The Indian Tycoon's Marriage Deal

by Adite Banerjie

  There was only one way to deal with it. He stormed into the gym and put himself through an excruciating cycle of hard physical exercise that had his muscles quivering with exhaustion and dripping sweat on the hardwood floor. He was intent on punishing his body for its unruly behaviour and he wouldn’t let go till his muscles packed up or his mind stopped conjuring up the image of Maya in the pool. And yet the vision of her rising from the water like a golden goddess just wouldn’t go. He felt his body hum with energy and he forced his mind to focus on a course of action. One in which he would not let lust get the better of him.

  * * *

  At the first light of dawn it stopped raining. The trees and plants outside were shimmering with life—the dust had been washed away, leaving them clean and sparkling green, the raindrops clinging like pearls on a beautiful necklace. Maya changed into a pair of track pants and a T-shirt and headed towards the arbour that she had found near the pool. Before long, she was immersed in the work that she loved best. She discovered a multitude of plants and creepers that had revived from last night’s rain.

  Working in the garden was the only way she knew to de-stress. Even as a kid, she would douse her angst at Papa’s drunken sprees by toiling in the handkerchief-sized kitchen garden that they had back home. Of course, Papa would be full of remorse after he had recovered from his hangover and would try to win her over by promising to give up alcohol. But booze had proved to be a hard taskmaster. For every dry spell that brought hope, there would be an even more traumatic period when she would be overwhelmed by Papa’s incessant drinking. Looking back, she now recognised that they were the signs of a man who was well on the way to self-destruction—but as an adolescent she never could figure out how her easy-going, kind father could morph into an angry, raving drunk for days on end. On such days she would shed tears in the garden and gain strength from the moist soil that felt like a soothing balm.

  ‘Let me help you with that.’ Krish’s voice nearly caused her to drop the heavy pot that she’d been moving. But Krish was quicker than her and caught it just before it crashed to the ground.

  ‘Are you trying to break your bones? Or am I the target?’ Krish asked irritably.

  She had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard him come down the track. Her mind swivelled back to the present. ‘You shouldn’t be creeping around. It would be your own fault if I’d dropped it on your foot!’

  ‘You should do your gardening thing when Hari is around to help you.’

  Maya tried not to stare at the breathtaking sight of his muscle-bound torso rippling beneath the stretchy jersey he wore. Jeez! It should be declared illegal to look so disgustingly sexy in an old T-shirt and running shorts! So much for all her efforts to de-stress and take her mind off last night’s episode. Using her hair to shield her heightened colour, she turned her attention to the smaller pots. ‘Don’t worry, I can do my thing without causing you or your staff any problems.’

  Krish shrugged. ‘Sure, as you please.’

  She waited for him to leave, but he just kept watching her with those dark eyes that made her even more jumpy than ever.

  ‘Are you always this cranky in the morning?’ he asked.

  The nerve of the guy. ‘Excuse me! You’re the one who gave me the fright of my life by creeping up on me…and you call me cranky?’

  He remained unmoved by her outburst, but one eyebrow shot up. ‘Just wondering if I had something to do with your grouchiness.’

  Of course he had everything to do with it! She breathed deeply. ‘No worries. You can rest easy. If you don’t mind, I just want to get on clearing this up before it gets too hot.’

  And of course he wouldn’t take the hint—maybe she should have dropped the pot on his foot after all. It would serve his gigantic ego right!

  ‘I never thought you were the type to run away from the truth.’

  ‘I don’t know what the heck you’re talking about!’ Refusing to look at him, she cleared up some of the mud stuck to the sides of a pot with a little more force than was necessary.

  ‘Really? So why won’t you look at me?’

  She faced him. ‘The truth is that your super-fragile ego is hurt that any woman wouldn’t want to fall in bed with you the moment you set eyes on her.’

  ‘And how exactly did you arrive at this great insight? When you were in the pool…clinging to me with all your might?’

  ‘I was not! You’re the most disgusting guy I have met,’ she exclaimed angrily.

  ‘Got you!’ he said, his eyes burning with equal amounts of desire and anger. He shot out his hand and pulled her close against his chest. ‘Don’t try to fool yourself that what you felt for me last night was anything even close to disgust.’

  She was treading on water and hopelessly in danger of going into the deep end. Trying desperately not to look at his seductive lips, inches away from her own, she pushed hard at his chest with her muddy hands.

  ‘Look, we have an agreement,’ she said, trying to put some distance between them. She charged on before she lost her nerve. ‘Let’s just say that what happened yesterday shouldn’t have. We were both to blame.’ She rushed in before he could object to anything. ‘I guess we were both emotionally overwrought, what with the wedding and then the meeting with your father…So let’s just agree to forget about it, shall we?’

  Krish burst out laughing. ‘“Emotionally overwrought”! I love that! Tell me something: are you scared of making love with me?’

  Maya bristled, even as his rich, sexy laugh made her nerves tingle. His eyes skimmed over her T-shirt, which clung lovingly to her curves, and he ran one long finger gently down the side of her face, catching a loose tendril of hair. Anger or lust—she didn’t have a clue what was making her pulse race faster than a Ferrari.

  ‘I’m not going to apologise for what happened,’ he said huskily. ‘And, if “overwrought” translates into the kind of passionate kisses we shared in the pool…I’ll do overwrought any day!’

  She pulled away from his searing touch and gritted her teeth. ‘If you think that because of what happened last night you have an open invitation to my bed, you’d better kill that thought right away.’

  Krish narrowed his eyes. ‘I’d love to prove you wrong, jaaneman. But, right now, I’m on a schedule and so are you. And we need to get on the road ASAP.’

  ‘Are we going somewhere?’

  ‘Yup…Make sure you pack yourself some clothes for a four- or five-day trip in the hills. See you in thirty minutes.’

  She seethed at his arrogance. Born with a silver spoon—no, make that a golden one with the Kohinoor diamond encrusted on it!—he, no doubt, felt that everyone ought to bow and scrape to his every command! But, what was worse, he knew just how to heat up her blood with just a look or the slightest touch. And God, why did her body hunger for his touch even when she knew that was the very last thing she needed? Spending the next couple of hours in close proximity to him in the car would be sheer torture. She marched back to the cottage, trying to ignore the spark of excitement that flickered through her.

  As they drove down the highway an hour later, Maya figured it would be best to maintain a studied silence. In any case, every time they talked, he seemed to steer the conversation into dangerous territory. As she fished in her bag for her book, Krish glanced at her. ‘Still sulking, are you?’

  ‘I don’t sulk,’ she shot back and her gaze caught his cleft chin, which seemed to have dimpled a little more since the last time she had checked.

  ‘Hmm…so let’s see…you don’t sulk, and you don’t want to make love with me.’

  She gritted her teeth and pursed her lips tightly, refusing to take the bait. His eyes danced with mischief. ‘Tell me something…Is there a history to your reluctance? Like a boyfriend who ditched you? Something that put you off being intimate with a man?’

  Smiling sweetly at him, she bit out, ‘I’m happy you find me so entertaining. As for my personal history, it can be summed up in four words. None.
Of. Your. Business.’

  ‘Touché!’ He laughed as he steered the car expertly to avoid grazing against a motorcyclist that suddenly shot into their lane out of nowhere.

  ‘Seriously, I think we should stick to business. After all, that’s what our relationship is based on, isn’t it?’

  ‘Sure, so how would you describe us…do you have a term for this relationship that we are in?’

  ‘I think you have had enough fun at my expense. If you don’t mind, I would like to read my book.’ She waved the paperback at him.

  ‘Oh, come on, don’t be a spoilsport! Really, I didn’t notice how many interesting words begin with S. Sexy. Sassy. Spoilsport…’

  ‘Ha ha…’ she responded and pointedly thrust her book into her face.

  ‘No, I’m serious…Do you realise we could be the pioneers of a new kind of relationship? Married but sex is off-limits. Business partners but not quite. How about friends with benefits, do you prefer that?’

  ‘Clearly, originality is not one of your strong points. Besides, I don’t think friendship even comes into the picture,’ she said waspishly.

  ‘Hmm…maybe you’re right. Dosti is one word that doesn’t describe us.’

  ‘I’m glad we at least agree on something! Maybe we can extend that a wee bit and listen to some music,’ she said with a measure of finality.

  ‘So there’s hope for us, yet, huh? Okay, so let’s do Sangeet! Golden oldies chalega?’

  ‘You actually need my permission?’ she shot back.

  ‘I’m trying my best not to offend you!’ he protested.

  She faked a sweet smile. ‘How kind of you!’

  Krish pressed a few keys on the console and the lovely strains of the evergreen Hindi song, Jaane kahan gaye woh din, warbled out, filling her heart with an old ache.

  Krish didn’t miss the faraway look in her eyes. ‘Don’t like the song?’

  She looked away, trying to hide the emotion that she felt. ‘No, it’s fine. It used to be Papa’s favourite song.’ She laughed as she remembered. ‘It was the only Hindi song that he liked and he would sing it all the time, which would make Ma see red. She would be like, “Why don’t you learn a new song, please?” And he would go, “This is the best song ever!”’

  Krish smiled. ‘Must be tough not having them around.’

  ‘I lost my mother when I was eleven years old,’ she said softly, recalling her bewilderment when she had come back from school to find her mother gone and Ma’s cousin, Meena Mashi, waiting for her. She had already packed all her clothes in a suitcase. ‘It was a Wednesday evening—the day that farmers would bring their produce to the local haat. She always wanted the freshest veggies. And no one, or nothing, could stop her from going to the weekly haat. Nobody knows what exactly happened. She had been weak after a bout of flu and probably had a dizzy spell just when a speeding van—’

  Her voice wobbled with emotion. ‘She was rushed to the hospital and for a while we hoped and prayed that she would be fine…but the next day…it was all over.’

  Maya stared out of the window, trying to keep her tears in check. Krish glanced at her, his eyes brimming with compassion. ‘Your father wasn’t with you when it happened?’

  ‘I could not be with her when she needed me most. I’ll never forgive myself for that.’ The words in Papa’s diary were burned in her memory for ever. But it wasn’t Papa’s fault that he had not been there by Ma’s side. The person who was to blame for that was KD. He had woven an intricate web of lies to trap her unsuspecting father. And by the time Papa reached the hospital it had been too late for Ma.

  ‘No.’ She gulped hard, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. ‘He was away and couldn’t get to the hospital in time.’

  She would never forget the deep loss that she had felt in the weeks after Ma’s death. Papa had been wrapped in his own grief and was in no state to comfort her. Meena Mashi had come over to look after her for a few days but she had her own family to care for. Then it was just her and Papa—bonded in their grief and loss. And just how much worse it would have been for him! Torn by guilt and grief, his life had started unravelling before her. And she could do nothing but watch—bemused, lost, scared.

  Krish reached out for her hand. ‘You’ve had a difficult life, Maya. Your parents would be proud of the woman that you’ve become.’

  She glanced at him and saw the compassion in his eyes even as the warmth of his touch was like a soothing balm on her heart. But she steeled herself and pulled away. No matter what her relationship with Krish, he would always be the one whose father had destroyed her family. He will always be the Enemy. Don’t ever forget that, Maya!

  * * *

  ‘Wake up, Sleeping Beauty!’ Krish’s teasing voice jerked Maya awake.

  She shot up straight in her seat and came up close against Krish’s face. Too close for comfort.

  ‘Have we arrived?’ she asked, moving her head away so that her hair fell over her cheeks like a silk screen.

  He moved away from her, taking care not to touch her. He seemed remote. Something had changed during the car ride. Initially he’d tried to bait her with his sexual banter and then, for some strange reason, she’d felt an overwhelming need to share a part of her past that she had always kept locked within her. She could feel a subtle but definite shift in his attitude. He was almost aloof, as if he was trying to keep a distance, raise a wall around himself. It suited her fine. She should never have gone blabbing to him about her parents—what was she thinking?

  ‘You should have woken me up earlier,’ she grumbled as she got out of the car.

  ‘Seems like you didn’t get much sleep last night,’ he said with a sideways glance at her. ‘Anyway, I thought you might want to see this.’

  Maya looked around her and found that they were on the top of a hillside, overlooking a valley. In the distance, the majestic snow-capped peaks of the Himalayan ranges glittered in the sunlight. The clear crisp air and the rolling hills in the near vicinity made for an enchanting sight. As she took in the breathtakingly beautiful green valley, she was amazed to see terrace gardens dotting the hillside. ‘Are we near Dehradun?’

  ‘Thirty five kilometres beyond…It’s called Deovan. Forest of the Gods. This is part of the initial experiment that I started five years ago when I set up the Suvarna Hill Valley Project. The idea was to involve the hillside communities that are scattered in villages in this area. Along with a couple of NGO partners, we have been pretty successful in teaching organic farming techniques to the villagers.’

  She quickly forgot her irritation as she gazed at the terrace gardens that spread out in the distance. ‘Wow, that’s amazing.’

  Krish said, ‘Currently, all the hard work is done by the two NGOs that the SHVP funds. We wanted to demonstrate to the village community that this wasn’t just another business enterprise where people from the city would come in and profit without giving anything back to the locals. We wanted to gain their trust before proceeding with our own business plan.’

  He turned around and strode to the car. Maya paused for a moment longer, breathing in the cool, clean air before joining him. ‘And what would that be?’

  ‘To set up super-luxury resorts across several remote hill stations. These would cater to tourists who are looking for spiritual rejuvenation. The resorts would be income generators for the local hillside communities. So, everything that is consumed by the resort guests would be produced locally. The staff for these resorts would be hired locally, except for a few administrative positions.’

  As they took another sharp turn, he pointed out a solar power station that had been set up by the villagers with seed money from SHVP. ‘These villages had no electricity. But today the solar power station has completely changed the lives of the villagers.’

  ‘Unbelievable!’ she whispered to herself.

  ‘What’s so unbelievable?’ he shot back.

  ‘Well…that the heir to the Dev gazillions would actually put together a project like
this.’

  ‘You really have an annoying habit of pigeonholing people,’ he said sharply.

  Her tone was sarcastic. ‘Are you denying that the Dev name doesn’t have its privileges?’

  His eyes had darkened dangerously. ‘Are you implying that my father is financing this project?’

  He veered off the road on to a green patch and killed the engine. ‘Here’s a bit of advice for you—it’s best to keep your opinion to yourself on things that you know nothing about.’

  Maya knew she had perhaps gone a bit too far with her insinuations. She desperately needed to get out of the pressure-cooker-like atmosphere inside the car. Yanking the door open, she stormed out and instantly felt the cool breeze wrap around her. As she looked out at the pine-covered valley, the mist moved softly over the hills, exposing the green verge beyond like a veil being pulled away. Just like she was seeing a side to Krish that she hadn’t known existed. His dedication to his project had taken her by surprise, more so because he seemed determined to make it a success without KD’s help. Who was the real Krish—the playboy whose easy charm would give Casanova a complex or the do-it-yourself entrepreneur whose business philosophy had a humane touch to it?

  It was surreal—one side of the hills misted over with rain while the sun shone on the other side. Fascinated by the play of sun and rain, Maya was totally oblivious to the light drizzle that had started. She was overcome with a feeling of oneness with nature; she felt alive, free, and yet connected to the world.

  Krish and she belonged to two different worlds but somehow, in these serene surroundings, their differences seemed to fade away into nothingness.

  She wanted to reach out to him as he stood some distance away. Make amends. She knew she’d been unfair, been too quick to judge. She glanced across at him—his back was towards her. Every muscle, every sinew of his body screamed stay away. She took a deep breath and approached him.

  Oblivious to her, he picked up a stone and hurled it into the valley.

  Before she could touch him, he turned around to face her. Feeling awkward, she pulled her hand away. ‘Krish.’ Her voice quivered and the words on her lips dried up at the hard look in his eyes.