‘I’m sorry for losing control like this,’ she said haltingly, pulling away, agonised that it had to be Vikram who had witnessed her loss of control. He was the last person she wanted to bare her emotions to.
Face grim and hard, Vikram let her pull away. This was the second time he had held her in his arms. It had been torture. His body had been submerged by waves of sizzling awareness. The feel of her soft ripe breasts against his chest had set off unwanted sensations inside him and he had been tempted to crush her close.
He wondered why holding her nestled in his arms had felt so right and why now that she had pulled away did he suddenly feel bereft. The next moment he furiously berated himself for succumbing to her lure and letting her get under his skin.
She was adept at affecting people by batting her huge eyes and shedding crocodile tears. Just like her notorious actress mother! He, too, it seemed, wasn’t immune to her appeal. His rage returned. He sat up straight, angry with himself, all softness gone and a forbidding expression in place.
‘You are wasted as a lawyer. You should have been an actress like your mother,’ he said cruelly.
Vikram’s harsh words were like a hard slap on her face. Gauri recoiled, almost gasping aloud in pain. He had caught her at her most vulnerable point.
She stared at him with still wet cheeks, unable to react.
Vikram stared back at her stonily, steeling himself against the effect her wet cheeks were having on him. ‘These crocodile tears are wasted on me. I’m immune to your tricks.’
Gauri bowed her head and tried to pull her tattered emotions around her. She was in no fit state to argue any more. Her storm of weeping had left her feeling weary and she felt tiredness swamping her. She wanted to lay her head back and close her eyes but she dared not give in to any more weakness in front of him.
Biting her lip, she said hesitantly, ‘Can you please take me home? We can continue our discussion tomorrow.’
‘Don’t think you can dismiss me so easily! We have matters to discuss. I have found you with great difficulty and I don’t trust you. There’s no telling when you might skip out again,’ Vikram said in a soft, chilling voice which raised goose bumps on her skin.
His eyes bored into hers relentlessly and Gauri looked away, unable to meet his implacable gaze.
‘Lie back and close your eyes. It will take us time to reach our destination,’ he said tersely.
‘I … I’ll sleep once I reach home,’ Gauri mumbled.
‘Don’t make me more angry, Gauri. Just do as I say.’
Gauri capitulated with a sigh. She knew she didn’t stand a chance in the face of Vikram’s indomitable will. And she was feeling too spent to argue any further. It was only her air of bravado that was keeping her going.
She laid her head back on the seat and closed her eyes. Despair overwhelmed her again and, despite her bout of crying, fresh tears pricked at her eyes under her closed eyelids. But she didn’t let them escape. With tremendous control she lay soundlessly, pushing away the painful memories, blocking out everything from her mind and trying to focus on her breathing as she had been taught.
She had been an emotional wreck years ago and then she had run into Meenakshi Singh, who had been her saviour and on whose insistence she had seen a counsellor. The counsellor had trained her to switch off whenever painful memories began to intrude. She had had years of practice now and had become adept at pushing away agonising emotions while continuing to function stoically.
Vikram looked at her spent form, angry at the unwanted feeling of protectiveness that surged inside him. The only people he had ever truly cared about were his mother, his childhood friend Madhav and, later on, Madhav’s father. He had always been a loner and had never formed any attachments, even as a child. He’d always maintained an emotional distance with everyone, including Madhav’s family. But, ironically, Gauri always managed to disturb his equilibrium and had ruffled his equanimity on countless occasions.
The circumstances of her birth, her sudden appearance in Madhav’s family and the resulting furore had shaped his view of her. She had been the product of a one-night stand between Madhav’s father, Maharaj Sambhaji Rao, and a desperate and greedy actress who had seen the married Maharajah as a meal ticket and who had connived to get him very drunk at a party, seduced him and then trapped him by becoming pregnant.
That the Maharajah was bound to a terminally ill wife whom he could not leave had suited Gauri’s mother perfectly—knowing the limited shelf life of an actress, she had only wanted a benefactor to fund her expensive lifestyle. After Gauri’s birth, she had pretended great love for her daughter and had actively discouraged the Maharajah from having any contact with Gauri.
She had tearfully convinced the susceptible Maharajah that she didn’t want their daughter growing up ashamed of her illegitimate birth. The Maharajah had acquiesced and had retreated to the background. The astronomical sums of money she was given every month for Gauri’s upkeep were spent on leading a lavish, hedonistic lifestyle.
When Gauri turned five, Maharaj’s wife had died and, ironically, so had Gauri’s mother in an accident. Maharaj finally brought Gauri home.
Madhav had welcomed his chhoti bahen—younger sister—whom he lovingly called chhoti with open arms but the issue of her illegitimacy and her mother’s notorious reputation had filled Vikram with dislike.
As a child, she had been jealous of Vikram’s bond with her brother and would either ignore him or behave in a prickly manner. In turn, her doglike devotion to Madhav would irritate Vikram intensely and he had frequently been forced to hold his tongue, swallowing the scathing words springing to his lips in order not to upset Madhav.
And then, overnight, Gauri had grown up.
He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it had happened, but he’d started to realise that his breath often caught at the sight of her.
She had suddenly blossomed into a beauty and had wreaked havoc on his hormones. His senses would thrum with awareness at the sound of her light step and the blood in his veins would quicken at the sight of her long braid swinging against her hips as she turned and left a room. The disturbing effect she had on him had knocked him off balance and made him angry and he had often resorted to cold sarcasm in her presence.
With hindsight he recalled that they both had rubbed each other the wrong way right from the beginning.
He looked at her, wondering why she had the capacity to ruffle his unflappable calm and arouse disturbing feelings inside him, especially when he knew her true nature. The sedative worked and after a few minutes Gauri slid into a deep slumber.
Suddenly Vikram realised that Gauri hadn’t applied the ointment that the doctor had given her. He hesitated, unwilling to touch her again and uncertain about waking her up. Finally, aware that the doctor’s orders had to be followed, he applied the ointment on the swelling on her forehead. Her skin was like soft satin and his fingers tingled as he rubbed gently.
Gauri murmured something sleepily but didn’t awaken. He looked at her face.
The moonlight glinted on her face, highlighting the perfect symmetry of her features and her flawless luminescent skin. She had inherited her heart-stopping beauty from her actress mother, who had been an acclaimed beauty and had graced the covers of many magazines.
Gauri, too, had received a couple of acting offers while still in school, which her father, the Maharaj, had peremptorily turned down.
Vikram gazed at her heart-shaped face and sharp patrician nose, which always used to be adorned by a tiny gold nose pin. The nose pin was no longer there. But her lips were perfect as ever. They glistened invitingly in the moonlight.
A deeply buried memory of the kiss that they had shared almost six years back surfaced.
It had been during