A stab of memory hit Krish as he felt the coarse handmade envelope—the type that his mother loved to use. He raised it to his nostrils, almost expecting to inhale the warm scent of jasmine that she always wore in her hair. But all he got was the smell of musty old paper. He opened it almost reverentially and began to read. The letter was dated on that fateful day when he had returned from the US on his father’s summons, and his plans of going to Harvard had nearly been vetoed. But his mother had come to his rescue; somehow she had made KD see reason. He had asked his mother many times how she had done it, but she always laughed at him and said enigmatically, ‘You enjoy the fruit; don’t worry about the seed!’ He had a feeling that all would be revealed tonight.
As he read the words his mother had written more than ten years ago, he could feel her presence. Her loving hands riffling through his hair, her eyes soft with love and pride, her heart, filled with an unspoken sorrow. And she had spilled out that sorrow in this letter. She begged him to forgive her for promising to KD that when their son turned thirty, he would do as KD wished—become the heir to his business empire. Only on that condition had KD agreed to let him go to Harvard and build his career as a management consultant. How heartbreaking it must have been for her to make such a promise. And that too, when she had known how much he had wanted to build his own career, independent of his father’s control, seeking his own space in the sun, creating his own career path. But what choice did she have? KD had given her none. It was an either/or option and she had tried to make the best of the situation—for him.
He struggled to cope with his emotions—anger at KD’s insensitivity, hurt for his mother’s pain. As he folded the letter carefully back into the envelope, he knew that, unlike his mother, he did have a choice. He could walk out of KD’s house and renege on the promise that she had made to KD. He could throw his father’s money in his face, walk out and never look back. With that one act, he could be free from the stifling shadow of KD. For ever. He could choose to be a son who didn’t do the honourable thing—of being the dutiful son. The irony was that his father, who so revelled in tradition and patriarchal values, felt no remorse at his own shameful manipulation of his family for his own materialistic ends. Never mind that. He was his mother’s son.
He looked into his father’s eyes and said, ‘It all comes down to keeping promises, doesn’t it?’
His eyes burnt with an anger so intense that KD, for a moment, was forced to look away to hide the momentary reflection of guilt.
* * *
Maya was restless. With every passing moment that Krish was ensconced in KD’s den, she couldn’t help but worry what was going on inside. Maybe KD had seen through their marriage. Maybe right now he was telling Krish to get rid of her! As the thoughts swirled round her head, her hands felt cold and clammy and beads of perspiration dotted her forehead.
‘Are you okay, Maya?’ Natasha asked, looking at her with concern.
‘Just a bit tired. It’s been a long day.’
Natasha offered to get her some food from the buffet tables that were overloaded with an array of appetising dishes. But the thought of food made her feel queasy. ‘No, thanks. I’m not very hungry.’
Nonetheless, Natasha fetched her a glass of pineapple juice. As Maya gratefully took a long sip, she said, ‘Thanks. I needed this.’
‘Nah—’ she winked mischievously ‘—I’m just looking out for myself. Don’t want the new bride to be fainting all over me!’
Maya laughed. ‘That wouldn’t do at all. So what’s with the “Wild Natasha” nickname?’
‘Uh-huh. Not so fast!’ She grinned back. ‘First you tell me about your real identity.’
Seeing Maya’s stunned expression, Natasha said, ‘You did have an identity before you became Mrs Krish Dev, right?’
Maya laughed, partly at herself for reading too much into Natasha’s innocent question. But, before she could say anything, Natasha stopped her. ‘Wait…wait. Let me guess. Um, I’d say you’re a creative type. An artist, perhaps? Or maybe you’re into fashion? No…you’re a dancer.’
Maya nodded, impressed. ‘Not bad. You’re quite good, you know. Well, I’m a landscape designer by profession but my passion is dancing.’
Natasha did a victorious fist-pump. ‘Yes!’
Soon Maya and Natasha were chatting away like old friends. Maya told her about her passion for the Latin dances and how she was a self-taught dancer, while Natasha regaled her with stories about her childhood escapades with Krish. ‘Normally I would be the brain behind these sorties. But on the rare occasion that we were caught out, Krish would be prompt to take the blame and be the all-protective brother,’ she sighed. ‘Krish is like that. And that’s what makes him so special. But why am I telling you all this? You already know it!’
Maya laughed. ‘Trust me, he’s never told me about this part of his life.’
‘I can believe that. And I’m sure if he found out I told you, he would scowl and say, “Nats, you talk too much!”’
And suddenly Krish was behind them. ‘Nats, you do talk too much!’
Throwing a mock punch at Krish, Natasha countered, ‘See, didn’t I tell you?’
But the amusement was gone from Krish’s eyes. Instead, they had a distant, faraway look in them. ‘Maya, we should go now. Nats, we’ll catch up soon.’
Maya hugged her new friend. ‘Thanks, Wild Natasha. We must get together.’
‘You bet,’ Natasha shot back and kissed her on both cheeks. ‘Have a happy life, you two.’
The short walk back to Krish’s cottage was far from ‘happy’. Krish’s mood was as dark as the night outside. The glow of the stars too had dimmed as if the heat had sapped the energy out of them. The heatwave conditions had lasted much longer than usual for this time of year and even the large acreage of greenery couldn’t absorb the sting of the heat. To make matters worse, she had to deal with her own body temperature, which shot up a couple of notches every time Krish was anywhere near her. Applying the brakes to her crazed thoughts, she sought refuge in words.
‘That didn’t go so badly, after all, did it? Seems like our dress rehearsal was well worth it.’
‘Yeah, it went well,’ Krish replied tersely.
‘For a moment, though, with Monica, it was kind of touch and go.’
Krish’s brooding silence was getting to her. Maybe she was wrong to assume that they had pulled off their fake marriage convincingly. After all, he hadn’t said a word about what had happened between him and KD. Just thinking about it made her insides knot up painfully. ‘So, how did it go with your father? You think he’s bought into our story?’
‘Your little act out there may have convinced Monica. But don’t ever underestimate KD,’ he warned in a savage voice.
Fear gripped her heart as his tension radiated towards her in waves. She gulped hard, her throat dry as sand. ‘You think he…’
Krish’s eyes were dark and unfathomable. ‘He’s willing to go along with our story as long as I meet his demands.’
The way he was doling out the information in dribs and drabs made Maya even more tense. ‘What kind of demands?’
‘Nothing that you ought to worry your pretty head about,’ he drawled, his fingers tugging a loose strand of her hair and tucking it behind her ear.
The action left a blazing trail of fire as she burned to his touch. She bristled at his glib words and jerked away. ‘Yeah, right. At least I know when to keep my head and not lose it over Monica’s insinuations!’
Krish raised an eyebrow. ‘What would I do without you, my sweet Maya?’ Giving her a cynical salute, he strolled into the cottage.
He was the most infuriating person she had ever set eyes on. Maya fumed at his supercilious attitude. Doling out information on a need to know basis. And why not? a little voice asked. Surely she didn’t expect him to applaud her for her performance? It was best not to worry about KD’s demands. Krish could take care of them and, if he couldn’t, it wasn’t really her problem, was it?
She had enough of her own to worry about—the primary one: finding a way to get into KD’s office.
Was it her imagination or was that a distant clap of thunder? How she longed for the monsoon showers of her home town that turned the river into a burbling, bubbling water body. How she yearned for the cleansing, invigorating feel of swimming in the fast-moving river. She had spotted a swimming pool and she decided to do a few laps—if only to get rid of the knot of tension at the back of her neck.
As soon as she reached her room, Maya changed into her one-piece swimsuit, threw on a wraparound skirt, collected a towel and headed for the pool. Lights resembling Diwali lamps in earthen pots threw the gardens surrounding the pool into soft focus. To one corner of the pool, Maya discovered a beautiful arbour with multicoloured flowers and creepers. She stepped inside to find a small stone idol of Krishna. It hadn’t been tended to in a while, but she realised that, at some point, someone must have found solace in this quiet little green hideout. She sat down for a while; the serenity of the place calmed her instantly. She planned to come over in the morning to check out the shrubbery. But, for now, the pool looked too inviting with its clear blue water and greenery all around. Dropping her skirt, she walked towards the pool, the smooth stone tiles still warm from being baked in the sun.
* * *
Krish wrestled with his emotions even as he tried to push away the whole episode of the letter from his mind.
He longed to throw it all in KD’s face and walk out. But he knew he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t betray his mother’s memory. It would mean putting his own dreams on hold. He was sure KD had something big up his sleeve. Probably a mega deal which he didn’t trust his own guys to handle. And that was the reason for this great rush to rope him in as heir to the business. Krish’s credentials as a top-notch management consultant would definitely work to KD’s advantage, especially if he was beating other rivals to get a lucrative contract or finalising a multi-billion dollar deal. From Krish’s point of view, it would mean reworking his own schedule. Damn it! Just when he had reached the point where he was looking forward to gearing up on his own project.
He needed to work the frustration out of his system. He changed into a pair of swimming trunks, picked up a towel and strode out of the house towards the pool, whistling for Baloo…The Irish Setter was at his heels in no time, jumping with joy at the prospect of diving into the pool. Baloo’s antics brought a reluctant smile to his lips as he saw him loping away towards the pool.
Suddenly, he heard a shriek. Was that Maya? His heart thumped. Krish raced down the track towards the pool and arrived in time to see Baloo greet Maya with an enthusiastic jump. ‘Baloo, no!’ he shouted. But Maya missed her footing while trying to save herself from the impact of the jumping dog and fell awkwardly into the pool. Krish sprinted the last few metres and dived in, hoping fervently she hadn’t hit her head against the side of the pool. But, as he scanned underwater, she was nowhere…He could only see Baloo swimming away. Then he heard her behind him and he swung around. He swam towards her and caught her by her waist, pulling her towards him and surfacing for air. He turned her around; she tried to pull away from him. But Krish’s arms were firmly around her. He was standing on firm ground, while her feet were some distance from the floor of the pool.
‘Are you okay?’ His eyes scanned her face—worry made his eyes turn a shade darker.
She just nodded. ‘I’m fine…Baloo just came out of nowhere and I lost my footing.’
He knew he should let her go. But there was no way he could ignore the heat from her body, hitting him in waves, making it impossible to let go of her. His eyes were alight with passion, drawn to a droplet of water that ran down her face only to hang tantalisingly from her luscious lips. His tongue caught it, tasted the saltiness of her before flicking ever so softly on her lips. He heard her breath catch. He pulled her closer to him, making her aware of his hard, taut body. Her eyes closed of their own volition, an invitation in the way her soft curves moulded against his lean body in the cool water, her fingers clinging to his shoulders. He traced his tongue over her beautiful features, licking the water off her eyelids, earlobes and cheeks, leaving a trail of fire in its wake, before finding her lips again. This time his lips crushed hers and his tongue found the deep recesses of her mouth.
Maya felt heat rise up from the core of her being as his tongue evoked sensations that made her insides go all warm and wet. She kissed him back, her tongue locking with his, driving her into a zone where nothing mattered except the tingling sensations that were imploding inside her.
His hand brushed against her voluptuous breasts. Moving the strap of her swimsuit down her shoulder, he dipped his head below the water, cupping her breast in his hand, feeling its soft rounded fullness. His tongue tasted the hollow of her neck, licked the smooth curve of her breast before curling around its hard peak.
Maya was totally lost—the sensation of fire and water sending her nerves tingling with pleasure that she hadn’t thought possible. Her spine arced back as his lips delicately pulled the hard nub into his mouth, teasing, kissing and nipping it, leaving her hot and breathless. She moaned as his lips found hers, and he kissed her with a ferocity that threatened to make her come undone. As she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him back, she heard him growl into her ears, ‘Oh God, Maya! You’re driving me insane!’ For a moment, she opened her eyes.
He looked into her glazed, melting chocolate, passion-filled eyes. Then they both heard it. Baloo was barking his head off at them. With a jolt, Maya pushed herself away from Krish, swimming away to the far end of the pool. ‘Maya!’ Krish called out.
But, without a word, she got out of the pool and hurried down the track towards the cottage.
‘Damn you, Baloo!’ Krish cursed as Baloo dropped a ball into the water. ‘Really, you’ve got the worst timing ever.’ He threw the ball to the far end of the pool with all his pent-up emotion. Baloo—unrepentant and grinning, wide-eyed and eager—dived in to fetch it as Krish swam several laps flat out, trying to work off the effects of the sizzling-hot encounter with his bride.
CHAPTER SIX
MAYA REACHED HER room and slammed the door shut. As an extra precaution, she locked it. Not that she needed to. Krish wasn’t about to chase her and break the door down to get to her. It was she who had opened the door wide open between them. Made him an invitation so tempting that no man could refuse. He was all fire and his passion had found an echoing spark deep within her. She couldn’t believe how close she had come to giving in to her desire.
She threw the windows wide open. The first raindrops of the season were finally coming down, accompanied in a glorious blaze of lightning and rolls of thunder. As the cooling raindrops descended, the hot, parched earth sizzled. But there was no respite for the emotions raging inside her. She spied Krish walking towards the house, Baloo at his heels. She quickly switched off the lights, closed the windows and turned on the air-conditioning full blast.
She had barely seen his silhouette but her mind filled in the contours of his toned body in graphic detail. The rise of his chest as she had revelled in its hardness, the searing intensity of his passion-filled eyes, his sensuous lips that scorched a trail of fiery kisses all over her body, his muscular thighs that had supported her with such ease. Her cheeks flushed hot as she recalled how hard he’d been against her. ‘You’re driving me insane!’ he had whispered. Truth be told, she herself had been beyond the point of sanity. She’d wanted him to go all the way, there and then. How could she have been so brazen, so out of control? And—oh God!—how was she going to face him tomorrow, when she had come so close to breaching her own no-sex clause in their contract?
As she stood under the shower, the scalding hot water filling up the stall with steam, she could feel Krish on every pore of her body. Unlike her, he was no novice when it came to sex. For him, it was just a game that would inevitably lead to its logical conclusion—sexual pleasure. For her, intimacy was something to be share
d with only the person she would first fall in love with. Sex without love was a complete turn-off. The only time she’d even come close to giving it a shot was when her defences had been worn down by Vicky, a cute guy who’d been a regular at the pub that she’d worked in. Every other evening Vicky would ask her out for a date and one day she’d agreed, mostly out of a sense of guilt for refusing him so often. It had been a pleasant enough date—Vicky had a great sense of humour and had kept her in splits with his jokes about his friends and their dating disasters. After a couple of dates, he’d kissed her. But it had left her cold. Worse, it had made her feel like a fraud, for trying to pretend a sexual interest that simply wasn’t there.
Wiping the mirror with her towel, she looked at herself with new eyes. Krish had made her feel something that was totally out of her range of experience. The passions that fired her up were that of a woman in lust. Just thinking of him made her skin tingle and her insides thrum with exciting new sensations. Rubbing her head vigorously, she stormed out of the bathroom. This would simply not do—her situation was complicated enough and adding sex to the mix was trouble that she did not need. If she wasn’t careful, she would soon be falling head over heels in love with the Charming Devil!
* * *
Krish had never felt so out of control. Sure, it wasn’t as if this were the first time that lust had raged through his loins. But he had never felt so overwhelmed by it. It was as if an unseen storm had emerged out of nowhere and ripped through his insides. Just the thought of Maya in the pool, her soft curves clinging to his body and her eyes drowning in passion made him burn up with desire. It took all of his tattered control to stop himself from bursting into her room and making crazy, passionate love to the woman who had stirred in him a ravaging need. Thunderclaps reverberated through the house, mocking his raging emotions.
The Indian Tycoon's Marriage Deal Page 7