Bollywood Fiancé for a Day Read online

  His glance continued to rest on her face and she felt heat touch her cheeks. Thank God, her dusky skin meant she didn’t blush.

  ‘It’s acupressure. See.’ He took her hand and pressed directly below her nail on her longest finger. She felt a jolt run up to her elbow.

  ‘Feel anything?’

  Yeah, but she couldn’t be sure if it was what he meant because the jolts were coming from every point he touched now!

  ‘What am I supposed to feel?’ She glanced at him suspiciously. Was he laughing at her?

  ‘It slows down your heartbeat. And brings down blood pressure. The signs of nervous tension.’

  Well, it wasn’t working. Her heartbeat definitely hadn’t slowed down. Far from it. He seemed to have established some kind of nerve control over her pulse rate through his touch. Abruptly, Vishakha withdrew her hand. ‘I don’t believe in these things.’

  ‘Then you’re a first. Mostly it helps instantaneously.’

  So he went around holding hands and pressing fingers for girls on his film sets? She could imagine them lining up for the therapy! And just where else did his ‘acupressure’ work?

  ‘Do you want to know?’ The low, deep rumble of a murmur playing on her vibration receptors brought her out of her thoughts to the comprehension that he’d picked up all too correctly on them. The suggestive inflection of his tone caused heat to run under her skin once again, the wicked glint in his eyes mesmerizing her for an instant before she fought free of its effect. She didn’t want him to think he had her bowled over like his dozens of fans.

  ‘A girl like me?’ She threw his words back at him. ‘By the way, what exactly do you mean by that?’

  He shrugged, showing off sinewy shoulders. ‘Stuck-up. Starchy. Clinging to trivialities.’

  He didn’t believe in pulling punches, did he? ‘There’s no need to be insulting or to act like I’m in the wrong. You were aware of the whole schedule of this event. Or weren’t you? These things get arranged months in advance, but you still didn’t bother to turn up on time. Of course, you think you’re entitled to do anything, being a celebrity.’

  ‘Well, it has its advantages.’ He raised his brows at her near gasp. ‘What? Did you expect me to deny that?’ He grinned, totally unconcerned, his famous, oddly endearing cheek clefts showing up.

  Frustration made her breathe in a quickened rhythm. For a moment they looked at each other, locked in a silent exchange of vibes—provoked and seething on her side, mocking but unruffled on his. He spread his hands in a peace-making gesture. ‘Hey, don’t get uptight again. It only makes me want to push your boundaries and see how uppity I can make you.’

  Gold flecks showed in the warm hazel eyes. Somehow they sent some errant signals to her system, which had her pulse jumping in response. She inhaled, finding her lungs devoid of air. The action brought the scent of his cologne to her nostrils, a combination of musk and spices. Evocative. Earthy. She could see the smooth texture of his skin, its healthy golden glow accentuating well formed bones. Inviting her to trace it? A tremor ran through her at the thought and she dragged away her gaze to find it focused on the pulse beating a steady rhythm at his throat. Suddenly more conscious of him than she was comfortable with, she found her gaze moving to those packed biceps, the sturdy pectorals delineated by his tee. Awareness zinged through her, stunning her and leaving her slightly disoriented. Of course he was attractive, she knew that. But attractive to her? She didn’t swoon over him with her friends. So why this reaction to him? And why now?

  She swallowed, willing herself not to show her wayward reaction. How funny he would find it. One moment ranting at him to awaken his conscience. The next…

  Pull yourself together, girl. You aren’t going to go goo-goo eyed over him now.

  She straightened her shoulders, flicking him as cold a look as she could manage in the circumstances. ‘That’s your excuse for doing anything you like?’

  ‘What makes you think I need an excuse?’

  Temporarily out of an answer, she clamped her mouth shut. He even had the nerve to chuckle gently at her obvious frustration at not being able to bite back at him.

  * * *

  Zaheer looked down at the face averted from him, the full lips almost trembling in agitation. This was better. He could deal with defiance much better than the vulnerability he’d briefly glimpsed in her face. He’d surprised himself. From getting irritated over her stuffy lecture, how had he gone to waving a white flag? Something to do with those dark eyes gazing at him, wounded like a doe’s.

  Hell, that was so fanciful and imaginative he should be writing scripts instead of acting them.

  When he had entered the hall just minutes ago, his mind had been on his future schedule rather than the present moment. Then, while he shook hands with the brand owners, his eyes had homed in on her. Clad in a midnight-blue gown with a strappy halter-neck that left her slender shoulders bare and gleaming. Dark eyes shooting sparks at him. Purely antagonistic vibes had emanated from her, even from across the hall, for some obscure reason causing a tightening of his abs and sending a quickening excitement racing through his blood. Too bad he didn’t even have the time to check her out properly, he’d mused, looking away.

  Then they were on stage and he’d spoken to her, but her opening words had thrown him like a racing car gone off-track. He’d met her gaze and felt a shaft of electricity burn through him at the simmering feeling in the eyes turned full-beam on him.

  Then she’d let loose her tirade. As though he wasn’t a guest who was late at a promotional event but one of her emergency team being tardy in the ICU! The intention he’d had of excusing himself had gone out for a walk the moment she’d put on that prim pursed-mouth expression and turned those glaring big eyes on him. Moral crime indeed! His old secondary school principal would have killed to have her on the staff.

  Now Zaheer looked down on her, noting the still rapid inhalations of her breath. She looked angry, upset. Desirable. At another time he might be tempted to unravel the reasons why.

  But he had already procrastinated enough. He had a late meeting scheduled with a scriptwriter. He should be making a move now, doing a last round of handshakes. Instead, he was looking at the downcast lashes and the elongated shadows they made on her cheeks, instinct moving him to prod softly, ‘Lost your tongue, honey? Nothing more to say?’

  He waited for the pepper shower.

  She didn’t disappoint him, her flashing gaze coming up instantly. ‘You mean it matters to you? You seem to have decided your course without regarding anyone’s feelings. There was the small matter of a date here, besides the promotional publicity for you, remember? Very conveniently, you seem to have forgotten that.’

  He’d provoked her, he had to admit that. His eyebrows drew together. ‘No one can be held responsible for circumstantial delay but, for your information, it has been on my mind that you’ve been let down. I’ve spoken to the sponsors. You’ll be compensated.’

  ‘With your autographed stuff, the manager has told me. Is that what you call sticking to your promise?’

  His eyes narrowed. Her dagger looks might get things done where she was in charge but if she thought she’d have him scraping his knees kneeling to her in apology, she was definitely making a mistake!

  That look of faraway absorption earlier had surprised him. Those nut-brown eyes looking abstractedly into the distance. Some past pain flitting over her expression for a scant second, too transient for him to be sure it wasn’t a trick of the light. Not that he set store by it. Women always looked so tragic, even when all they were thinking of was that the nail polish they had just bought didn’t go with their dress after all.

  He must have been mistaken. She’d been all rolled-up sleeves to argue him out of breath. Hard to believe this woman with that whiplash for a tongue, a facsimile of the fearsome deity Durga, could ever be vulnerable.

  He said patiently, ‘No, I call it unavoidable.’

  Fuming, she faced him. ‘Anything for y
our expediency! And why can’t you stay? Because you have to be at another PR event? No. Don’t bother answering that. I understand you’re a busy star and your time is worth millions.’

  He exhaled, striving for patience.

  Still, in spite of the irritation, he couldn’t help feeling a grudging admiration for her. She was so completely unafraid to speak her mind. Very few of his acquaintances, and none of the female ones, would have the directness to accost him that way.

  She was right, of course, if not in manner, in spirit. He had been terribly late. His hosts had been gracious—rather, they had been totally understanding, though he suspected that was in part because they were relieved too, in no small measure, not to have their occasion completely cancelled.

  But he had known that he’d overstepped the bounds. He’d known it even before the last scene of his film shoot in Rajasthan had been wrapped up and he was streaking in the rented Audi away from the set. A little proactive thinking and a bit of cooperation from the Mumbai city officials—more than a bit, really, since the hotel didn’t have a helipad—and he had made it after all. He hadn’t got where he had by losing people’s goodwill and not living up to their expectations. Even when he was doing it for free.

  ‘Kicking their heels’, Vishakha had said. It couldn’t be helped. The columnists were certainly going to have some fodder for tomorrow’s page three.

  Hell, it hadn’t even been his fault. The filming that should have finished this morning had been delayed till late afternoon. All thanks to Mia, his current leading lady. He knew her tantrums were designed precisely to drive him up the wall. He had to admit she’d been succeeding admirably. She’d known he had a busy schedule today. She could wrap his PA around her charming finger and get that information with little effort. She hadn’t let the shot be finalized till the director had come close to chewing off his fingers, his nails already long gone. The price the poor guy was paying for having a ‘heroine’, as the old-fashioned term went, for a wife.

  Thank God he’d escaped the traps Mia had set him when she’d decided she should settle down for good. After witnessing his parents’ fiasco of a marriage and a first-hand view of how spouses could wreak misery on each other, he had no wish to fall into that trap.

  There was no difference between his father and a walking zombie where feelings were concerned and his mother had always lived up to the silent suffering wife stereotype. He knew she’d been hurt so much, trapped in a marriage with a cold, indifferent man like his dad. No, his parents’ relationship didn’t inspire one to rush into the institution of marriage and he didn’t want to get manacled any time soon. So he’d avoided Mia and her clever attempts to sink her elegant but deadly claws into him.

  However, dodging the bullet had whetted the actress’s appetite that marital bliss with an upcoming director had failed to appease. Mia still pursued him in her own way. She’d tried to delay him so he would miss the charity programme and instead have to attend the after-shoot party she had organized. She’d known he wouldn’t leave till the work was finished. Permission to shoot at Chittorgarh Fort had been given by the authorities for a limited time and the pack up had to be that day. So she’d taken it on herself to interfere with his peace, and to an extent had succeeded.

  His attention returned to Vishakha, chin tilted up, soft mouth pursed. She did have a point. He couldn’t deny he was leaving just to meet his own engagements. It certainly wasn’t going to be easy on his conscience to ignore her jibe.

  Instinct rebelled against conceding to her. But, reluctant though he might be to give in to the reproach in her big brown eyes, he realized he’d have to if he hoped for a good night’s sleep. Despite eight successful years in Bollywood, he hadn’t lost touch with reality. The fans who had made him a huge success could pull him down any time. He never forgot those initial shoe-tearing, soul-wearing years of struggle and he never displeased people if he could help it.

  The feeling which had been like a fly nagging him now assumed the eye-watering discomfort of a dust storm that couldn’t be ignored.

  ‘So, tell me—what do you want?’

  Whatever he might surmise, it certainly didn’t hit even close to her next words.

  ‘Nothing less than what you owe me,’ she said simply. ‘A date with you.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  SHE COULDN’T BELIEVE she’d said that.

  A date with you.

  Her glance meshed with an annoyed hazel gaze.

  She inhaled at her own daring. In her rashness, she hadn’t paused to think, her pulse quickening even as she said the words that echoed like a battle call, a shankh naad of the olden war times when the conch shell blown into sounded the hoot of challenge.

  ‘Why?’

  The succinct query threw her. ‘What do you mean why?’ she snapped. ‘It’s the right thing to do.’

  His face gave nothing away and her bravado began to slip in the face of that impassivity.

  ‘It was promised,’ she reminded him. She hated sounding so defensive. ‘How…’ How would you feel if you were left waiting for something that never happened? she meant to say but she stopped, because she didn’t want him feeling sorry for her. She did want to hold him to his commitment, though. She’d just been disregarded by two important people in her life. She had no control over that, but here—Her shoulders squared. She wouldn’t be sidelined for the mere convenience of this actor. And that was that.

  ‘What. I. Owe. You,’ he said, echoing her earlier words. ‘You do realize the only way for me to accede to your request would be for us to go privately—you know, like a real date?’

  A dun dun dun sounded in her head in tandem with his announcement.

  ‘What?’

  ‘What else?’ he jibed, standing there looking down at her with thumbs hooked into his belt in a cowboy pose. Every inch the arrogant, soaked-in-confidence male daring her to defy him, with that eyebrow slanted upwards. ‘Everyone’s on a schedule here and I’m not upsetting their applecart. It’s not their fault things got this delayed; in fact they wouldn’t have done so, except for—’ He broke off again and asked, ‘So? Would you come on a real date with me? You have to decide what you want, Vishakha. It’s your prize, after all.’

  Prize. What a word to use when it was him—six foot odd and with a physique like the Deccan Plateau—they were talking about. What he said filled her unduly with a heady rush and an odd sense of power. She gave herself a mental shake. He could make anyone feel what he wanted them to. It was his business after all. Tweaking the strings in the hearts of the unwary audience sitting in the darkened halls, so that when he said ‘I love you’ on the screen, every riveted girl had the illusion she was his particular target.

  Was he really giving her precedence or just acting that way? Maybe hoping that when given the choice she’d gracefully bow out.

  Maybe she should. But no…not after going on and on about him looking after his own interests. She cringed now how self-righteous she had sounded. Well, she owed it to herself to keep her end up.

  ‘Very well,’ she conceded.

  ‘Very well?’ he repeated, obviously surprised. ‘You want to go on a date with me?’ He directed a quizzical glance at her.

  ‘Isn’t that what you just offered?’

  ‘I just wonder what you’re offering.’ The overtly sexual innuendo in his deep voice, with that sensual husky emphasis on the last word, made her toes curl in her silver slip-ons. At the same time her breath escaped through her teeth at his brashness.

  Well, she wasn’t going to let him get to her. ‘A real date.’ She dared to say, ‘That’s what you said and that’s what you get.’

  ‘This evening just got interesting, I think.’ The Zaheer Saxena brand was highlighted by the sexy clefts in his lean cheeks as he smiled slowly. She totally wished she’d missed that. Hazel eyes caught her gaze, the look sinking into hers slowly, like a knife sliding into butter. She felt the effect of it curl to her fingertips. With an effort she dragged her attentio
n away. She knew it was a bad idea to go on this date, the way she felt near him. Or maybe quite a brilliant one if she wanted to seize the opportunity to…

  To what? Lengthen the time she spent with him? Explore why little electrical charges seemed to be running across her skin every time he stepped nearer to her?

  This hadn’t happened to her before. Oh, she had had her share of crushes on handsome resident doctors. But she’d always known her Papa wanted an arranged marriage for her, so she’d stayed away from them. It hadn’t required effort to fight that attraction. Unlike now. As though this man had a beam-you-up spotlight just like the starship in a game she’d used to play. You stepped into the circle and whoosh, you were swept up into its mysterious insides.

  ‘Zaheer…’ someone called. He was wanted and he excused himself. ‘If you have to wait for me again, remember I’ll be making it all up to you later on.’ He winked and was swallowed up in the group.

  Left to her own devices, Vishakha stood frowning. The crowd was dispersing. The image of those glinting gold flecks still in her mind, she made her way to the patio encircling the hall. Her head spun with the after effects of meeting Zaheer Saxena.

  She supported her hands on the cool rail, inhaling the scent of damp earth. It had rained during the time she’d been inside. The breeze coming from the wet garden hit her bare arms.

  What had she been thinking? If she hadn’t been so rattled from last week, she’d never have pressed him for this ridiculous ‘real’ date.

  Her last date had been with her ex-fiancé. Admittedly a total disaster. She’d been so pleased a two-year-old patient with pneumonia had survived against all odds, she’d provided Munish with the details of it all through the evening. He had listened with what she’d thought must be interest, but could only have been politeness because he’d cut short their date saying he had an urgent call from home. She had tried not to mind but the evening had left her disturbed. She cringed at herself now. What a dim bulb! He’d been making an excuse to get away from her obviously boring ravings about her patient and she hadn’t even guessed.