Bollywood Fiancé for a Day Read online

  The women he was used to seeing spent their time in spas and beauty salons. She was a different kettle of fish altogether.

  The whole Vishakha episode was like introducing a new colour to his life. And it plunged him further into a situation unlike anything he was used to.

  She had been all starchy disapproval when she’d laid eyes on him, so obviously the second opinion he had formed of her had been wrong. But she had pushed him for the date, so what else was he supposed to think?

  Why had she compelled him to take her on that ill-fated date? A woman so obviously unimpressed by his celluloid image? Someone like her was a novelty in his life and he couldn’t help being intrigued. He wanted to know what exactly had transpired that evening and what had motivated her to act as she had. And he fully intended to find out.

  Even if it took the time he had in short supply.

  Never one to be cooped up, he walked out of the office. The corridor split and led the way to an open yard. Small kids played there and he paused to watch.

  * * *

  Vishakha sent the patient, her last one for the day, for an ultrasound. An unexpected rush meant that her duty hours had extended as usual beyond the official ones. Espying the black SUV outside, she got up. She’d seen Zaheer take off in the car and assumed he’d got tired of waiting and left. Was he back again?

  Her small office was empty. Drawn by the giggling sounds of the kids, she hurried to the compound. A sight awaited her and unexpected laughter bubbled up inside her. Because the cool, hip playboy stood assaulted by tiny tots and older kids alike. They tugged at him, pulling probably thousands of rupees’ worth of T-shirt out of shape to draw his attention. One of the smaller ones sat merrily riding his shoulders.

  ‘Toffee!’ demanded a slip of a girl with pigtails.

  ‘Jhoola!’ shrieked two skinny boys, pulling on his elbows. The others formed a tight circle, jabbering excitedly, ‘Phir se karo na. How did you lift Karan and Rashim upside down?’

  He offered the little girl a bag of candy and she took a fistful, smiling angelically up at him.

  ‘OK, one at a time.’ His disciplinary action went to the winds as the chattering became a heated discussion of who’d go first. Vishakha giggled at his useless attempts to placate them. The self-possessed hotshot was definitely at a disadvantage—and it was a sight she wasn’t beyond enjoying.

  His eyes met hers and he shrugged helplessly, caught in the deluge of more tugs. The more energetic ones began to shove and shout.

  ‘Hey, break it up.’ He separated the dissidents. ‘Go arm-wrestle the way I told you and who wins gets to go first. OK? Done.’ He high fived with them and made his way to Vishakha, crackles sounding as he stepped over the multitude of gold and red candy wrappers littering the yard.

  ‘You could have come over to help instead of watching tamasha, doctor saab,’ he said severely.

  ‘And miss the sight of you bombarded by all those kids? Not on your life.’ She grinned, unrepentant. ‘Your hair’s all mussed.’

  ‘Chocolate is a great ice breaker.’ He smiled, those sexy clefts deepening in his cheeks. ‘First they wouldn’t come near me, then they saw the sweets and shyness went out of the…er…lawn.’

  ‘I won, I won, please Zaheer, jhoola,’ came a chorus from two three-foot torpedoes streaking towards them and with an, ‘Excuse me,’ he obligingly took the two wriggling boys, one under each arm and moved back to give them a whirl that probably beat a machine run merry-go-round, the air filled with shrill squeals and unrestrained chuckles.

  Vishakha’s smile stilled as she saw the look of open enjoyment on his and the kids’ faces. To think that Zaheer Saxena, of all people, would spend his thousand-bucks-a-minute time here, and none of it for the benefit of cameras, was close to impossible. Two more kids went up next, hoisted comfortably and a shiver went over her at the trusting way the kids clung to him.

  Of course no one was immune to that charm.

  It was surface only. Superficial. Designed to ensnare.

  But right now it was honest. Pure. Straight from the heart to make the little faces crinkle with smiles.

  She’d been ready to laugh at him when she’d thought the kids had overpowered him. But now a different emotion took its place. This soft melting feeling growing in her heart—surely it won’t do? she thought, aghast. Had she finally been keeled over by the hotshot too? What a sobering thought.

  He swung a little girl up in the air and whooshed her back down again, his gaze finding Vishakha as he straightened. He quieted the children and the matrons came over to lead them back inside.

  ‘Sorry I was late.’ Vishakha tried to break the aura that had snared her to the spot.

  ‘Being late is inexcusable, don’tcha know?’ He smiled meaningfully in response. She caught his drift but couldn’t bring herself to snap at him. Where had all the resentment she felt disappeared?

  ‘OK. I guess I did come on rather strongly back there at the event.’ She returned his smile. ‘I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.’

  ‘Wow, this deserves to be celebrated.’

  She didn’t mind his small dig, saying ruefully, ‘If it does, all I can offer you is tea and biscuits.’

  ‘You aren’t finished here yet?’ he asked.

  She told him about her patient she’d sent for the ultrasound. She was waiting for the results.

  ‘The nurse told me you get off at seven officially. It’s going on for eight now.’

  She spread her hands. ‘Can’t very well turn the patients away. Mostly we are a referral but, once in a while, like the case you saw, we get some tough emergency. In any event, they have to be seen to.’

  ‘OK then, tea sounds fine.’

  Had she just asked him to stay for tea? How had that happened?

  The idea of a cosy talk with him made her hesitate. She should ask him now why he was here. But, before she could, he spoke. ‘It’s some job you’re doing here.’ His laconic comment was belied by the warmth in his gaze.

  Suddenly nervous, she said offhandedly, ‘Someone has to do it.’

  ‘Do they?’

  His dry tone seemed to underline how ungracious she had sounded. She attempted to placate him. ‘Mom is always saying I don’t know how to take compliments. I should say thanks. Sorry I gave the impression I didn’t appreciate what you said.’

  ‘Like you gave me the wrong impression that day at the promo?’

  A little off balance by his smooth change of topic, she could only manage a stupid, ‘Huh?’

  ‘Why did you flirt with me that time?’

  ‘You’ve come a long way just to find that out,’ she snapped, stung by his bringing up the evening she was desperate to forget.

  ‘Actually, I came to apologize for your interrupted date and in particular for the way I came on to you in the car.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  DID HE REALLY mean that? She hadn’t thought he, of all people, could apologize and mean it. In the limo, he’d muscled over to her just because she’d given him the mistaken impression she’d enjoy a closer association with him. It had been too much to swallow at the time. But, considering the kind of fast society he lived in, maybe it wasn’t so out of the way for him to presume that fluttering eyelashes automatically led to kissing. People didn’t go ‘mwah, mwah’ smooch smooch in her world the way she’d seen them at the Dream Date promo.

  Of course that didn’t completely excuse him in her book.

  Shankar brought them cane chairs. Seated, Zaheer resumed, ‘At first I was subjected to sizzling disapproval. Then you insisted on us going on that date. I felt some doubt that you liked me but—’ he leaned back and shrugged coolly ‘—maybe it was the way you appeared, killer dress, make-up and all, looking like a woman of the world.’ His gaze swept over her hair, now tied in a loose knot at her nape, the folds of her tunic draping her body. She could almost visualize the contrast he must be seeing. She’d been almost of his world then. Elegant. Svelte. Now, seeing her her
e in her clinical, no-nonsense attire, he was obviously struck with the difference. Her world didn’t require glamour. Serviceable was the key word here, not like his sophisticated ladies.

  Now why should that rankle?

  ‘Just because I’m dressed in a certain way, it gives you the right to make assumptions about me?’

  ‘Not assumptions. It was a judgement call. There’s a difference. It’s assessing and drawing conclusions based on what you’ve experienced enough times.’ He lifted a shoulder and let it drop. ‘We all dress and appear in a certain way depending on what we are.’

  ‘So if I like to wear churidars or jeans usually, I can’t wear a nice dress to an event without sending the wrong message to a man?’

  ‘I’d say your wearing that dress said a lot about your state of mind that night. It wasn’t just an attractive dress, but a very sexy one…’ he murmured. ‘No, a woman like I’m finding you to be wouldn’t wear it, Vishakha. Unless she wanted to prove a particular point.’

  He was uncanny. Too perceptive. It made her uncomfortable, leaving her with a hollow, vulnerable sensation in her stomach.

  His words swam in her consciousness. Was it true? Had she wanted to prove something to herself? Was that why, even with muscles stiff from the unaccustomed pose, she’d still spent two hours in the salon, allowing the make-up artist a free hand. She couldn’t lie to herself. She knew why she’d chosen that dress. She’d wanted to prove she could look sophisticated, sexy and smart. Captivating. That Munish hadn’t preferred Saira because she was the bubblier, effervescent, fun type that she, Vishakha, immersed in her hospital and her patients, could never be.

  Even the attempt to step out of her comfort zone had backfired on her. She had left for her hotel in a huff after their date had ended early. He must have laughed out loud at her gaucheness.

  He must be close to laughing now.

  ‘What the hell do you know about me, anyway?’ she bit out. ‘It was just a dress, nothing to go toll the bell for.’

  ‘Definitely a dress which might cause bells to toll.’ His tone was low and silky. She felt her cheeks heat up. Of course he had complimented the dress, not her. Besides, she didn’t want compliments from him, remember? They probably meant nothing more than being practised seduction phrases.

  ‘As for what I know about you…’ He began to count with his thumb on his fingers. ‘You don’t drink, you get het-up easily, you’re punctilious about being stood up. Presumably you don’t have casual flings.’ His gaze ended up contemplatively on her face. ‘In fact, Daddy’s good girl from every angle.’

  She inhaled. It hurt. He couldn’t have known it. But it did.

  ‘Yeah, I’m a really good girl.’ She had no idea how to deal with the hollow sensation his comment left her with. She blinked sudden stupid tears away. That was what she was. A good girl. Not smart, beautiful, sizzling or funny. Not even able to hold on to her own fiancé.

  God! She wished she would stop being so pathetic. In another moment he would catch on to her dipped mood.

  ‘Did I touch a nerve?’

  There it was, a softly voiced question that was more difficult to answer than the toughest quiz she had faced in her medical career.

  ‘Let me guess,’ he said softly. ‘Boyfriend trouble? You wanted to show him, prove something, maybe, but went in way over your head?’

  Well, he was close, though probably not the way he thought. ‘Fiancé trouble,’ she confessed reluctantly. Avoiding it would only make it seem more important. She tried to be casual, though how could she be casual about a broken engagement? ‘My sister ran off with my fiancé and they’re getting married this week.’ She sounded like a parrot, mouthing the words. But their sting couldn’t be avoided. Gathering courage, she met his gaze. ‘I didn’t mean to attend the event that night, even though I won the competition. It’s just that I needed a break, any break. Then, when you backed off from going on the date with me because you were running so late, it seemed like…like I was being sidelined again.’ Her voice became strained and she stopped, biting her lip.

  A small silence fell. With an effort, she continued. ‘That’s why I pressed you to go out with me regardless. I was afraid of feeling like a dud if I came back home without having that time with you. Stupid, I know, but there it is.’

  ‘Not stupid. Sensitive, maybe, but in the circumstances…’ He left it unfinished. ‘That explains a lot. I did want some answers about why you acted that way.’

  She dredged up a smile. ‘Well, now you have them.’

  ‘I’m sorry about your engagement. Any girl would take that hard.’

  ‘It isn’t easy to take everyone’s pity.’ The admission seemed to break from her suddenly. ‘I never thought I wouldn’t want to attend Saira’s wedding, but…’ With an effort, she collected herself, forcing a shrug. ‘It’s not as if it’s just a social obligation one can get out of. I might hate what she did but she’s still my sister.’ Despite herself, her voice stretched over the last words, almost breaking.

  ‘After what she’s done, you’ll still go to her wedding?’

  ‘I haven’t much choice.’ She shouldn’t share this with him but emotions too long bottled up finally spilled out. ‘She’s family. No matter how angry I feel inside I have to show I stand by her.’ Guilt assailed her at confiding this to an almost stranger.

  In her thoughts she’d rant at Saira. Demand explanations. Refuse to forgive her. But every morning reason reasserted itself and she told herself she shouldn’t feel like this. Saira—well, Saira had always been given what she wanted. Vishakha had always lived her life on that principle.

  So had the whole family.

  She quickly dismissed the disloyal thought. Saira was her baby sister. How could she begrudge her happiness? It was just unfortunate it had come at the cost of her own dreams.

  Saira wasn’t a bubbling five-year-old any longer, another mental voice pointed out. And the truth was, she had to have known what she was doing when she’d overstepped the boundaries with Munish.

  ‘Don’t just keep on feeling angry about it. Do something.’ The command startled her.

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Something to show her.’ The comment caught her attention. ‘The best revenge of all is to live well,’ he quoted softly.

  ‘Meaning?’

  His eyes held a sudden gleam. ‘Meaning that instead of sitting moping around like the ditched ex-fiancée, you could show off the new man in your life and let them know you’re more than all right.’

  She laughed. ‘What man would I show them?’

  He said, ‘Well, for instance, there’s me.’

  She stared at him. If he was joking, he was carrying this a bit far. The idea! Why was he suggesting something so totally unthinkable as to be absurd? And why was her stupid heart beating so fast at his dumb proposal?

  ‘But why? Why would you come to my sister’s wedding?’ God, that sounded so much as if he was some demigod, so she added, ‘Why would I take you?’

  ‘To impress your ex-fiancé and sister. Hold me like a trophy, and say, “Here’s what I have, you losers! So stop being so smug.” You would be my girlfriend, of course.’

  ‘Wow!’ she breathed, batting her eyelashes once more in an exaggerated fashion. ‘That would be really something, wouldn’t it?’

  Zaheer grinned, totally unconcerned at her small dig. ‘Don’t try it. Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, babe.’

  ‘Then take a reality check, Mr Saxena,’ she flared. God, he was so, so complacent. So egotistically sure she’d just melt at his grandiose offer. ‘My family is very conventional; they are all about old values. No one will be impressed by my bringing home an actor. Moreover an actor with the sort of reputation you have. They’d be more likely to hang me than hug me.’ She could imagine her Papa giving her an eye-bulging hyperthyroid look with blood vessels popping. Zaheer was notorious for his two-minute-noodles type affairs. That she was another one on that growing-like-a-rabbit-tooth list would be enough to ca
use a scandal in her house and the entire neighbourhood. So much for his bright ideas!

  ‘But you’d be able to get back at your sister and ex-fiancé,’ he said persuasively. ‘And don’t say you don’t want revenge. Believe me, you don’t want to be a doormat.’ He seemed to feel quite strongly about it.

  ‘What would you get out of it?’ she was moved to ask.

  ‘Something worthwhile.’

  Disbelief caused her to half-gasp, ‘If you mean—’

  ‘Tut tut, what a dirty mind you have, Vishakha.’ A twinkle danced in his eyes for a moment. ‘I’m not open to you dumping another load of ice all over me, thanks.’

  Her eyes met his, guilty for a second as she remembered showering him with ice cubes. Then she caught the glint in his eye and gave him a sheepish smile. A smile that widened and then grew into a fit of giggles. ‘Oh well, that was a bit much, wasn’t it? But so were you.’

  * * *

  He liked the way the twinkle lightened her eyes, giving her an impish look, like the small girl in the yard who had filled both her fists with the sweets he had offered her.

  Something about Vishakha was drawing him in—those big eyes, her fragile air—as though he was being reeled in like a fish.

  Those trembling lips and the way she’d fought back genuine tears as she’d told him what had happened to upset her made his fists clench. He found himself mentally cursing people he’d never met in his life.

  Maybe it was her vulnerability. He could relate to a woman’s angst. Inexorably he was reminded of his mother. What was Vishakha but another female trying too hard to please someone? Crying over someone who didn’t give a damn. And like he’d been protective of his mother, the same tide of feeling had risen inside him, making him react on an instinctive level to save her embarrassment. He wanted to make her smile somehow, let her guard down.