Twelve Hours of Temptation
Page 7
He was deep in thought as he drove towards the waterfront. The Mandovi River passed right by Panaji, and after he’d parked the car he found a little restaurant that overlooked it. It was the first time in a long, long while that he’d been involved enough with a woman to worry about her. Not used to analysing his own feelings, he tried to tell himself that it was the natural result of the rushed relationship they’d had. One day they’d hardly known each other, the next they were having wild, passionate sex. And now they were acting out a ‘just friends’ charade that was a positive insult to his status as a red-blooded male.
Samir’s phone rang when he was halfway through his dessert.
‘Can you come and pick me up?’ a quiet voice asked.
Immediately he knew something was wrong.
‘Where?’ he asked, and she named a popular store on the main street.
‘I’m standing outside,’ she said.
She looked positively woebegone when he drew up in front of her.
‘Everything OK?’ he asked gently, seeing how close to tears she was.
‘Justin didn’t recognise me,’ she said. ‘My own nephew. And Michael didn’t tell him who I was because he was worried he’d go home and tell Dad. They sneaked out to meet me like I’m some kind of fallen woman or something. Michael kept saying that I should go and meet our parish priest—apparently he’s the only person Dad discusses me with.’
She was practically shaking with rage, and once they were out of the tiny city Samir pulled up to the side and held out his arms. Melissa glared at him for a few seconds, as if he was personally responsible for the mess her life was in. Then, with a half suppressed sob, she crept into his arms.
Her body was soft and yielding against his, and because she wasn’t crying any longer, just holding on to him for comfort, he felt no guilt in tipping up her face after a few minutes and kissing her. He’d meant the kiss to be gentle, but she seemed to go up in flames as soon as his lips touched hers.
‘Hey...’ he said softly as her fingers fumbled eagerly at his shirt buttons. ‘Maybe we should get back to the hotel.’
For a few seconds she didn’t seem to have heard him, and then she gave a shaky little laugh and drew away from him. ‘You’re right,’ she agreed. ‘Before the morality police catch up with us.’
She didn’t say anything about having got him out of her system, he noted with satisfaction as he started the car.
‘You’re the first man I’ve been with after Josh,’ Melissa said abruptly after a few minutes.
Samir glanced across at her. He’d thought as much after the previous night—she wasn’t inexperienced, exactly, but it was evident that she didn’t sleep around. Why she would want to give the impression that she did was something else altogether.
‘So the one-night stand thing...?’
‘Was just me trying to prove to myself that I could do casual sex if I wanted to.’ She made a funny little grimace. ‘Didn’t work.’
Samir couldn’t help laughing at her expression. ‘You know what? I’m glad it didn’t,’ he said. ‘At the risk of sounding impossibly old-fashioned, I must admit that I don’t really approve of casual sex. And I’d like us to be more than a one-night stand.’
Melissa wrinkled her nose. ‘What? Like a proper relationship?’
‘Something like that.’ They had stopped at a traffic light, and he leaned across and kissed her bare shoulder, making her shiver in reaction. ‘Don’t think about it right now, though.’
The light changed, and they were moving again, so Melissa didn’t ask why not. Instead, she asked, ‘Were you in a relationship before this?’
The way she said ‘relationship’ was incredibly cute—rather like a precocious child trying out a new word—and Samir smiled involuntarily. It was one of the most attractive things about Melissa: the little flashes of naiveté that showed between the chinks of her self-assured, woman-in-charge-of-her-own-sexuality persona.
‘Not a serious one,’ he said. ‘But I was dating someone for almost year.’
Her eyebrows flew up. ‘You spent a year with someone you weren’t serious about?’
He shrugged. ‘We thought it would work out initially. And it was convenient to have someone to bring along to social dos.’
‘It sounds awful,’ Melissa said frankly. ‘And before that?’
‘Before that I had a very intense fling with a journalist. That time we were both clear it wasn’t going to last.’
‘You’re an even bigger disaster than I am,’ Melissa said. ‘The L word didn’t happen ever? Even when you were in college?’
He was silent for a few seconds, and then he said, ‘It did happen. Not when I was in college, but very soon after I graduated. Turns out I picked the wrong person.’
‘She met someone else?’
He shook his head. ‘No, just changed her mind about me. But it was a long while ago. Tell me about the guy you were with—why was your father so against him?’
As soon as the words were out of his mouth he wished he hadn’t asked. Her face clouded over again, and she bit her lip.
‘Josh was Australian—that was one thing. And he was definitely not serious about me; it was just a holiday romance as far as he was concerned.’
Samir hesitated a little. He’d shifted the conversation away from his own botched-up love life because he hated talking about the one period in his life when he’d let another person control him emotionally. He hadn’t, however, wanted to make Melissa relive what had probably been a more traumatic experience—in his case at least his family had been kept out of it. Now he could hardly change the topic again without seeming callous, so he searched around for a question that would show he was listening without being overly intrusive.
‘How did you meet Josh?’ he asked finally.
‘He came into the restaurant when I was doing the lunch shift. He was a travel writer, and he was in Goa to do some background research for his new book. I was used to foreigners—our restaurant had got good reviews on quite a few travel websites and we got dozens of tourists coming in every day. Josh was different. He’d been in the country only for a few weeks, but he seemed totally at home—like he was born here. We got talking, and...well, before I knew it I’d agreed to help him out with his research. I speak Konkani, and even a little Portuguese, and he needed someone to translate when he interviewed the locals.’
Samir felt a totally alien emotion sweep over him—it took him a few seconds to realise that it was jealousy. Melissa’s voice had taken on a wistful tone that he’d never heard before, and he had a mad urge to hunt Josh down and smash his face in for him. Because he’d quite obviously hurt Melissa—not to mention messing up her relationship with her family.
It took some effort keeping his voice neutral as he asked, ‘Your father didn’t stop you from dating him?’
‘He didn’t know for a long while,’ Melissa said. ‘Josh used to flirt with me a little, but I didn’t take it seriously at first. Then we started spending more time together—he showed me the work he’d already done on the book, and it was amazing. He wrote really well. You could visualise each sentence. I think I fell for his writing first. My dad found out I was having an affair with Josh just a week before he was due to leave India. I didn’t want to miss those last few days with him and I refused to listen to my dad. Just packed up a bag and moved into Josh’s place. He’d paid the rent for a full quarter, so after he left I had a place to stay for a while. My dad refused to let me into the house.’
‘How did you end up in Mumbai, then?’
‘I called Aunty Liz. She’s Brian’s wife, and she’s a kind of cousin several times removed. I’ve always been close to her, and I thought she could help me get a job outside Goa. I majored in English literature—it’s a pretty useless qualification, but I write pretty well. Brian offered me a copywr
iting job, and it seemed like the perfect solution.’
‘Are you still in touch with him?’
‘With Brian?’ Melissa asked, looking puzzled.
For an instant, Samir felt like shaking her.
‘Oh, you mean Josh. Well, yes—he e-mails me sometimes, but we’re just friends now. I’m over him, if that’s what you’re asking.’
It was exactly what he was asking, and the casual way in which she said she was over Josh was more believable than if she’d protested vehemently.
‘I don’t know if I was really in love with him either,’ she said after a while. ‘It was all so mixed up. I didn’t mind working in the restaurant, but a part of me had always wanted to escape. Then there was something glamorous about dating a foreigner—especially a writer. Maybe I just got a little carried away, trying to prove that I was an independent woman with a life of my own.’ There was another little pause, and then she said, ‘Or at least that’s what I tell myself now. At the time I was pretty besotted with him. I even hoped he’d take me with him when he left India.’
‘You were pretty young,’ Samir said easily. ‘Most people get carried away the first time they fall in love.’
‘I guess,’ Melissa said, adding silently to herself that ‘most people’, however, didn’t run away from their families—or ignore the opposite sex for two years after the relationship ended and then suddenly decide that they wanted to have a casual relationship with the first man they found attractive.
Twisting her hands together in her lap, Melissa felt suddenly very close to tears. She’d thought she’d moved on—become a different person from the confused, heart-sore and rebellious girl who’d left Goa two years ago. Meeting Michael and Cheryl had brought it all back, and she didn’t feel anywhere near as confident about her choices as she had earlier.
Especially after Michael had put a hand over hers and said, in his quiet way, ‘Dadda and me didn’t behave right with you, Melly. You’d never have left us if Mamma was still there.’
He was right, and that made it all so much worse. She’d whisked her hand out from under his and announced tightly that she needed to leave. Then she’d called Samir, wanting—no, needing his quiet strength by her side. And he’d been wonderful, encouraging her to talk without prying unnecessarily or turning judgemental. Not in the least like Josh, who’d hated any kind of emotional outburst—especially when it had to do with her family.
They were at the hotel now, and Samir pulled into the parking lot. Immediately the atmosphere between them changed, and Melissa felt a shiver of anticipation run through her. Samir came around to open her door and she automatically went into his arms as soon as she got out of the car. It felt like coming home as she inhaled the now familiar smell of his aftershave and pressed even closer to his hard, muscular body.
He was perfect, she thought as a wave of lust swept over her. Strong and gentle and wildly exciting all at the same time—she’d been crazy to think that a single night with him would be enough.
The kiss was slow this time, and unexpectedly sensuous, and when his lips finally left hers Melissa found herself clinging on to him for support.
A little breathlessly, she asked, ‘Your room or mine?’
FIVE
‘Move in with you?’ Melissa looked a little taken aback. ‘Isn’t that a bit drastic? We only met a couple of weeks ago.’
‘It’s the practical thing to do,’ Samir said. ‘I’m at serious risk of dying of frustration.’
It was a week since they’d returned from Goa, and they’d managed to spend only one afternoon together. Melissa’s hostel had a curfew, and Samir was working crazy hours as he tried to get Mendonca’s finances into shape before he handed it over to a new business head and moved back to Maximus. Sure, they saw each other in the office, but that wasn’t enough—after spending their last few days in Goa almost exclusively in bed, it was torture having to pretend that they were just colleagues.
The thought of actually going back to the same house and sleeping—or staying awake—in the same bed was so incredibly tempting that the practicalities didn’t strike Melissa for several minutes.
‘What if it doesn’t work out?’ she asked. ‘We might get tired of each other, or you might find out that I’m such a slob you can’t bear having me around in your house.’ Another thought occurred to her, and she went on without giving him a chance to interrupt. ‘I’d have to give up my room in the hostel. There’s no way I’ll get it back later.’
‘You won’t need it later,’ Samir said. ‘Look, let’s give it a shot. If it works—great. If not, we’ll part ways, and I swear I’ll help you find a place to live that’s even better than your too-good-to-be-true hostel. I want us to be together.’
He was leaning forward a little as he spoke, and although his words were ordinary enough Melissa felt an automatic little thrill run through her in response to the simmering desire in his eyes.
‘What about people at the agency finding out?’
Samir shrugged. ‘Half of them have already guessed,’ he said. ‘And the rest don’t need to know anything other than that you’re my girlfriend.’
He was right, and the only reason Melissa still hesitated was because she knew that she was getting into murky waters here. A quick, no-holds-barred fling was what she’d wanted. But, like the lady in her favourite washing powder ad, she’d got a lot more than she’d expected. A heartbreakingly good-looking boyfriend. A complicated decision to make.
Sneaking a quick look at Samir, she wondered why it felt so tough. Sure, Brian and Liz would probably be horrified if she moved in with Samir, but her other friends wouldn’t care much. It was more that she herself wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do.
Perhaps if she’d met him a few years later she’d have been panting to move in with him. But right now her plans included rising up the agency ranks to make creative director, writing the perfect novel and travelling around India in her spare time. By train, because she was still flight-phobic. Men figured in her plans, but in the relative scheme of things they were at the same level of importance as the ad breaks on a movie channel.
Samir, however, showed signs of wanting to be the main feature film—worse, if she didn’t get a grip on her life that was exactly what he’d end up being. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him. She did—a lot. But falling for him would clearly be a bad idea. He moved in completely different circles from her—his friends were socialites and high-flying executives, and Melissa knew she’d feel deeply uncomfortable with them.
Also, his lifestyle was as different from hers as a Bollywood star’s was from the man who ran the corner vada-pav stall. He’d never commuted by bus or local train, and he’d looked surprised and a little disbelieving when she’d told him that she actually preferred public transport to whizzing around in an air-conditioned car. And he hated eating out at the little roadside joints she favoured. Small things, but they all added up to make the practical side of her brain think that their living together might not be idyllic. In spite of the red-hot sex.
Then again, the practical side of her brain hadn’t had much of a say in the decisions she’d made since she’d met Samir.
It was difficult thinking things through while Samir was still watching her, his expression inscrutable. Probably he thought she was a right ninny, dithering around instead of saying anything. Wishing she was the organised type—the kind of person who could draw up a mental list of pros and cons and decide in a minute—she frowned as she tried to concentrate.
What other people thought didn’t really matter. Nor did it really matter whether she liked his friends or he liked hers. What mattered was whether she wanted to move in with him or not. And the more time she spent with Samir, the more she felt she wanted to.
It wasn’t just that he was spectacular in bed—the more she got to know him, the more she liked h
im as a human being. His aloof, sometimes overly serious work persona concealed a genuinely warm, fun side that she’d got to know over the past couple of weeks. And, unlike Josh, he seemed to be as keen on her as she was about him. She couldn’t help the warning bells that went off in her head every time she found herself getting a bit more involved with Samir, but she could decide to ignore them.
‘Don’t over-think it,’ he was saying softly now, his hand moving persuasively up her thigh. ‘Just go with the flow.’
God, she’d always hated that expression, but when Samir said it, it sounded positively enticing. Not to mention the way his hand was making her feel. Impulsive and wanton were the words that came to mind as she said, ‘When should I start moving my stuff?’
* * *
‘Maya Kumar’s offered me a job,’ Melissa announced two weeks later.
Samir looked up from his computer and frowned. ‘The one that guy was speaking to you about? Ashish, or whatever his name was.’
‘Akash,’ Melissa said. ‘Yes, that one. She’s giving me a sixty percent pay-hike and she’s also given me the option of working from home. What d’you think?’
‘It’s your decision,’ Samir said slowly. ‘Sixty percent is good, but we’d be able to match that here. And I’ll be out of Mendonca and on to my next project in a few months—do you still want to leave?’
Melissa plonked herself into the chair opposite Samir. ‘We’ve talked about this,’ she said. ‘It’ll look really weird, you giving me a pay-hike when everyone knows I’m your girlfriend.’
She’d moved into Samir’s plush flat a week ago, giving the agency staff enough food for gossip for the next year at least. Other than Dubeyji, the elderly Hindi copywriter, no one had openly expressed disapproval, though Devdeep had taken to addressing her in a terribly stiff and formal way.
Samir shrugged. ‘I don’t particularly care what they think,’ he said.