- Home
- Summerita Rhayne
Last Man She'd Love Page 4
Last Man She'd Love Read online
Page 4
‘By reining in your overactive imagination?’ Lyna said somewhat tartly. ‘Sorry, but it’s hard to picture you as a knight in shining armor.’
‘Yeah, I know, too blatant,’ he agreed gamely. ‘I think matt is more my thing. Probably black chrome would be a good look.’
She gazed at him, chin propped in her hand, an expression of rapt admiration in her eyes. ‘You’re really unbelievable.’
‘Not at all, my lady, I aim to please.’
She suppressed the giggle struggling in her throat. The velvety texture of his voice would make any female succumb to him, she reflected.
‘So, what exactly do you want me to do?’
That was the good thing about Guy. He was great on the pickup. You didn’t have to explain to him –
‘Apart from kissing you breathless,’ he drawled.
Her mouth – at the verge of relaxing in approval – tightened ominously.
But Guy being Guy, he would have to be ignored.
‘Just to clear the air,’ she said, ‘I want it on the record that I want that least of all.’ Then before he could go into some other tactic and have them sidetracked, she said quickly, ‘If Brijesh is engaged to me, he’d of course feel bound to refuse Meghna. So, I have to break off this engagement. Here’s the plan. Tomorrow is the shindig at Pinkanwalas…it’s their anniversary…so while we’re there, you’re to make overtures towards me. And I would show myself to be willing and hopefully Brijesh would get the message.’
She checked to see if he was listening.
‘There isn’t really any need to take that roundabout way to tell me you have a pash for me, darling.’
She stared daggers at him and he held up his hands and conceded, ‘Okay! I can’t somehow see him inviting me to a duel, but if it pleases you, I’ll make ‘overtures’. Er, what sort of overtures am I supposed to make?’
‘I don’t believe you need lessons from me in flirting,’ she said waspishly.
‘Anyone would be offended at your insinuation, but seeing as you’re on a mission to improve the world, I’ll let it go.’ He glanced at his watch, and she wondered with mild surprise, did it even give time? He got up and flexed his muscles. ‘If I’m to get ready to play the shoplifter…I mean…pilferer of beauty, I’ll have to leave early to get my make up on.’
‘The party’s tomorrow,’ she said in exasperation.
‘Well, army troops don’t wait till tomorrow to be prepared, so why should lover boy?’ On which rather long-winded statement he went out of her office, leaving her making another eye roll. Though right after that, what should make her giggle was anybody’s guess.
A cloud descended eventually on her brow and she sat, biting the back of her pen. She was still biting it when Sanjay opened the door to the office and said, ‘You look too busy to go to lunch. Should I order from PizzaCamp?’
At times his inquisitiveness annoyed her, but today she didn’t react. She shook her head, no.
CHAPTER SIX
Guy called her in the evening. ‘I forgot to tell you. I have a precondition if I want to take you as my date.’
‘I won’t be your date,’ she reminded him. ‘We’ll just pretend to be somewhat attracted to each other for a few minutes.’
‘Whatever. I have to think of my image and if you imagine I’m going to go brainsick over a high neck top and suit, you’re much mistaken. Buy yourself a dress. Put it on the company’s tab if you like.’
‘I’m quite capable of paying for my dress myself.’
‘Yeah, I thought so too, going by the amount we wire to your bank every month. I was only being gallant – isn’t that the word?’
‘I feel no surprise that you don’t know it properly,’ she said dampeningly.
‘It’s surprising how the phone hasn’t frozen up yet, while my ear is covered in icicles.’
He rang off before she could find a suitable comeback.
The Pinkanwalas lived in an 11-bedroom mansion in Versova. Having retired from the film industry after playing a celebrated villain role in any number of films, Mr. Pinkanwala was now dabbling in film and TV production while his wife, known for her fabulous parties, was a Bollywood trendsetter of sorts. No one could doubt which anniversary they were celebrating because from the parallel twin marble pillars highlighted in a spiral blaze of lights, to the large white glowing balloons strung from the weirdly branching banyan in their garden, the number 11 shone out everywhere and in case you had missed it, giant gold bordered red ribbons floating in the swimming pool were a constant reminder.
The party, like others of the diminutive but energetic hostess, already looked to be a success. Lyna stepped out of Brijesh’s limo to the sound of the latest rocking music number and the sight of a glamorous crowd spilling out on the well-lit lawns, clustering around beer kegs placed for snacks tables. After greetings and wishes were exchanged, she was handed a drink and given a Chinese lantern and told to be ready. A huge fanfare followed and to the blare of what was apparently ‘their’ song, what looked like a thousand lanterns were released into the sky.
‘They look like yellow stars,’ she remarked to Brijesh, watching them ascend and fill the sky.
‘Balloons would have been less costly and easier to handle,’ he opined, always the businessman.
She murmured something suitable, and suddenly found herself wondering if Guy could have twisted even this remark of hers to give another connotation and chuckled aloud, causing Brijesh to misunderstand and think she was appreciating his comment and inadvertently having him join in her humor, with his silent but rather cumbersome laugh which caused his whole frame, with its ample girth, to shake.
Despite being eligible in respect of being good-looking and coming from a filthy rich background, Brijesh had a shy nature where women were concerned. His first wife, it was rumored, had left him for a more exciting film star and he’d never looked around for a fling or anything of that nature. This rather predisposed Lyna in his favor because she wasn’t attracted to him and didn’t think she could handle – to put it in an old-fashioned way – an amorous husband.
They ran into a number of acquaintances, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries like deploring the new tax plans, international governance and the state of Indian cricket team. The woman next to her told her that her dress looked great and cited several reasons why she herself couldn’t wear a flared skirt with an asymmetrical hemline or a short sleeveless bodice, with a shoulder piece, forgetting that Lyna had never asked her this weighty question.
‘I’m size D, such a slim bodice wouldn’t suit me at all –’
‘Oh, are you sure? She’s D and she looks fine, doesn’t she?’ Guy’s familiar deep voice with its characteristic languid undertone broke in.
Here he was! Lyna whirled around to catch sight of his mocking half smile. He looked every inch the quintessential bad boy. Their costume designer might have dressed him up just this way to feature him as the wealthy, disrespectful, but all too desirable, scruffy heart breaker, who had all the women around him going weak at the knees. He wore a leather waistcoat – which was madly fashionable just then, despite the heat – over a dress shirt and slim pants. She rather liked the three-day unshaven look, much preferable to the beard supported by too many gentlemen these days.
The woman beside her darted him a look that began as offended and ended as intrigued. Someone called her and rather reluctantly, she mumbled something under her breath and hurried away.
Lyna shook her head at him, casting her eyes heavenward. ‘Is that any way to behave when two ladies are having some womanly conversation?’
‘She’d have kept badgering you no end if I hadn’t interfered. Then how would we have put our plan to action? Btw, are you a D? I’d be crushed to know I have misled her.’
He earned a glare from her and said contritely, ‘Much as I deserve it, I would rather you drink the wine and not throw it in my face.’
She looked at him, rather suspicious of that contriteness and compl
ied, more because wine would help her deal with him better than any desire to do what he said.
‘Thank you.’ He took the glass from her and placed it on the nearby keg, serving as a side table. ‘I must say, my pulse is bounding way too fast.’ He closed one hand around his wrist as though holding it, while surveying her with approval warming his gaze. ‘Wow! When you clean up, you clean up good. I think you might give Brijesh second thoughts about the break up when he gets around to it.’
Torn between exasperation and amusement, she found her voice, ignoring the compliment which was so exaggerated, it might be his brand of humor than any sincere praise for her looks. ‘Don’t be silly. He has to have some pride.’
‘Cream suits you. I’m tempted to lay down my cloak for you to step on, pretty princess.’ He took a step closer. ‘If I had one, I mean.’
‘Wait,’ she said to hold him off. ‘Brijesh is coming.’
‘That’s the idea, isn’t it? We’ll head towards the buffet and leave him wondering where you are.’
They began to roam along the long tables spread out with assortment of fresh fruits, different styles of salads and Indian and continental dishes.
‘He’s looking for me.’ She cast a look back.
‘Pretend not to see him.’
‘Why are we whispering?’
‘It makes me feel like Bond. How about you?’ She giggled, and choked a little, suppressing it.
Guy tut-tutted. ‘Don’t hold it back, dear. How many times should I tell you? Let your laugh be a hearty one.’ He raised a hand in a wave and said over her head, ‘Oh hi Talwar! How are you doing, man? Lyna is growing so thin, I was just taking care she should have her dinner properly. Don’t worry, I’ll bring her back to you when she’s finished. Meanwhile, feel free to do justice to the spread.’
This time she had to find a keg island to put down her plate while she gave in to a fit of giggles, presenting her back to him as she strove to control herself.
‘Why doesn’t anyone catch you out when you say these outrageous things in that lofty way,’ she demanded, when she was finally able to face him.
He shrugged. ‘Lofty? What lofty? You’re too suspicious. They can feel my sincerity.’
Vile man! Not a twitch betrayed him into a smile, though she stared fixedly at him, willing his control to break down. He just stared as fixedly back. Finally, she gave up and concentrated on curried prawn and baked vegetables.
She ate in relative quietness and he fetched her dessert.
He waited a beat, then said, ‘You might express a little gratitude while you have the chance.’
Her mouth twitched, but she said, ‘For tonight? Let’s face it, you’re only going along to make me stay with you.’
‘Ah, how deliciously forthright you are, darling.’ His tone instantly slid into its mocking octave. ‘Definitely would like you to stay with me.’
For some reason, she could feel heat rising around her throat and working its way upwards. ‘I meant at work,’ she said through gritted teeth.
‘At work,’ he concurred. There was a pause, then he said, the mockery fading from his voice, ‘It was a sudden decision on your part. You have had time to think now.’
She waited for him to speak, her hand tightening a little on her dessert spoon. Was Guy of all people asking her to reconsider what she was doing? Why would he?
‘Still of the same mind?’ he said, an eyebrow slanting in query, his dark eyes for once serious.
‘What else can I do? I can’t go ahead and be making marriage plans with Brijesh while he’s getting ready to get a DNA test done.’
‘Most women would go for the test before heading towards a broken engagement. Hasn’t it crossed your mind to have a talk with your fiancé first? He might have something to say about it.’
‘I think she was telling the truth. I feel I’m doing the right thing.’
‘I had no idea you were such a champion of the female cause. The kind I know prefer to feather their own nest first.’
She said, ‘I was thinking more of the child than of the mother.’
He gave her a meditative look, much like he might give a sheet of profits where figures didn’t match up. His sensuous full lips were thinned. She wondered what had she done to annoy him.
Before she could ask him though, his face relaxed. They had made their way out to the lawn where a dance floor had been set up under the partial covering of banyan tree branches. Brijesh followed them, still holding a loaded plate. Guy nodded to the flashing laser lights which swept the platform with the beat of the music.
‘Let’s dance.’
She looked as though she’d swallowed a frog. ‘Dance? I don’t dance.’
‘Everyone dances,’ he said, smiling down at her in blissful ignorance.
‘I don’t. I have three left feet, not even the proverbial two.’ She grimaced.
‘Doesn’t matter. I’ll lead. You just follow me. We have to convince him and now’s the chance. He’s nearly eaten all four of the dessert choices.’
Left with no option, she went with him to the two feet square space left somehow unoccupied on the reverberating floor. He raised his hands and she put hers into them, feeling his warm grip close on them before he drew her near, till they were almost touching, then allowed her to move away before drawing her near again in a rhythmic step. She might have stumbled, but he caught her, then twirled her and let his hand fall to her waist. Following the now quieter beat of music, he held her close, letting their bodies sway, while their hands held fast.
Guy smiled down into her eyes – and discovered her feet were stepping on his.
‘How am I doing?’ she asked anxiously.
‘Great,’ he smiled. Not by a flicker conveying the state of his badly suffering toes.
The music grew warm and romantic. Quite a few left the floor. Others snuggled closer to their partners. There was something in the power of echoing notes. He felt a soft sigh leave Lyna. Against his will, the hand which held her waist tightened a little. He heard her slight intake of breath and an age-old excitement slowly grew and began to rush in his veins. She felt soft, almost tremulous in his arms. Her gaze met his, her chin tilting up as she looked into his eyes. A challenge sparkling in her eyes kindled an answering determination which surged through him like a hunter’s adrenaline kick. He knew she was meeting him halfway. The dangerous flicker that was beneath the surface looked like breaking through the barrier of official formality between them. For some reason, sanity held him back and he desisted and broke the eye lock. It wasn’t the same with her as with all the rest. Couldn’t be. He knew the rules and the set up with the kind of women he dated. With her, he wasn’t quite sure. He didn’t like the feeling.
It wasn’t a good idea to dance with her.
His body didn’t think so. His arm wanted to pull her closer, his lower body to lean into her, his other hand to hold her head when she arched her neck as his mouth fulfilled its need to kiss her.
To kiss her. His gaze had dropped down to the wet sheen of her lips. He became conscious his heart was thudding unnaturally.
‘Is he looking?’ she asked in a husky whisper against his shoulder.
Pulled back to reality, his mind trudged to the present. ‘No.’
‘Is he reacting at all?’
With her face towards him, she couldn’t see Brijesh. Guy dragged his gaze from her softly flushed face to find the rotund figure. ‘He’s moving. To get a beetroot cigar they are serving in a mint dip.’
‘For God’s sake, is that all he can think about all the time? Food? We’ll just have to try harder.’
A vision of propping her against the wall in a secluded corner of the house stole into his mind.
‘Are you listening, Guy?’
‘Sure. We’ll have to try harder,’ he repeated obligingly. ‘You mean here?’
She shot him blue daggers. ‘Do you want to dance on the grass?’
Her body might be all tremulous, but her tongue was the sa
me as ever.
He chuckled.
The next moment, his breath was knocked out as she flung her arms around his neck. His hands automatically came to rest at her waist. It felt slender yet taut. Her perfume was all over him, filling his head with essence of wild flowers. The tips of her breasts brushed against his chest. He gave in to the inevitable and let his arms gather her close. Was that a tremor that ran through her? He dragged air into his lungs.
‘Is he coming over yet?’ Her voice was low.
‘No. Told you he doesn’t have an ounce of red blood.’
‘Let’s try more.’
‘Ok,’ he said gamely. Looked like it was out of his hands. He tilted her chin up and kissed her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
She would have stepped out of his embrace like a scalded cat, but his arms held her fast.
She glowered at him. ‘What was that for?’
‘Partly taking advantage of situation and partly…you told me to hike it up. How else would I? We were plastered enough as it was. Anymore, and we’d have needed to undress.’
Her lips moved as though she was lip syncing some choice epithets. Her eyes blazed like blue torches. ‘You know very well I didn’t mean for you to kiss me! That too in public. Will you stop dancing? What about Brijesh? Where is he now?’
‘My love, after that kiss you want to hanker after Brijesh?’ He relaxed his hold very slowly, allowing her to move out of his arms.
‘You know what I mean. Well? Is he coming towards us?’
He glanced over at the irresponsive about-to-be-her-ex. He whistled soundlessly. ‘He’s ignored us. Chatting to a plump lady. By God, he’s a cold fish, if you can find one.’
‘Glad you think he’s like me.’
‘What? Oh, you mean… Have I ever called you cold? I take back my words. You are not cold at all.’
There was something in his eyes she would rather not face. She felt off balance and slightly dizzy. Must be the effect of the rounds she’d taken with him. Her arms felt odd too. Must be strained from resting on his shoulders, so hard and muscly. The back of her hands had actually brushed against his hair, the texture strangely soft. She rubbed them unconsciously. She wished she hadn’t been that close to him. Her body… her mouth... No, she wouldn’t think about the touch of his lips against hers.