Bollywood Fiancé for a Day Page 9

  Vishakha froze in shock. At his audacity. And her own. Because, despite everything, she was giving in to that surge of curiosity. That dangerous desire to know what would happen if she gave in to the feelings he evoked just being there. To taste again the brief glimpse of passion. That whorl of excitement she could even now feel uncurling inside.

  Dammit, she had been taken unawares the last time. She couldn’t want him to kiss her again.

  She didn’t want him to.

  She did.

  The world shrank to just him, those lips, sensuous and warm, capturing hers. Sending sudden heat spilling along her nerves. Pounding in her veins. Every muscle tightened and her arms flexed to hold him closer. His hands moved to spread over her back and sparks raced over her skin.

  An arc of current went zinging through her system. Her eyes closed automatically and she finally gave in to the sensation. His lips were warm and velvety, his body contact transferring heat to hers. Reality went spinning out of her grasp, her senses soaked in the excitement he had triggered. His mouth slid against hers, parting and closing in, each contact deepening the surge of passion till she was drowning helplessly in desire. Her hands bunched into the silk he wore and she wanted only to hold onto him, to have him go on kissing her for ever, aware only of the sensations he was igniting deep inside her. The world hazed as she focused only on following his lead, receiving what he’d deluged her with.

  Abruptly he broke the contact, his gaze finding hers in the split second before rude reality intruded. She saw his eyes dark with feeling but, before she could identify what it was, he’d backed off completely.

  His eyebrows drew together. ‘I don’t like to kiss lipstick,’ he informed her, taking a tissue from the nearby holder and wiping it across his mouth.

  Hurt slashed into her at the abrupt gesture. And anger. Just who did he think he was?

  ‘I don’t like to kiss inflated egos,’ she shot back and took another tissue and wiped it across her lips, her action immediate and instinctive.

  The small gesture felt good. But in a place deep inside her she was all too aware of how she’d betrayed her need to experience that kiss. Her desire for him, even though he’d hurt her just now, was an alien sensation still sweeping through her. Alien, but achingly sweet. A raw recognition of what he could make her feel. It sent a shockwave through her that she wanted to instinctively resist because it indicated a growing vulnerability—vulnerability to him—that was impossible for her to accept.

  Then while she scowled fiercely across at him, challenging his rejection, she saw his mouth twist in a rueful smile.

  ‘But God, I have to hand it to you.’ He leaned back and considered her. Man in control now. Not the briefly glimpsed passion ridden stranger. ‘You sure can kiss!’

  She could? It wasn’t as though she had had much practice. Besides a few sloppy ones indulged in the giddy high of her graduation night, she’d just kissed Munish. And kissing Munish…well, she might as well have saved herself the bother. Of course then she hadn’t known it could be like this!

  She could feel his eyes on her. She considered him too. Surreptitiously, when his gaze veered from hers. Pondering on the quality of that kiss. Surely what she had felt was way out of proportion to what had actually happened? It must be something to do with the energy fluctuations in the car. Or the excitement from being at her own ring ceremony spilling over.

  Or maybe…she tried to be honest in her analysis…maybe she’d just been curious to know what it was like to kiss a celebrity. Got hung up on the buzz of it. Yes, that was plausible. Not particularly savoury. But certainly more digestible than the thought that she could actually be attracted to this man for real.

  Damage control. That was what she needed. Instead of gazing at him like a moonstruck teenager, she needed to show him she wasn’t as affected as…Well, as she felt.

  ‘I’m warning you, this is the last time you cross the line.’ That sounded sufficiently stalwart.

  ‘Once can be a mistake, the second only deliberate perjury.’ His mouth twisted even as a devilish glint lit in his eyes.

  ‘Then why did you do it?’ she flared. ‘You broke your promise.’

  He shrugged. ‘You broke it first. You forgot to say no.’

  * * *

  As was often done after the ring ceremony, every small detail was dissected and discussed by all the participants. Then the photos came and naturally had to be pored over. She was supposed to have said goodbye to Zaheer ages ago. But relatives wouldn’t let go of him and her parents were busy getting to know his aunt. His mother’s younger brother also seemed in no hurry to leave.

  When they finally made noises about leaving, she signalled Zaheer to meet her outside.

  ‘Your CCTV relatives are looking out everywhere to keep up under surveillance,’ he told her in a low voice. ‘Let’s go out the back.’

  ‘Your aunt gave me these.’ Safely in the porch, lit only by moonlight, she held out two heavy gold bangles. ‘As shagun.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So, don’t be dense. I can’t keep them. It’s bad enough keeping this.’ She held out her hand, light falling on her ring, the large sparkling diamond surrounded by a cluster of smaller diamonds that winked and dazzled in turn. ‘Thanks for the beautiful ring by the way. I know this is a necessary part, but—’

  ‘They are a necessary part too. Don’t be silly. We have to keep it as real as possible. It would look funny if someone asked to see and you didn’t have them.’

  He was right about that. She subsided, not comfortable but not wanting to argue either. The question that had been lingering at the back of her mind came to her again. ‘Did you have any problem getting your parents’ approval? Considering they haven’t even seen me yet.’

  ‘I’m not the traditional dutiful son, sweetheart. They don’t expect too much from me.’

  ‘But even if they couldn’t make it here, at least you could have introduced me to them over the phone. Or by video call. Wouldn’t they at least want that?’

  A quick frown drew his eyebrows together, his features tightening in displeasure. ‘Why are you so bothered? Just remember it’s a pretend engagement. Convenient to you and to me. You don’t need to meet my parents.’ There was a definite edge she hadn’t heard in his tone before. His features looked even more chiselled as his facial muscles became tight with sudden tension.

  ‘Have you even told them? You haven’t, have you?’ she concluded suddenly. ‘What about when they hear the truth?’

  His hands rolled into fists in an instinctive defensive manoeuvre at her verbal attack. Truth? He hadn’t wanted his father here. That was the truth. What would Vishakha say if she knew his parents had landed at Mumbai this very evening? He’d withheld the fact even from his mama and mami. As for his mum…Damn it, he should have told his mum, but he’d curbed the impulse because, like the dutiful wife she was, she’d be sure to pass on the news to his father. He breathed in deeply. When the time was appropriate, he’d tell her. It wasn’t as though this was real. He could do without the hollow feeling in his gut that being with his parents always brought on. His mother trying hard to behave as though they were a family, his father not trying at all. Scattered and disjointed, because wasn’t the truth that they weren’t a real family at all?

  Hell, he was a grown man. It was past the time he put all that behind him. The best way was to pull the door closed.

  ‘What if they hear of your engagement from some other source, won’t they feel hurt you didn’t tell them?’

  ‘I believe this is the floor you get off, sweetheart.’ The words were phrased lightly but he felt the anger tightening his throat. Mostly because she was right. His mum…he should’ve told his mum about the ring ceremony.

  He realized his fists were clenched tight and he made himself loosen them. To prove that he had his control back, he drawled, ‘You are a fine one to talk of truth.’

  Her expression showed she’d got his meaning. ‘I know I’m not being ho
nest with my own parents but that’s because…because I can’t.’ She gestured helplessly. ‘They love me and I shouldn’t be deceiving them, but…It’s difficult to explain. You must have gathered by now, Saira is actually my stepsister since my mom married her dad. Mom has always been afraid of appearing partial to me. She constantly shows that her preference is towards Saira, so she won’t feel ignored. But, since my engagement ended the way it did, she’s been so worried about me. If I tell her I’m just pretending to be engaged to you, she’ll be sure to have an anxiety attack.’ She turned to him, chin lifting resolutely as she faced him. ‘But keep something as big as an engagement from them, even if it’s a fake one? I love them too much to do that and they know that about me.’

  Somehow the simple sincere words sent an angry heat shooting along his nerves. I love them—the straightforward proclamation was something he could never utter with calm simplicity or with a clear gaze like hers. Something snapped inside, causing him to blurt, ‘Do they? Do they also know about the poor little left-on-the-shelf girl that lives inside of you?’

  He saw the stunned expression on her face, knew he’d stepped over the line. Flown way over it, to hit her at her most tender point.

  ‘Thanks for reminding me,’ she whispered, her voice trembling.

  Her words cut him, gut-deep like a stabbing wound. She was right in saying her parents knew what was happening in her life. Her father, who wasn’t even her biological father, being protective to the extent that he’d thoroughly grilled Zaheer about his suitability for her. God, she didn’t have her real father and he envied her that? You couldn’t be crasser if you tried, Saxena.

  Somehow her words had sliced through to some deeply buried secret spot that made him strike back before he knew what he was about.

  Hell, was he going to cry about his bad daddy like a kid? After all these years, surely he knew better.

  He’d unnecessarily hurt Vishakha, though, turning on her like a wounded tiger whose tail had been stepped on.

  He had thought he could lighten the baggage she carried, help her, because he’d fought free of all he had carried himself. But some of it obviously still hung around. Had hung around so long he had become unaware he was still carrying it.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  To PEOPLE FAMILIAR with him, he was the product of a rich, well-established family. No one knew the lack of real warmth in his family and that was the way it was going to stay.

  How could he tell her he was estranged from his parents? An only son, yet he didn’t live with them as per the Indian tradition. Far from it, he didn’t even meet with them unless a special occasion came along. His mother came round occasionally when he was home. He hadn’t seen his father at all during the last six years.

  To tell her all that when no one else knew about it. Not done.

  But instinct still made him reach out when she whirled round to rush past him. He caught her wrist.

  ‘Let me go,’ she demanded in a furious whisper.

  ‘No.’ That sounded more commanding than apologetic and he winced at the red tide of emotion that swept across her face.

  ‘I—you…’ She struggled to find the words.

  He saw the shimmer of tears in her eyes and a curse ripped from his mouth. ‘God, I’m sorry, Visha!’

  Zaheer took her hand in his, the ring pressing into his palm. He hadn’t given a ring to any woman and he’d hurt the one he’d finally given it to. While their engagement might be in name only, he didn’t want them to be distanced from each other. She’d trusted him when she had confided in him and allowed him to help her. He didn’t want to break that trust, to think that in his haste he already might have.

  ‘Could you try forgiving me?’ It wasn’t easy to ask. The guilt stabbing him told him he’d finally gone too far.

  ‘You think?’ She turned away and he cursed again to think he’d made her cry. When the express purpose of his being here was to keep her chin up. Her pride intact.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking. Mentally you must be putting me in the same bracket as your fiancé and sister. Thinking everyone tries to hurt you. But that’s absolutely the wrong way to think. You’re becoming too much of a martyr because of your sister—’

  ‘And you’re really helping me to stand up for myself? Thanks!’

  He was making a total mess of it. He sighed and resisted the urge to rake his hair.

  ‘It’s not you, Vishakha. It’s me. I lashed out at you because—’ he took a deep breath ‘—you hit somewhere that was already tender. My parents, or really my father, is a sore point with me.’ He shrugged. ‘We’ve never got along. He’s always been too full of himself to even acknowledge what I am. We are in contact only through my mum. That’s why I didn’t tell him—them—about the engagement.’

  She stilled and stood in silence. He led her over to the steps, sitting down there with her.

  ‘It’s no excuse, but it’s the only one I can offer. My father had just one way of communicating and that was through slaps. He used to hit me and every time he did I’d run away. And then I started having nothing to do with him.’ This was more than he’d let on to anyone.

  She gasped. ‘Gosh, I’m sorry, Zaheer. I had no right to blame you for not telling them about us without knowing the whole story.’

  He exhaled. ‘Don’t feel sorry. It’s not your fault my family’s like this.’

  ‘You must have had a terrible childhood.’

  ‘Maybe. Then again, maybe not. I had all the things money could provide. When you consider how many kids in the city don’t have even their basic needs met, that accounts for a lot. What bothered me was why he treated me like that. For some reason, he’s always hated me. Maybe because I was a symbol of his getting tied down in a marriage he didn’t want.’ The words came almost automatically. Not polished or well thought out, just random thoughts coalescing. ‘My mum was an orphaned distant relative of dadi and when Granny was ill, close to dying, she made my father promise to marry Mum. He is a retired colonel, as rigid in his bearing as he ever was in duty. Being over forty when he got married, he was probably too set in his ways to adjust. Hell, that sounds as though I’m defending him.’ He thrust a hand through his hair. ‘My mother had only her younger brother for family then, also a dependent, and I think she’s still buried under the gratitude that Dad married her. He treats her little better than a helper. She’s always kept running around him and giving in to his rigid ways of wanting things done. But he never lets her have a say in the house. She always makes efforts to please him. He tried to treat me the same but since an early age I rebelled.’ He grimaced. ‘Perhaps there’s more of him in me than he guessed. Hence the beatings. I used to run away from home then come back in the evening. Then, one day, I left for good.’

  ‘You didn’t?’

  She sounded shocked and no wonder. With her close-knit family, it would make scant sense. ‘He forbade my mother to contact me. Before I went away, I swore to Mum I would take her out of there.’ He paused. Like a dam burst open, the facts had tumbled out, one after the other. He didn’t need to tell her all of this to explain himself for his rudeness to her. But it seemed the words weren’t yet ready to be stemmed.

  ‘And?’ Her soft nudge egged him on.

  ‘Initially I was struggling financially myself. Then, when I finally got the bucks, I did buy a place for her but she refused to leave him,’ he said, clipping the words short. The promise he’d made to his mother had haunted him every single day and night. It was a gut-deep satisfaction when he’d succeeded in buying a house larger than his father’s. But his mother’s decision had left him stymied.

  ‘So you haven’t even seen him, living in the same city…for how long?’

  He shook his head. ‘You don’t want to know. The last time my father and I were anywhere together was six years ago. The first of my action movies had been released and it was doing reasonably well. I had a bit of a get-together, a sort of thank you party for everyone who’d helped me.’ He drew
in a breath. ‘He came but didn’t speak to me. No question of congratulating me. Then, when he was leaving, he asked me when I was coming home to be trained to look over the estate. It was obvious by his words he thought nothing of my acting career. He just wouldn’t acknowledge me or what I’d achieved.’

  He’d never talked like this to anyone. He didn’t want a verdict from her, but the things that had only been felt, never said, the words locked inside and never aired, which didn’t feel as if they could have substance, saying those things was harder than he’d expected. He felt an uncomfortably tight feeling in his chest and forced himself to breathe calmly. Why did just the thought of his father have this effect on him? As if he wanted to run and run and never stop? Most days he didn’t think about his father, filling his mind with things till there was no space. Now, talking about it was causing all the clawing feelings to climb to the forefront and, like a snake charmer returning the serpent to the basket, he had to put it all back in a corner of his mind. Even as a boy, he’d suppressed it all inside. It had felt distant from his friends’ lives. When you felt what occupied you didn’t have any echo in the outside world, it became unreal. Was so much harder to bring it out or share it…

  Was better left locked up.

  A soft touch clasped his hand and, for some reason, his throat closed. He didn’t look at her. Weird. He’d come to offer her comfort, and now he was getting it from her.

  ‘He sounds awful,’ she whispered and something crumbled away inside him. A defence that had made him try to justify his father, because it hurt to admit that someone who belonged to you wasn’t all good. How long had he thought that it must be something wrong with him that was the matter, not his father.

  It wasn’t till he’d spoken out to Vishakha that he was even aware of it. Deep inside, the germ had persisted. For months and years. And the knot had grown tighter over time. Tougher to unravel. Because it had been hard to break the code of loyalty he’d always held sacred. He and his mother both. Because, even among themselves, they didn’t discuss his father. An unwritten rule.