Flaming Sun Collection 3: Perfect Twins Find Anya (Box Set with 3 novellas)

by Sundari Venkatraman

  “You have such awesome books in your library, Dev. I’ve been catching up on a lot of reading. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all,” he shrugged. “Books are meant to be read. I should have told you about the library. It’s I who am sorry that I...”

  She shook her head, her hair bouncing against her flushed cheeks. “No worries there. Daadima showed me the room.” She had actually squealed in pleasure when Meena escorted her to the library that was on the opposite side to Anya’s bedroom on the first floor. Half a dozen cosy single sofas were scattered around the room while three walls were taken up by wooden shelves from floor to ceiling, crammed with books. Small labels were fixed above the shelves to let the reader know the subjects the books dealt with. While most of the books were fiction, there were some serious tomes out there too. The only free wall was a bay of floor length windows that opened into the wraparound veranda, bringing a lot of bright sunlight and a view of the lush hills.

  Dev was glad to see some colour on her cheeks as he nodded. “So that’s how you came up with the names of planets for those poor little kitties,” he winked.

  “Dev.” She punched him on his arm. “Do you want me to change them?” she asked, looking up into his grey eyes. It was the first time she noticed how long his eyelashes were, appearing almost feminine.

  “Of course not. I don’t think they mind,” he grinned, turning to stroke a gentle finger down the back of Mars. Kitty opened her eyes. Assured it was Dev who was touching her baby, she shut her eyes again.

  Anya sighed softly, taking in the serene atmosphere of Kitty and her small family. Ginger had jumped on to the loft and settled beside them. Even the dogs didn’t bark too loudly in the area, seemingly attuned to the sleeping babies. How adorable!

  “I so love it here Dev. Thank you so much for inviting me. It’s just that...”

  “You’ve already thanked me a million times Anya. And what’s bothering you now?” he asked, a dark brow up in query as he studied her lovely face.

  “Can I do some kind of work? I can’t recall what I am trained for, even with my MBA degree and all that.” She looked up at him with a bitter half smile on her face. “But I’m sure I can pull my weight around your farm, helping with the planting or harvesting or whatever your workers do.”

  Dev got up from his crouching position, pulling her up along with him, stroking a rough finger down her silky cheek. “I know you’re anxious to help but don’t forget that you are recuperating from a terrible accident. Why don’t you give your body the time to heal? You have an appointment with Dr. Adnani in three days. Let’s go meet him before I take you up on your offer.” While he spoke softly, his tone was firm, brooking no argument.

  “But Dev, I feel so useless, living the life of a lotus eater. I...” His finger on her cheek was so distracting, making it difficult for Anya to concentrate on what she was saying.

  “Would you like to go around the farm with me tomorrow? I can show you how it all works. Maybe like a preliminary round so that you can find out if you would really like to work on a farm. What say?”

  Anya looked into his eyes, excitement beating a soft tattoo in her heart. She so wanted to know more about Dev and his farm. “That’d be lovely Dev. Are you sure I won’t get in your way?”

  “I’m sure you will,” said Dev, his eyes twinkling with mirth and his tongue tucked firmly in cheek, “but I don’t mind.”

  “Dev.” Anya gave him a mock glare, too pleased to mind his teasing. “It’s a date then. When do you want to leave?”

  “Immediately after breakfast? We’ll get back home for lunch so that you don’t get too tired.”

  “I’m sure I won’t,” said Anya, excited at the prospect of going around the farm. She wanted to know about the farm was one thing. The other reason was that she craved to spend more time with Dev.

  Anya blanched, moving her gaze to the ground. Now where the hell had that thought sprung from?!

  14

  Renu Gurnani walked into the Wadhwa home as if she owned the place. It was barely nine in the morning and she had wanted to catch Dev before he took off to the farm. But he didn’t seem to be around. She would have known as the whole area vibrated with his energy whenever he was there. Noticing his grandmother sitting on the swing at the other end, Renu walked across the sunlit courtyard to meet her.

  “Hello Meena Daadi, kaisi ho?”

  “Aao Renu,” smiled Meena, at their closest neighbour’s daughter. “I’m fine. And how are you? Did you enjoy your trip to Europe?” The old lady was aware of the young woman’s interest in her grandson and also knew that Dev had never eyed Renu as a prospective life partner.

  “It wasn’t bad, Daadi. Where’s Dev?”

  Meena looked at Renu in surprise. She had been to Europe with her family and had found the experience ‘not bad’. Cynical! But then, the girl had been born with a silver spoon and never appreciated how lucky she was. Meena realised that she was being judgemental, but then, that’s how she was. “Dev’s gone to work,” she replied.

  “Already?” Renu frowned. “Isn’t it too early?”

  Meena smiled. “You know how Dev is, living his life exactly the way he wants.” And Meena was absolutely proud of her grandson. “Actually, we have a guest staying with us. He’s taken Anya to show her around.” She gave her neighbour a sly look from the corner of her eyes to check her reaction to the news.

  That sure stopped Renu in her tracks. “What? You have a guest? Who’s Anya?” Renu was territorial and believed that Dev was her property. It never occurred to her that he might have a say in that. She thought he belonged to her and that was it. Well, Dev had never shown an interest in any woman before. Who was this new guest? Was she young or old? Beautiful or ugly? Renu was dying of curiosity.

  “Anya Chhabria is from Mumbai. She’s had an accident and is recuperating here at our home.”

  “Do you know when they will be back?” asked Renu, with a glint in her eyes.

  “I’m not sure, though they will get back before lunch,” said Meena, a mischievous look in her eyes. She couldn’t wait to see the real life drama that was sure to unfold.

  Renu got up to leave. “I’m telling Seema to set one extra place for lunch, Daadi. I’ll be back.”

  Meena nodded, as Renu went in search of the cook.

  Renu was fuming when she stepped out of the house after giving her instructions to Seema. Her body had gone rigid when she heard that the Wadhwas had a lady guest, someone who was staying for long. Recuperating from an accident indeed! Meena Daadi hadn’t mentioned if the guest was a relative or a friend. Renu concluded that she was neither. How did Dev bring someone home just like that? What if the woman was after Dev’s fortune? Renu was sure of it. The man may be handsome and a smart farmer-entrepreneur, but he was totally dumb when it came to judging women. Take herself for instance. She’d been chasing him since the past five years, from the time Dev and his grandmother had purchased the neighbouring farm and settled down there. But he was completely unaware of her interest. It hadn’t mattered till now. But Anya’s advent into his life had put Renu on ‘red alert’ mode. It was high time she took charge of his life. Renu got into her jeep and roared away, too angry with Dev and his guest.

  Anya felt the warmth the moment she entered the poly house. Dev had driven her in the Innova Crysta for about ten minutes before they reached the first structure. It looked like a huge tent. He explained that the flowering plants were grown within the structure to help maintain the correct temperature and humidity for best results.

  She pulled off the V-necked, full-sleeved sweater she was wearing over a t-shirt to combat the November cold in Karjat. Pushing her hair out of her eyes, she gasped when she noticed the row upon row of plants that grew gerbera flowers. Anya didn’t wait for Dev as she walked in the space between the rows looking at the luxuriant blooms on the healthy green plants. The flowers were just opening up and were in shades of brilliant pink, red, orange, yellow and white, the colo
urs separated row wise. “They all look so gorgeous, Dev,” she called out to the man who was walking right behind her, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. “What do you do with so many flowers? Do you export them?” she asked, stopping to turn and look at him.

  He nodded, a broad smile on his face. “Yeah, I export some of them while also selling some locally.”

  “I was under the impression that we imported exotic flowers into India. This is simply amazing.”

  He grinned. “I wonder where you got that piece of knowledge from. But you’re right. We used to import some of these flowers some years ago, until we cultivated the art of growing them right here, on our soil.”

  “Though it all looks so beautiful, it must be a lot of work, right?”

  He shrugged, drawing her eyes to his wide shoulders, the muscles rippling through his cotton shirt. “Of course it’s a lot of work. But we have enough people working here, so no one is overworked. And I think my employees are happy to work at Wadhwa Farm.”

  Anya nodded. That was something she had been noticing over and over again. Dev treated them all like one big family, taking care of all their requirements. She walked down the pathways, stopping to check the especially large blooms when she caught sight of a troop of women walking into the poly house.

  “They have come to pluck the flowers. They will pick them colour-wise and place them in buckets of water immediately after plucking.” Anya nodded, listening to him keenly. “And then they take the buckets of gerbera to the cool house to grade them as per their size. We can go to see the roses and carnations before going to the cool house to see how it operates. What say?” asked Dev.

  “How many types of flowers do you grow?” asked Anya in awe.

  “Six, along with the lilies, anthuriums and orchids with a few types of baby’s breath thrown in. And then there’s the vegetable patch where we grow all our needs, for the house as well as the workers and their families.”

  “I’m impressed,” said Anya, untying her sweater from around her neck, to wear it on their way out.

  While the carnations and lilies were awesome, it was the roses that Anya fell in love with. She realised that she could spend hours there, simply staring at them. Nets were placed around individual buds, protecting their shape. “It must be difficult to keep out the pests, nah?” she asked, quirking a shapely eyebrow at him.

  “We have our methods. The advantage is more when they are in a closed environment as that keeps away most of the insects.” Dev cut the long stem of a dark red rose, removing the thorns and the net before presenting it to her. “This is for you. Can you believe that this variety is called Top Secret in North India?”

  “Thank you Dev,” said Anya, caressing the silky velvet top of the flower that was still not fully open with a dainty finger. She pressed her nose to it delicately, inhaling its perfume. “Are you saying it has another name in the South?” she asked, her smile both sensual as well as innocent as she looked up into his eyes that reminded her of the dark clouds that seemed ever prevalent around the Sahyadri mountains close to his home.

  Dev felt envious of the flower as Anya played with it. He looked up at her, trying to recall her question. Remembering it with an effort, he replied, “They call it the Taj Mahal there.”

  “Are you saying the roses have different names to them?” She suddenly felt tired and overwhelmed from their morning at the farm. Though they had done most of the travelling around in the station wagon, there had been so much to see.

  Seeing her drooping features, Dev took her elbow in his hand. “Yeah, they do. But all that for another day. Let’s get you home now.”

  “But Dev, we haven’t seen your orchids and anthuriums. And oh yeah, the vegetable patch, I so want to see it,” she protested.

  “They aren’t going anywhere. We can see them all tomorrow,” he said, escorting her to the car.

  “Dev.” She wanted to stamp her foot in frustration, but couldn’t find the stamina.

  He stopped, looking down at her. “Anya...” He so wanted to fold her into his arms and transfer his energy into her. She looked frail just now. Had they overdid the morning sightseeing? Anya had even stopped to ask the labourers a lot of questions. And just now she looked as if she might fall down if he let go of her arm. Dev lifted her up in his arms to walk the few more steps to his car, not listening to her weak protests. He opened the passenger door and placed her on the seat, buckling the seatbelt around her. Walking around to the driver’s side, he rode the car through a different route on their way back home.

  “What’s that?” asked Anya, sighting a large body of water.

  “It’s an artificial lake that I had had built, especially for the farm.”

  “Oh yeah, you must need lots of water to keep the plants so lush and green,” she nodded. “Thanks for calling a halt when you did. I’m feeling beat.” Anya gave him an impish smile.

  “A gentleman never says, ‘I told you so’,” he grinned, his teeth flashing brightly in the noon sunlight.

  “Are you a gentleman?” she asked cheekily.

  “That’s for you to say.”

  She studied him from half-closed eyes, leaning against the door, before nodding slowly. “You definitely are.”

  She closed her eyes tiredly, not noticing the ruddy colour that suffused his manly cheeks.

  15

  Anya protested feebly when Dev insisted on carrying her up to her bedroom. “Please Dev...”

  “Please what?” he whispered, as he walked up the staircase, holding her in his arms as delicately as if he was holding a bunch of flowers.

  Dev’s breath stirred the tendrils of hair that lay on Anya’s cheek, making her aware of the strong, muscular arms that held her with absolute ease. He wasn’t even a tad breathless after walking with her in his arms all the way from where he had parked the car at the portico. She opened her eyes a slit to study the sharp features that had become very dear to her in the couple of weeks that she had known him. His broad forehead bespoke an intelligence that she couldn’t help but notice at every turn. Dark grey eyes looked at her from under bushy eyebrows, their expression unfathomable. He had chiselled cheeks that met in a firm, square chin, a prominent, aquiline nose and sensual lips to die for.

  Dev treated her with so much love and care. Somehow, Anya was sure that no one had given her so much of themselves in all these years. Yeah, she could feel that despite her memory loss. That she couldn’t have managed without his help was for sure. A deep sigh broke free from her at the magnanimity of her situation. While the whole world appeared to be full of unknown faces to the amnesia patient, Dev was the one who grounded her.

  She smiled at him now, raising a hand to touch his rough cheek. He already sported a five o’clock shadow, despite having shaved that morning before they left for their trip around the farm. “You’re spoiling me,” she declared.

  “Looks like you could do with some spoiling,” he smiled, touched by the feather light caress on his cheek. Would her lips still taste as fresh, like the other time he had kissed her? Dev couldn’t help wondering as he laid her down on the bed and turned to take the tray from the maid who carried two tall glasses of chilled lemonade, placing it on a side table.

  “I thought you might like to have some chilled lemon juice,” he said, plumping the pillows behind Anya to help her sit comfortably.

  Anya shook her head at him, her coffee brown gaze clinging to his gentle grey eyes. “There you go again, spoiling me rotten.”

  “Guilty as charged,” he grinned, taking a glass and handing it to her. “Cheers!” he said, sipping from his own. If he could do it, he would wrap her in cotton wool and bury her deep within his heart.

  She also drank from her glass before saying, “Why the hell do I feel so weak, Dev? I really hope I’m not one of those people who sit back on their butt through the day, twiddling their thumbs.” She grimaced at the picture she painted of herself.

  Dev threw back his head and laughed, startling her in
to staring at him. She ogled at the length of his strong throat, fighting the sudden, inexplicable urge to bury her face in it. Was it her imagination or did he appear handsomer than ever today?

  “Farhan tells me that you passed your MBA in marketing with flying colours. I don’t think that would’ve been possible if you were the type to sit on your butt, twiddling your thumbs,” he teased.

  “Tch,” said Anya, her shoulders hunched, “What’s the use anyway?”

  Dev took the empty glass from her and placed it on the tray beside his, before lifting her chin with a thumb and forefinger. “Don’t tell me you’re going to give up now, my little warrior?” He raised an eyebrow that touched the silky hair that had fallen on his forehead.

  “Just now I don’t feel anything like a warrior,” she grumbled, grimacing. She felt frustrated by the weakness that assailed her body. Shouldn’t she be fine after all this time?

  “Anya, look at me,” commanded Dev in a gentle but firm voice. When she did, he continued, “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Give it time and your body will recover, for sure.”

  “How much more? It’s been all of two weeks since the accident.”

  Dev couldn’t stop himself from running his fingers through her tousled hair. “It’s a matter of perception. According to Dr. Adnani, you have come a very long way in such a short time.”

  “Did you speak to him?” she asked, her eyes closing of their own volition as he continued to caress her head, his fingers lightly massaging her scalp.

  “Every day,” he said in a whisper, noticing that she was almost asleep.

  “What?!” Anya opened her eyes, suddenly alert. “You’ve been in touch with the doctor every day?” She hadn’t known.

  Dev nodded. “He was insistent that I give him a daily report on your progress.”

  Where did Dev find the time to do all this? He spent so much time with her, caring for her personally, not relegating anything to the umpteen servants that teemed around the house and farm. Then there was his 25-acre farm and the business surrounding it. Anya looked up at him, her heart thudding loudly. He appeared like a powerhouse of energy, lighting up everything and everyone who came in his path. What had she ever done to deserve him in her life? And what would happen to her when she recovered her strength fully? She had no idea of what job she used to do before her accident. She couldn’t recall any kind of training, nor her MBA course. What would she do? She couldn’t depend on Dev forever.