His Captive Indian Princess

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His Captive Indian Princess Page 8

by Tanu Jain


  Gauri knew that nothing she could do or say would change Vikram’s opinion of her. She was doomed to be misunderstood and maligned. Looking at him with hostility, she said, ‘Believe what you want to, but I have no intention of falling in with your wishes. I don’t wish to be involved in any kind of legal hassle.’

  ‘You always think of yourself. Even with Kaka Maharaj ill, you are only bothered about your inconvenience. You want all the privileges of wealth but don’t want to accept the responsibility it entails,’ Vikram accused.

  Gauri flinched. ‘You are always intent on portraying me in the worst possible light. You twist and turn everything I say to suit your picture of me.’

  ‘Believe me, I don’t have to try very hard. Your actions speak louder than words,’ Vikram countered derisively.

  His self-righteous attitude inflamed Gauri. He was always insinuating that she was a gold-digger.

  ‘Now I know why you employed detectives to trace me! Only because I am Baba’s daughter and heir! You are only bothered about Baba’s wealth and you want to use me to gain control over it,’ she threw at him.

  But as soon as the accusations left her mouth, Gauri knew she was being unjust. Vikram was callous and ruthless but he had always been an honourable man. Honour and decorum was the code he lived by. Even as a child he had hated dishonesty of any kind and had been disapproving of any moral transgression. He’d allowed Madhav Dada to get away with cheating in the games they played and would endure his teasing but he would never cheat himself.

  Vikram was furious. How dare she question his integrity? Honour was the code he lived by. The shame brought on the family name by his forefathers had been burnt into his conscience, and all his life he’d striven to be honest, morally upright and fair, sometimes harshly so. But a dishonest person like her couldn’t be expected to understand this.

  He said icily, ‘If you had read carefully, you would have known that the papers name you as the rightful heir because that is what Kaka Maharaj wanted. I will merely be acting on your behalf to ensure that the property doesn’t pass into Maya’s husband’s control and stays safe for Kaka Maharaj till he recovers! My only aim is to clear up the legal mess he has embroiled me in. I don’t want a penny of your father’s wealth! I have enough wealth of my own. But you, of course, will not understand what I am talking about. Greed and avariciousness run in your blood and because you will go to any length to fulfil your selfish desires you think everyone else is the same!’

  Gauri looked at him in consternation. He was doing it for Baba. And she knew that if the property passed into Maya’a husband’s control he would destroy everything that had been in their family for generations. She read the documents carefully and realised that what he was saying was the truth. She had been named as the rightful heir. But she didn’t want her father’s wealth for herself. She didn’t feel she was entitled to anything, particularly after what her grandmother had revealed just before she’d left, but she could never reveal that secret to Vikram. Dull colour ran up her face as guilt assailed her. But there was no way out. If she didn’t sign, the legal wrangles would continue and she didn’t want her father to suffer more than he had. But she would not accept anything from her father because she wasn’t entitled to it, she vowed, not that Vikram would ever believe her, so she might as well save her breath. After wordlessly signing the documents, she got up and left.

  Vikram put the documents in a drawer and followed her. He had another task to complete.

  Gauri reached the sitting room, which seemed to have been inundated with boxes of various shapes. She stopped and looked around, bemused.

  Vikram sauntered in and opened a box. It contained a pair of jeans. One by one, he opened all the boxes to reveal tunics, Churidar kurtas, saris, jeans and T-shirts. On closer inspection, Gauri found that the boxes bore the names of well known designers—Sapna Mital, Ritu Beri, Rina Dhaka and Ritu Kumar.

  A sense of foreboding assailed her, which intensified when Vikram turned and informed her, ‘These clothes are for you. From now on, stop wearing these irritating white shirts and black trousers and dress suitably.’

  Gauri was thunderstruck. ‘I don’t need any clothes. I have a perfectly adequate wardrobe at my apartment and I am planning to go and fetch my clothes soon.’

  ‘My time is extremely precious and I cannot go traipsing to your flat just to fetch your clothes,’ Vikram said rudely.

  ‘Who is asking you to come along? I can go on my own,’ Gauri replied truculently.

  ‘The well-being of Kaka Maharaj is more important than your wretched clothes. The only thing you need to focus on right now is your father’s recovery,’ Vikram said coldly.

  ‘But I don’t want so many clothes. It’s a sheer waste of money!’ Gauri persisted stubbornly.

  ‘That’s rich, coming from a shopaholic like you. I haven’t forgotten the vast array of clothes you always had. It’s too late to pretend to be a sanctimonious little soul,’ Vikram hurled at her, unimpressed by her claims. He had yet to meet a woman who didn’t drool over clothes and jewellery.

  Gauri looked at him with unseeing eyes. It was true that her wardrobe had always been overflowing with clothes but what he didn’t know was that none of the clothes had been bought especially for her. All her clothes, except for a couple of items, had been hand-me-downs from Maya. Maya had been a shopaholic and she would discard most of her clothes after wearing them a couple of times. Grandmother would ensure that the discarded clothes were worn by Gauri. But Gauri hadn’t cared. She had other pressing concerns at that time. But Vikram wouldn’t know and even if he knew he wouldn’t believe her.

  Vikram looked at Gauri in exasperation. Her lips were stretched tight and her fists were clenched. A shadow had fallen over her face at his accusations. Her wounded expression made him feel like a heel.

  The next moment he scoffed at his softness and said curtly, ‘It’s late and I don’t want to argue with you over useless matters. The clothes are here and, whether you like them or not, you will wear them.’

  ‘We will see!’ Gauri retorted mutinously and turned on her heel to leave.

  ‘I have not finished with you!’ Vikram said and picked up a long box placed on the table. ‘We have to go out. I want you to wear this outfit.’

  Gauri was stupefied. ‘Are you out of your mind? I’m not going anywhere with you and I’m certainly not wearing anything to please you.’

  ‘I am not asking you to wear anything to please me! We are going to an important function and you will be appearing as Kaka Maharaj’s daughter. So you have to dress accordingly. I don’t want to hear any gossip about the family.’

  Gauri turned on Vikram angrily. ‘How dare you presume to make arrangements to go out without consulting me? I will not go!’

  Vikram remained unfazed by Gauri’s angry protest. ‘You will go with me. It is imperative that we present a united front.’

  ‘What is so important about going there?’ Gauri said sceptically.

  ‘It is important because a lot of people, including Maya’s husband, will be there and I want it clearly established that you are your father’s rightful heir,’ he explained grimly.

  Gauri’s heart sank further when she heard Maya’s name. She didn’t want to face Maya again. She couldn’t. But how could she convince Vikram? Maybe appealing to him would work.

  She said in a low frantic tone, ‘I have signed the papers you asked me to. Isn’t that enough to prove my intentions? Why do I have to meet people? I just want to be left alone with Baba. Please don’t take me along.’

  But Vikram refused to relent. ‘Nothing doing. You will come with me, even if I have to drag you along screaming. Now go and get dressed.’

  Gauri became furious. He was forever dictating her actions. ‘You are being your usual hateful, arrogant self. I will not go.’

  She turned to go.

  Seeing her ready to flounce out, Vikram stepped forward and caught her arm to prevent her from fleeing. He yanked her hard into
his arms. He was fed up of Gauri’s constant truculence and rebellious actions. He would bend her to his will.

  Gauri was totally shocked and she watched, stupefied, as he lowered his mouth and kissed her ruthlessly. Held in his punishing grip, her body felt paralysed. But when his tongue entered her mouth her body came back to life. She tried to struggle but he held her immobile in his embrace; his hand reached into her hair to hold her tight and she wriggled in vain. His explosive kiss dragged a response from deep within her and her body started trembling with sensation. Soon she lost all sense except the feel of his lips on hers as he deepened the kiss hungrily and an answering hunger began rising inside her. In some dim corner of her mind a voice was warning her but it was very difficult to decipher what the warning was. She was caught up in a swirl of sensations.

  Vikram relaxed his hold and his hands began roaming seductively over her back. Wherever he touched, Gauri felt flames leaping and burning. His hands slid to her breasts and Gauri felt her legs give way. Vikram looked at Gauri collapsed in his arms and the fog of desire clouding his brain dispersed.

  She was a witch. He could now understand the spell that she worked over men. No wonder her father, her brother, the stable boy and that fancy lawyer were all smitten by her. Mouth hardening, he pushed her upright.

  ‘You have about an hour to get dressed. I will send a maid to help you. Don’t force me to come and dress you myself.’

  He strode away. Gauri looked after him, mortified. Her tongue snaked out to wet her dry swollen lips. She could taste him on her lips. He was playing with her like a cat with a mouse. She should be furious with him but she was more furious with her body for betraying her like this. Every time he kissed her she responded like a wanton. Self-recrimination washed over her. She must have inherited more than just her looks from her flighty mother. It was becoming extremely hard to fight her attraction for Vikram, which seemed to be increasing with each moment she spent in his company. Her feelings, long dormant, were coming awake and her body was sending out signals she didn’t want to understand. She didn’t want to fall in deeper than she already was. But she had no choice. She couldn’t up and leave when her Baba was so ill.

  She felt the beginnings of a headache assail her. A fullblown headache was the last thing she wanted. She trudged into her room.

  A smiling maid appeared, holding the long box that Vikram had selected. Feeling too weary to protest, Gauri allowed the maid to do as she liked. She was subjected to a bath and her hair was blow-dried and make-up applied to her face. Finally, Gauri donned the blouse and the petticoat and the maid tied the sari.

  Gauri had avoided looking into the mirror because she dreaded what she would see. She looked at the mirror only when the maid announced triumphantly, ‘You are ready, Yuvrani ji!’

  She looked at herself in horror. It was like seeing her mother come alive. She had been only five when she last saw her mother and her memories of her were mostly hazy, but she had often seen the image of her splashed in glossies, and the stranger in the mirror looked exactly like her. She hated it. She couldn’t go like this.

  Vikram entered and stood, transfixed. Gauri looked sensational. The black sari she wore clung lovingly to every contour and showcased her perfect figure. The low-cut blouse followed the curve of her full breasts, revealed her delicate shoulders and her sexy back. Her skin glistened and gleamed and his fingers itched to touch her. Her hair hung down her back like a shimmering curtain and he wanted to slide his fingers through the silken strands and bury his face in its fragrance. She looked like every man’s fantasy.

  Desire reared its head, and Vikram shifted his thighs, trying to banish his arousal. She would be the centre of attention. He hated the thought. He knew that men would drool over her. Unbidden, he wanted to kill them. The next moment he scoffed at his violent thoughts. She wasn’t worth it. No woman was.

  Dragging his eyes from her body, he looked at her face. Her body screamed sex while her face shone with the innocence of a goddess. Her make-up was light and perfect but underneath he could see that she was pale and trembling. Strange! An experienced woman like her should have been wearing a triumphant expression, gloating at his open-mouthed reaction.

  But instead she seemed disturbed. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

  ‘I can’t go like this.’ Gauri recoiled in horror from her reflection and turned to him.

  ‘Why?’ Vikram asked baldly.

  ‘I look like my mother. Everyone will associate me with her,’ Gauri blurted in panic.

  Vikram was unable to understand her panic. Her mother, for all her scheming ways, had been a very beautiful woman and he would have thought that Gauri would be preening with pride.

  ‘I hated my mother and detest looking like her. I want to change my clothes.’

  Vikram was taken aback by Gauri’s tremulous tone. ‘You detest your mother! But why?’

  ‘Do you think I’m proud of the way she deceived and cheated Baba? I have often wished that I hadn’t been born!’ Gauri said, unable to control the anguished shame which always struck her whenever she thought of her mother.

  Vikram stared at the hint of tears in Gauri’s eyes. The sincerity of her anguish wasn’t fake. She genuinely detested her mother’s machinations. Maybe she did have some morals after all.

  ‘You look fine! Let’s go. I don’t want to be late.’ Not giving her time to protest, he shepherded her out of the room. Gauri felt her stomach hollowing out with dread. The evening was going to be a disaster.

  As soon as they arrived, a barrage of flashbulbs went off and Gauri looked around, horrified. Vikram held her lightly by the arm and shielded her from the media glare. Gauri was glad that Vikram was holding her because she didn’t think her legs could have supported her. Once inside, they were greeted by an old gentleman, resplendent in traditional royal gear, his face wreathed in smiles. He clapped Vikram on the back and gave him a hug.

  ‘Welcome, Vikram! I am so glad you came.’

  ‘Of course, Shivraj Maharaj, I had to come,’ Vikram said.

  The gentleman then turned towards Gauri and exclaimed, ‘Who is this beautiful young lady with you? I am sure I haven’t met her before!’

  Vikram said, ‘Maharaj, I would like to introduce Kaka Maharaj’s younger daughter, Gauri. She has returned recently after completing her studies.’

  Shivraj Maharaj clasped Gauri’s hands and said sombrely, ‘I am so happy to meet you, my dear! Your father is a dear friend and I was very sad to hear about his stroke. But now that you’re back I’m sure he will recover speedily.’

  Turning to Vikram, he said, ‘Take care of this young lady. I’m sure a horde of admirers is going to line up once she’s inside. Once he recovers, Sambhaji Rao will be inundated by marriage proposals for his beautiful daughter.’

  Gauri blushed with embarrassment at his fulsome compliments.

  Vikram inclined his head and ushered Gauri inside. Once inside, people came up to him and greeted him obsequiously. Gauri noticed that most people had a humble and almost servile manner towards Vikram.

  Now that she saw him properly, she realised that he was looking devastating in the black bandgala suit that he was wearing. The high neck accentuated his powerful throat and outlined his broad shoulders.

  It was customary among royalty that men had their ears pierced and wore studs. Tonight Vikram too wore diamond studs in his ears and they glinted and gleamed sinisterly as he moved his head. He seemed to throb with dark power and, though surrounded by well-dressed men, he stood head and shoulders above the rest. No wonder he suffered from a gigantic superiority complex, Gauri thought wryly. Looking at him she felt a frisson of awareness shoot through her nerve ends. Standing close to him, she felt drenched in his warm masculine scent and, unbidden, the memory of his masterful kisses returned and she felt a shiver of electric current begin winding up from her toes till her insides felt as if they were on fire.

  Vikram acknowledged everyone’s greetings but his aristocratic face remained
distant and reserved. People turned curious eyes towards Gauri but Vikram only introduced her to a handful of them. She began feeling hot and uncomfortable at the pointed stares and hushed whispers of the people. Scenes from her childhood crowded her mind. Her presence had always generated unkind speculation and she had faced similar public reactions.

  Vikram sensed her fidgeting and said in a low voice, ‘What’s the matter? Can’t you stand still?’

  ‘Everyone is staring at us. They are making fun of me, I know it,’ Gauri murmured uncomfortably.

  ‘You are being paranoid. No one is making fun of you,’ he assured her.

  ‘You don’t know that!’ Gauri said.

  ‘Trust me, I know! Human beings are self-absorbed creatures and at such gatherings people are only bothered about themselves, what they are wearing and how they are looking!’ he said derisively.

  ‘It’s easy for you to dismiss them because you are rich and powerful and have an impeccable lineage. But as the illegitimate daughter I have always been the butt of gossip and ridicule. And will continue to be so all my life,’ Gauri said, years of dispiritedness peeping through.

  Vikram looked at Gauri to discern if there was any sarcasm in her reference to his lineage but she seemed most sincere. He grimaced. She didn’t know the truth about his ‘impeccable lineage’.

  He smiled wryly. ‘Don’t bother about people’s gossip! Not one person here has an impeccable lineage. Every family tree has countless skeletons.’

  ‘And, as Grandmother always reminded me, I’m the skeleton who should have been left well hidden,’ Gauri murmured with a break in her voice.

  Vikram was filled with sudden anger at the callousness of her grandmother.

  The pathos in her tone struck him and he finally realised that she, too, hadn’t had it easy. She had her faults but she had always been tagged as the illegitimate daughter. He suddenly wanted to comfort her, to banish the shadows on her beautiful face.

 

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