No Escape from Love

by Reet Singh

  His behavior was completely unexpected. He had never tried it with Govind - which made it weird because Aalok was Ritvik's friend, while Govind had been suspect and quite unwelcome.

  Chewing her lower lip, Mohini watched as the men squared off against each other - or at least, one of them did, while the other lounged a few feet away in sublime indifference.

  She didn’t like this one bit. Throwing the paper napkins down on the table, she set out to diffuse the strange tension in the room.

  'What's biting you, Ritvik?' She could have been more polite, especially when she was trying to be an arbiter of peace, but his possessive attitude rankled. 'It was nothing. He was just ...'

  Ritvik held out a hand, brusquely silencing her. ‘Stay out of it, Moni.' His voice sounded unnaturally strained. 'I'm beginning to see a pattern here. It's no surprise to me what happened in Delhi. You really can't keep your hands off the women, can you?'

  Aalok straightened so abruptly, Mohini gasped. If the men were to come to blows, Aalok had the definite advantage. He was miles taller, and had more solid muscle on him per inch of that spectacular body. He could pound Ritvik to a pulp before her very eyes and she'd be helpless to intervene.

  Her gaze flew about the room looking for a weapon - anything to threaten the men with - to subdue their raging testosterone into cowering submission. It was a futile search. Even if she could lift the heavy copper kettle high enough, she had no idea whose head to bash in. Whose side should she take?

  What was Ritvik so mad about? What had Aalok done in Delhi?

  Fortunately, Aalok didn't raise his fists - instead, he balled them by his side. Keeping his voice low and his tone reasonable, he advanced only about a foot. 'You’re being absurd! You're doing the same thing that Tina did yesterday - jumping to conclusions.'

  Ritvik stiffened. 'How do you know anything about that? How could you possibly know?' His eyes blazed.

  Mohini's heart sank. No!

  Ritvik was absolutely deranged with fury. It was the wrong time to tell him that Tina was here. But her silent scream went unheard. Aalok shrugged, and though his posture was still rigid, his words were spoken gently. 'She's here. In the East annexe. She...'

  Ritvik uttered a foul word and pivoted towards Mohini. When she nodded meekly, he exploded and it was as ugly as Mohini had anticipated. 'Bloody hell!' The veins at his temple bulged and his fists clenched.

  She watched in morbid fascination as her brother, breathing rapidly, appeared to cogitate for the next few seconds. Finally, and it frightened her to bits, the light in his eyes died and he turned a black, brooding gaze back towards Aalok.

  Ritvik spoke through clenched teeth and his tone was flat. 'You put her up to this, didn't you? You brought her here.' He moved closer to where Aalok stood. 'And now she's in the East annexe. Isn't that where you're also putting up? How convenient. You didn't expect me to drop in, I take it?'

  Mohini, shocked at the injustice of her brother's accusations, and appalled at his transformation into a raving, irrational man, rushed to his side but she was too late. Taking everyone by surprise, he lashed out, landing a right hook on the unsuspecting chin of the man who had once been his friend.

  'Ritvik!' Mohini shrieked, but he ignored her. Wincing, he nursed his bruised fist in the palm of the other hand, then turned on his heel and slammed out of the kitchen.

  'Oh my god, Aalok!' Mohini stumbled up to him and pulled his hand away from his face. He was still upright, but his lip was swollen and bloody. He seemed calm enough but Mohini's heart sank at the blood. It seeped through a cut that wasn't visible to her panicked eyes.

  'Here,' she said, passing him a pristine, white tea towel. She blanched when it came back stained. 'What do we do now? Should I get a doctor? There's a vet in the village, and he...'

  Aalok reapplied the towel and rolled his eyes at her. 'We stay sane,' he mumbled through the folds. 'That's what we do. It's just a bruise.'

  'That it's not,' Mohini muttered, but she got his drift. Taking a good, long breath, she racked her brains for inspiration. Thankfully, something that she had studied some years ago during her stint in the National Cadet Corps came back to her.

  RICE.

  Oh, thank goodness for that! Now she'd have something to do.

  RICE. Now if only she could remember what the mnemonic stood for.

  R was definitely for rest. She tried urging him towards a dining chair, but he was hunched over the sink and not easy to dislodge. At least the bleeding had reduced to a bare trickle.

  Well, okay. No problem. She still had three letters of the acronym to work with. E was for elevate, but he was already upright, so that was done. C for compress, but what if he had a loose tooth? Best avoid. That left I - for ice.

  Mohini rushed to the freezer, yanked out an ice tray, and hurried back to Aalok.

  'Here,' she offered, holding out a cube.

  'Quite the Florence Nightingale, aren't you?' he said, but his uneven smile told her he wasn't being sarcastic. It wasn't much of a smile, seeing as how his lower lip was swollen on the left side to the size of a golf ball, but it warmed her heart somewhat.

  Ten

  A half hour and many ice cubes later, Aalok complained of impending starvation. Mohini whisked away the congealed eggs and lukewarm milk, and replaced them with a cold smoothie made from melon and banana. When Aalok made to protest, she reminded him of his split lip and he resigned himself to a meal of icy liquids instead of the hot, succulent paranthas and omelette that he had anticipated.

  Mohini didn’t join him at the table. She bustled about for a bit, fidgeted with this and that, and generally looking miserable enough for Aalok to set his cup down with a thump.

  'Why don't you eat something - try and relax?'

  'I can't.’ She plopped down on a dining chair and groaned. 'It's all my fault! If I hadn't....' She stopped, impaled him with a piercing glare, and corrected herself... 'If we hadn't been getting all cosy-schmosy...'

  'Stop!' Aalok interrupted. 'Stop beating yourself up.'

  He threw his napkin down on the table and got up, pushing the chair back rather noisily. 'You keep doing that. How is any of this your fault? Or mine? If he doesn’t like me touching his sister, that’s his outlook, not mine. Don't try to pin his deplorable behavior on me.'

  Mohini looked a little startled at his outburst, so he took a deep breath, set the chair straight and sat back down. ‘I’m sorry.’

  He waited quietly, but she continued to look haunted.

  Tapping on the table to get her attention, he asked softly, ‘What’s bugging you?’

  ‘He's lost his mind. He hit you, didn't he? And now he's been gone so long, I have no idea...'

  'He's not going to kill her, if that's what you imagine. Do you want me to go check on them?'

  'Would you?' she asked, her tone infused with hope.

  'I don't want to.'

  'I don't either.'

  She sighed, then reached out to pat his hand where it rested, fisted, on the edge of the table. 'It's all right.'

  She quickly removed her hand, bunched up her fingers and tucked them out of sight. 'I'm sure they'll work it out. It's just that, he was shattered to start with, and it didn't help for him to find us ... um ... I mean, as far as he's concerned, we barely ...' She shrugged and a flush crept up her neck.

  Mohini toyed with her hair, avoiding his gaze, and Aalok grinned. He took pity on her and gave up the impulse to tease her about things she didn’t want to put into words. She was such a prude, he thought, recalling her choice of nightwear. Except when she was in his bed. Despite his broken lip, his libido surged.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ he suggested, quite sure that it was wiser to avoid confined spaces when he was with her. ‘Show me your village.’

  'I’ll show you something even better,' Mohini said, and her eyes brightened. She held out her hand to him, but withdrew it before he could take it, and tucked it into her side. 'Are you sure you're up for it?'

&n
bsp; Her gaze probed the bruised lip, but he rose and nodded at her. 'I’m fine.'

  She'd been quite a brick, nursing him when her thoughts were clearly with her brother. The brother was an idiot but Aalok could understand his standpoint. Hell, he could almost picture himself beating some man to a pulp if he caught him in a cinch with one of his sisters. Talk about cave men, he'd probably outdo the worst of them.

  §§§

  'This is where I work,' Mohini said, throwing open the doors of a building that looked exactly like the East annexe from the outside, but was completely different once you stepped in.

  The big man followed her in and she watched him as he looked about the place. The walls had been knocked down so that it was large and roomy, and fabulously lit by natural light. She saw him squint at the vast skylights, then at the half-finished, brightly colored, hand-woven rugs and patchwork quilts that lay about in gay abandon at every work station.

  The work stations were unconventional - cane mats instead of desks, placed at varying intervals to accommodate all her working ladies. They were designer mats, woven into intricate patterns that she had sketched herself.

  He whistled through his teeth and it pleased her that he could see how special the space was. Moving about the room, he carefully picked his way around the merchandise. He stopped to lift the occasional piece and the interest with which he rubbed his fingers over the texture, or held it up to the light to examine the contrasting colors, warmed her heart.

  He was a photographer, or some such, wasn't he? He understood beauty, and color, and hue. It was no surprise to her when he turned and said, 'I wish I had my camera. This is ...' he shook his head. 'I don't know what to say. This place is unbelievable - like a busy little dream factory.'

  She shrugged, but her heart swelled with motherly pride.

  'Is this where all those women hang out? The ones I met yesterday?'

  Mohini nodded.

  'So where are they today?'

  'Nobody comes to work on Sunday. Not even Bindro - the girl who helps in the kitchen....' She lapsed into silence because Aalok had turned back to continue his exploration.

  He looked so out of place in her exotic world of fabric and thread, this giant of a man with the powerful body, and yet he fit right in, as deliciously eye-catching as the goods he admired. Mohini was entranced by the synergy between man and material.

  It wasn't fair that just looking at him surrounded by all her colorful creations was making her hormones sing. She let her lids droop for a second, trying to halt the indolent warmth that flooded her body.

  When she opened her eyes, he was right next to her. 'Are you all right? You should sit down. You looked peaky just then.'

  ‘I’m fine,’ she lied, and settled down on a charpoy, but then jumped up again. It was Aalok who needed ministering. He was the one who had been injured in an unjust war.

  'I'm sorry,' she said. 'Please. Do sit. How are you holding out?'

  Aalok gently pushed her back down, and then sat next to her.

  'Stay,' he commanded. 'Surely this thing is big enough for the two of us? It won't collapse, will it, with our combined weight?'

  'Of course not,' she scoffed. 'That's teak you're sitting on. And the mesh is top quality hemp.'

  She glared at him only to find him chuckling soundlessly. 'You were kidding, weren't you? That's mean,' and she jabbed him in the ribs with a peeved elbow.

  'Ouch,' he winced. 'You’re vicious – you’ve forgotten that I'm nursing an injury - a very recent one at that.' And he collapsed dramatically, pulling his legs up and curling into the fetal position just a half inch away from her startled spine.

  'I'm so sorry. I forgot.’ She half turned so she could see his face. ‘How's the lip? Is there anything I can do. More ice?'

  He puckered his brow as though deep in thought. 'Why don't we try something that’s even more traditional than ice?'

  'Tell me.' She was determined to help.

  If only he didn’t look so dangerous, lying there close enough to touch. His eyes were hooded and she was fairly certain that he was toying with her.

  'Would you kiss it better?' he asked, and she knew she'd read him right.

  'I don't think that's a good idea,' she said, calm as you please, except that her heart beat an erratic tattoo against her ribcage. 'It only works on little boys aged about four. And only when there's a boo-boo on the finger.'

  'We'll never know unless we try. Miracles happen all the time. If nothing else, it would make my convalescence bearable.'

  'No chance. In any case, I wouldn’t want to risk a re-bleed.' The words came out all breathless and she cleared her throat in annoyance - she didn't want to kiss him, did she?

  'You're a terrible doctor,' Aalok muttered. 'You should be fully invested in helping me to get better, considering it was your brother who bashed me up.'

  'Blackmail, now? That's low, and it's not going to work.'

  'Will this work?' An arm snaked out and curved around her middle, pulling her snugly back against him.

  Mohini squealed and he let go as abruptly as he'd pounced. Disappointment lanced through her and made her wince.

  Was she for real?

  She jumped to her feet - but an awareness, a delicious temptation, followed her to the other end of the room. Irritated with herself, and with him, she rounded on him from the safety of ten-feet away.

  'You're out of your mind. I have a feeling my brother hurt more than just your lip. Is your head throbbing? Do you see double?'

  He chuckled, her biting questions seeming to bounce off him. Hauling himself up, he crossed his legs and sat sadhu-style on the charpoy.

  To Mohini, he looked anything but saintly. Even after having had his face rearranged by her manically possessive brother, he was irrepressible, flirting with her as if she didn’t have a million things on her mind.

  'Calm down. I was just fooling,' he said, and that riled her up all the more.

  His words reminded her of something Ritvik had said minutes before that unexpected right hook - something about Aalok and women - "You really can't keep your hands off the women, can you?"

  Oh god! And here she was, craving the touch of those very hands.

  Mohini felt sick. She would not join the ranks of the women who clamored over this man. She most certainly would not.

  'All right,' she said, running a determined hand over an attractive, though garish, peacock that one of the women had woven into a tapestry. 'All right, then. Stop fooling around and let's talk about serious stuff.'

  Aalok cocked an eyebrow at her and his sultry gaze sharpened. Mohini, taking confidence from the fact that she was in her work area, on familiar territory, cocked one of her own eyebrows right back at him.

  'What happened in Delhi, Aalok?'

  Eleven

  Aalok eyed Mohini as she stood by a traditional loom, and the picture she made - with her flashing eyes and the embarrassed pink of her cheeks - screamed for a camera. Before he could think of fetching one, though, she flung at him the one question that told him his day of reckoning was upon him.

  'What happened in Delhi, Aalok?'

  Aalok sighed. It was his turn in the spotlight. No more prevarication, although there was enough going on in Tejopur that his escapade would seem tame in comparison.

  'Do you really want to know? It’s surreal and you're never going to believe it.’

  ‘I might. Why don’t you let me decide? Don't try to wriggle out of it.' Mohini settled down on a rug across from his charpoy, crossed her arms across her chest, and glared.

  Aalok held up a hand. ‘Remember you asked for this.’

  ‘Oh please! So much drama. Something tells me there was a woman involved.’

  ‘Two actually.’

  ‘I can’t wait to hear about them,’ she said, rolling her eyes. But then she compressed her mouth into a thin line and Aalok sensed that she’d already judged and sentenced him.

  He’d been teasing but she didn’t know that. It would
have been nice if she had given him the benefit of the doubt. Her prim expression told him she hadn’t. Ah well! Might as well get this over with.

  'You know I'm a photo-journalist, right?'

  Mohini shook her head.

  'I am. I do a variety of stuff. I freelance, and outdoors is a particular favorite. Unfortunately, I'm petitioned very often to do portraiture.' He shrugged. 'It's not as much fun, but I do it anyway.'