran a weary hand over his face, the bristle of his two-day stubble scratching his palm. He hadn’t shaved during the weekend, not bothering since he wasn’t supposed to be on screen for the news for the last Saturday and Sunday of each month. He’d also been awfully busy with work behind the scenes.

  He probably looked like the wreck he felt himself to be, but then again, who cared? Not him. He had a station to run. Bugger, why had he agreed to take on this mad job?

  Coffee. The magic brew would help. In the past, a handle of beer or a glass of whisky had worked even better, but gone were his boozing days. With a pang, he remembered those times of oblivion, and how it had taken the death of his mother, all alone in her house while he’d gone hopping from pub to pub, and a stint in rehab to get him to clean his act. Pain engulfed him at the thought, the knowledge he’d live with the regret of not having been there for his mother in her final moments forever burning a trail in his heart and soul.

  He shook out of the destructive spell. Whenever he went down the road, a shot of alcohol sounded like such a saviour. Nothing but a conniving lure, though. Alcohol would solve nothing, only make everything worse when he’d awaken from the erringly blissful nothingness.