Saira had accused him of painting her black in his mind, but how else did you define total indifference towards someone who cared for you? Impossible to squeeze out any sympathy for what he considered to be a betrayal of the family. As his people had spurned him without compunction, she had turned her back on her sister, a declaration that loyalty to family ties had no sanctity in her book.
Yet his mind was sneakily insisting she couldn’t have been totally at fault. So lively, so open… that he had found himself letting his guard down. No, he didn’t need the added complication of sharing his past with her.
Just the attraction she exerted was intense enough. He had known that since he’d enjoyed the way she had checked him out. And today it had gone too far. The way he had felt his heart pound in a knee-jerk response to her sensual movements to the music. The way his gaze had hooked to her moistened lips. Even now he was imagining the taste of them beneath his, feeling an ache for more, much more, possessing his body.
Was he mad? He didn’t give a hoot for her beyond taking her out of the path of two people he did actually care for. This was what it was all about. Not catering to his illogically reactive libido.
Easy to read himself a lecture.
If only it was as easy to quiet the raw surge of desire overtaking his reason.
Dinner was a quiet affair. Saira tried to control the huge sense of let-down she felt. The biryani wasn’t the mouth-watering fare she usually made, though the aroma was distinctive. Her fault for not attending to it properly. Which made her remember exactly why she hadn’t.
It wasn’t till the quietness began to wear out her nerves that she realised subconsciously she had been hoping for—for what? His friendliness? That irresistible smile?
What did he think of himself? He could orchestrate his moods and everyone was supposed to jump accordingly?
Yet she couldn’t think of anything to break the monosyllabic and infrequent requests to pass this or hand that. Why had they even chosen to eat together? It was really insulting to food to eat it without enjoying the company. Mainly because your appetite left you. Because your stomach churned.
Yes, their kiss had been a game-changer for them. But who had initiated it? He shouldn’t have been so enthusiastic about it if he didn’t want to take things any further, she thought crossly.
Take things further? Oh hell, what was she thinking? She didn’t want anything with this man, let alone further.
‘No, let me take these.’ More monochrome sentences as he took the dishes. She stared morosely into space then looked up in surprise as he re-entered the dining area with two plates.
‘Ice cream?’ Doubtful pleasure stained her voice.
‘You provided food. So I provide the dessert.’ He half-smiled. ‘Granted, I haven’t actually made it…’
‘But when did you get this?’ She took it. Wow, not vanilla even. Cashew and raisins and rich sweet cream.
‘I rang the shop in town for home delivery when you went upstairs. It arrived and I put it in the fridge. Voilà!’ He raised a spoon to her.
‘Cheers!’ She raised back hers, feeling pleasure lighten her insides. Warm them slowly. Relief spread through her. So perhaps that tiff had been a momentary stumble.
She didn’t question the pleasure that filled her at his thoughtfulness. ‘It’s delicious.’ She risked a look at him. Dared she tease him? ‘Or maybe that’s because of who served it.’
She was flirting with him again, her heart skipping a little with her own daring. A stab of recklessness made her think, why not. But the silence which greeted her joke made her realise she’d gone too far.
She cringed as his face froze and he gave her a blank look.
‘What?’ Her spoon clattered down against the plate as anger sprouted out of the hurt. ‘I can’t say anything, can I? But you can? Who said that earlier about whether I liked what I saw enough to try it out? Or doesn’t it matter when you feel like making a come-on?’ Her rant made her feel ashamed. She shouldn’t let on what she was feeling but hell, how could she hold it back?
‘That was a mistake. I suggest we forget whatever happened in there.’ He jerked a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. ‘We have to get along, it’s true, but it would be idiotic to go along this path. We are really too different for it to work. Attraction between us couldn’t be devoid of complications.’
‘It’s because of who I am, isn’t it?’ Her voice was low to hide the hurt ripping her inside. She shouldn’t have brought it up. Shouldn’t be tackling it in the open. If she wanted to be safe it was a thoroughly bad idea. It could only invite more hurt. ‘It isn’t any use, is it? No matter what you find me to be, you’ll still think the worst.’
‘Does it matter all that much what I think?’
‘It does. I like you and I expect you to like me back.’ She shouldn’t admit it that openly.
She took a deep breath. Too late to retract the words. Maybe she should take the chance to convince him. She could only try. ‘You… you seem to have a wrong impression of me. But if you’d just listen to my side of things…’
‘It doesn’t matter what I think about you.’ He said flatly. ‘And anyway how differently could you put the fact that you stole your sister’s fiancé? Vishakha bhabhisa has been more than generous accepting you back in her life. If you ask me, you didn’t deserve it.’
She almost gasped aloud at the unexpected attack. She wanted to run from the sheer pain of it, yet now she had driven headlong into it she didn’t have much choice. Instinct for self-preservation insisted she’d do well to back off but some foolhardy impulse made her stand her ground.
‘The way you’re accusing me without understanding my side of it, that’s what I don’t deserve. We might be stepsisters but she’s always taken care of me.’
‘You seem to have taken advantage of the fact. Why else would you break her engagement?’
How could she make him understand? ‘I didn’t do it to hurt her.’ Vishakha was so happy now. ‘She’s more happy with Zaheer than she could ever have been with Munish.’
She wasn’t aware really she’d said that last bit aloud till he answered. ‘That wasn’t your intention at the time, though, was it? She didn’t even know Zaheer then. You did it for your own gratification, not her happiness.’
‘Gratification… is that the best you can do?’ She got up, fists clenched at her sides. ‘Let’s not bother with euphemisms. You mean to say sexual satisfaction, don’t you?’ She tried to gain a measure of control, shaken to find her knees unsteady. ‘It’s easy to sit in judgement, but are things really so black and white? At the time it felt like I loved him with all my heart. Maybe I did. All I knew was that Vishakha certainly didn’t. She was so busy with her hospital work, so absorbed in it, and I thought… I genuinely felt he was being ignored. He used to come to see me, confide in me… and then it grew into attraction…
‘Love, lust… I don’t know what it was. I was only twenty years old. Young. Far too impressionable.’
‘Am I supposed to swallow that load of mush?’ he scoffed, also leaving the table to stand and confront her.
‘Rihaan…’ Surely he couldn’t be as hard as that? She took a step further to try and breach that implacability and saw his gaze sharpen suddenly as the threat of electricity crackled between them. Even with the undercurrent of anger, it was unmistakable. She could feel the signs, read the signs, the guarded look that came in his eyes, and felt a perverse satisfaction.
An intention formed, making her breath catch as she realised it.
‘Even you don’t find it easy to ignore it, do you?’ she asked bluntly, facing him in a moment of defiance, then she went forward. ‘Show me how one reasons with this.’ She flung her arms around his neck and brought his head down till she was kissing him.
Anger. Desire. Frustration. Everything mingled in the kiss. The need to make him understand. The need to vent her anger because he didn’t understand. And then there was another need. The need to just experience…
Rihaan felt he was fighting a losing battle. The scent of wild flowers and soft woman surrounded him. Heat. It was everywhere. Hormones unleashing. Blood jumping and skidding in his veins. Engorging a vital zone.
She drew him into a world of beauty. Wildness. Life. She was plastered so close she couldn’t have missed his physical reaction but that he couldn’t control. Giving in to the siren… that he could. He stood still as a wooden board because it was taking all his strength to just remain immovable.
Dimly he recognised the overwhelming need to keep her at a distance. The fact that he needed any excuse to do so. The fact that he wasn’t proud of the effort he needed to do it.
But the rest was swept away as her nearness wreaked havoc on his senses.
He didn’t get into the kiss. As the storm raged inside him he knew that any way he cut this, he came up with only one answer. He was a fool. For turning her down. For wanting her. If he gave in, he would be a bigger fool.
He ached to be that bigger fool.
Saira stepped back with a gasp, shocked at his coldness. Humiliation swept over her like corroding acid. Tears came and she struggled to hold them back. With a strangled sound, an admission of defeat, she shoved him in the chest and ran out of the room.
Two days later
Saira closed the flashy yellow-painted door behind her. She exhaled and took a deep breath, trying to get rid of the odour of cheap beer from her lungs. Not her dream situation but at least she had what she’d set out for.
She had the means to eke out a living.
She had her first ever foray into independence.
She had a job.
Yesss!
She caught the sound of a wolf whistle and turned to see a bearded dirty-faced man grinning at her with a lewd expression. Not the only leering face in the lane either, she noticed as she espied two more further off. Giving him a glare, she reached down and made as if to take off one of her strappy sandals. He pulled back a bit and, with a toss of her head—and a secret sigh of relief—she resumed her walk. Not the most savoury of neighbourhoods. But hopefully she wouldn’t have to stick here more than a month. She just needed to be a bit more solvent.
The tooting of a horn drew her attention and she stilled as she recognised the blue sports sedan. Damn, it looked like his, but surely it couldn’t be?
She had left Rihaan’s home after that last ill-fated kiss. After a night when she hadn’t been able to sleep a wink, she had taken off in the early morning, leaving him a note. She’d travelled to Mira Bayander, found a not-so-cheap hotel at Mira Road and set out job-hunting.
By evening she had the address of a bar and this morning she’d hit paydirt. Life wasn’t great but once she convinced Vishakha to let her be, she thought she could manage it.
And him… he wasn’t a person she wanted to see in the next million years.
‘Get in.’ She could delude herself no longer. The grating command was unmistakable.
She kept walking and he drew the sedan alongside her, idling at near zero speed.
Just her luck, she had to cross the road. Taking advantage of it, he eased the car in front of her, blocking her way.
‘What are you doing?’ she snapped, jumping out of the sedan’s path. He was out of the car in a second. She was almost glad to see him after all. She needed the solidity of his physical presence to direct her rage at.
‘Exactly what I wanted to ask. What are you doing here?’ he came back, dark brows meeting in the centre.
‘What do you think I’m doing? I have a job here.’ That sounded almost a professional reason to be at such a place.
‘Where? In the sleazy bar you came out of a minute ago?’
She shaded her eyes from the sunshine. Yes, she hadn’t been mistaken. In an open-neck shirt and blue jeans, he looked different, but nothing was different really. Yet again he had that overbearing way of looming over her. And his dark expression dated right back to that first evening at the bar.
‘I’m not looking for a protector, okay? Quit trying to act my guardian.’
‘You can’t work here,’ he said flatly.
‘What’s wrong with it?’ She knew very well what was wrong. But that didn’t mean she was going to agree to his heavy-handedness.
‘Get in the car and I’ll tell you.’
‘No.’
‘I’ll have to carry you then.’
‘The first time seems to have hooked you to the experience,’ she jibed.
‘Addicted, in fact. It was such a pleasure.’ His gaze skimmed her, in her three-quarter sleeved knee-length print dress, his face showing none of the pleasure he claimed to be feeling.
‘Well, I’m not in the mood to cater to your addiction.’ Smart words. He took a step forward and she shrank back. ‘Don’t you dare! All those chivalrous claims…! You’re just as opportunistic as the hoodlums back there, aren’t you?’
‘I’ll let that pass this time. Now come on.’ He led the way to the car, the arrogant so-and-so, stopping to wait when she didn’t budge. He exhaled. ‘We need to talk, Saira.’
She glared at him. ‘Okay. But only because I realise you can carry tales to Vishakha and I don’t want her to fret. And, before we go, you’ll tell me where you’re taking me,’ she added, moving towards the car door.
‘For breakfast. I haven’t eaten yet.’ She slid in and he drove out of the lanes, soon steering to open roads. ‘Talk.’ Aviators on, he looked far too capable handling those controls. ‘I think you owe me an explanation for leaving with only a casual note in return for my hospitality.’
So they were going to be stiff and formal about it? She sighed. Maybe he was right to be like this. Letting their hair down hadn’t suited them. Time to put an adult face on. ‘There’s nothing important to tell you. I realised I was depending too much on other people. First Vishakha, then you. I had to make an effort to stand on my own two feet. I’ve got a job and I’ll look around for lodgings. So now I can be financially independent.’
‘Don’t tell me you lack for money.’
She shrugged. ‘Okay. I won’t.’
A short surprised silence. ‘What happened to your divorce settlement?’ he asked curiously.
‘There wasn’t one. I didn’t contest it. I didn’t want a penny from him.’ When he had failed to give her what a husband should. Support. Love. Attention. Honesty. What else could she claim from him?
‘Why?’
What could she say? The truth, probably. ‘I didn’t get what I deserved from him. No money will make up for it and I don’t want to ease his conscience by accepting it. Is that stupid? Probably. But it’s me.’
There was a long silence now. ‘I’m sorry,’ Rihaan said at last. ‘I can’t say I know how you feel. I’ve never been married or divorced, but I can sympathize with being… alone.’
She looked at him in surprise, the unwary words edging sideways into her heart. She saw his mouth compress a bit as though he immediately regretted saying them.
Of course he wouldn’t want to empathize with her.
‘This from Rihaan Khehra?’ She laughed flippantly. ‘What happened while I was gone? You underwent a mental makeover?’
He said, ‘Don’t rub it in. I behaved like an ass the other day. The least I could’ve done was properly listen to you instead of coming across like the worst judgemental idiot there was.’
That complete admission of his earlier unfair coldness took her breath away. Had he been talking to Vishakha? That could explain his turnaround. Only two people in the whole world knew what had actually happened. She had never discussed the situation with anyone else. But his next words expunged that thought.
‘If it helps, I’ve been punished enough for it. Imagine getting up at six and finding the note you left. It wasn’t pleasant having to face the fact that I’d caused you to leave…
‘I drove around, trying to figure out where you could have gone. In fact, I’ve been doing that a lot these past two days,’ he said with a wry smile.
<
br /> Okay, he’s just feeling responsible, she told herself. That blanket of caring he kept for her relatives, he had just extended it to include her as well.
She wasn’t melting away at the rueful edge to that smile. Was she?
She sighed. How could she deny it? His attempt at lightness caused an unexpected tightness in her chest, patching the wound he’d dealt her. Oh, she’d tried to pretend it didn’t matter. But that coldness had hurt her. This open frank disclosure was rubbing it all away like a soothing hand, inducing not just the easing of pain but also comfort.
‘I’ve been worried about you,’ he added, compounding the effect. ‘It was all my fault,’ he reiterated. ‘If I’d listened to you I would have realized… Instead I was too busy trying to deny what had happened between us. It was just easier to think the worst of you. I didn’t want to admit what I felt for you.’
Oopsie! The man packed a punch when he decided to hit. ‘Why didn’t you want to admit it?’ she dared to ask him. She tried to voice it objectively. Coolly. As though her heart wasn’t off like a racehorse on the track at that admission.
‘Will you draw blood now?’ White teeth flashed in a teasing smile. But his eyes were darkly serious as he drawled, ‘Because I liked kissing you way too much and getting attracted to you like that… it wasn’t in the plans at all.’
CHAPTER FIVE
SHE SHOULDN’T HAVE asked him. She could do without thinking of kissing him. His acknowledgement only made it crowd back into the forefront of her mind. Yet what she remembered wasn’t the anger or the stupidity of it. She could only feel the race of her pulse, the forceful, surging desire…
Saira looked out of the window, trying to ease herself out of her uncharacteristic self-consciousness. Nothing she could think of saying would make the situation safer. That was all she wanted between them. A safe, sane, neutral ground.
She sat lost in thought as he drove on but a moment later sat up straighter. ‘Wait a minute—isn’t that white building where we had ice cream that day? You’re headed home!’
‘Breakfast,’ he reminded her glibly. ‘I was too busy looking for you to eat this morning.’
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