by Abby Green
In that second Aneesa recalled the piercing blue eyes of the man she’d seen in the shadows and suddenly an impulse stronger than anything she’d ever felt rushed through her. In the midst of the shock and panic she acted with an economy and sureness of movement that surprised her. She stopped and bent and swiftly undid the knot that tied her sari to Jamal’s coat. She barely heard his indrawn breath and his hissed, ‘Aneesa … what do you think you are doing?’
Then she stepped off the dais. Heart thumping she went straight to her open-mouthed father and took his hand in hers. She was aware that everyone was frozen in shock and surprise and knew dimly that she had to take advantage of that. She brought her father’s hand to her mouth and pressed a kiss against it and said with a hoarse voice, her eyes filling with tears, ‘I’m so sorry, Papa, I can’t do this. I’ll pay you back. Please forgive me.’ And she fled.
Aneesa was barely aware of where she’d run, she knew only that she wouldn’t have long to capitalise on the shock of the wedding crowd before her father sent people to find her. She couldn’t bear to think of her parents’ confusion and dismay either, or else she’d falter altogether. And she couldn’t turn back now.
She stopped for a moment, her heart hammering in her chest. She’d come up several flights of service stairs and now saw what looked like a staff elevator. All Aneesa hoped for was that it would take her somewhere far away from that courtyard and somewhere quiet, where she could assess the situation she now found herself in. She longed for fresh air, and her clothes felt more constrictive than ever.
The elevator slid silently upwards, and then came to a smooth halt. The doors opened with a muted whoosh and she found herself in what looked like a utility room. Albeit a very plush utility room.
She approached the one door and opened it with her heart in her mouth. Peering out she could see that she was in a suite of rooms that went on and on. All was quiet and still. No one was here. She automatically assumed that she’d found one of the empty suites in this massive hotel. Heaving a huge sigh of relief, she emerged more fully and walked into a darkened kitchen. She could see a huge formal dining room and, through that, wall-to-wall sliding glass doors which led to an open terrace and balcony outside. She could see the skyline of Mumbai laid out like a glittering carpet. This was no ordinary suite, this was the penthouse!
When she thought of her own honeymoon suite with its king-size bed covered in rose petals she felt clammy and sweaty all over again. Almost tripping in her long sari she made for the glass doors, struggling to open them and get out to the fresh air.
Finally they slid back and Aneesa stumbled out, gasping now. She ripped the heavy garland of flowers from around her neck and let it fall to the ground. She was vaguely aware of a dim light coming from nearby but barely registered it. When she reached the wall she tipped her head back and breathed deep, the chaotic sounds of the crazy Mumbai traffic drifting up from far, far below.
Her heart finally started to slow down. So when she heard a deep drawling voice say, ‘Please don’t tell me you’re thinking of jumping …’ Aneesa screamed.
CHAPTER TWO
ANEESA whirled around so fast her head spun and she gripped the wall behind her with both hands. And then she saw him in the dim light. She recognised him instantly by his intense piercing blue eyes, like chips of ice. It was the man from the shadows she’d seen downstairs. And now she also registered what she’d missed entirely in her distraught state: a state-of-the-art terrace pool, lit from underwater.
The man’s arms were resting nonchalantly on the side of the pool, and crossed, as if he was quite used to hysterical women in full bridal regalia bursting onto his private terrace.
His hair was slicked back against a well-shaped skull and in the shadows the lines of his face were stark, his jaw hard. He arched one ebony-black brow and once again Aneesa had the gut-clenching realisation of how extraordinarily handsome he was. It was a physical sensation she’d never experienced with Jamal, even though she’d believed herself to be in love with him. The realisation sent shock through her system.
‘Shouldn’t you be kissing your groom about now?’
His laconically spoken words and their accompanying picture sent a wave of nausea through Aneesa. Barely thinking, she said numbly, ‘All Jamal will be concerned about is his precious reputation.’
Hearing her own voice loud in the silence made shock grip her anew. She had to leave. Get away from here, but just as she started to move she realised that her legs had turned to jelly. To her utter horror and chagrin, she folded to the ground from the waist down like a rag doll, the previous minutes’ events crippling her.
So quickly, that she didn’t have time to register, the man had hauled himself out of the pool and was crouched beside Aneesa, water sluicing off his taut body. Big hands came under her arms and suddenly he was lifting her up as if she weighed no more than a doll.
Amidst the shock of reality hitting her, and his proximity, a torrent of words clamoured to get out.
‘I’m so … sorry … had no idea anyone was here. I ran … had to get away. I’ll go … leave you alone … shouldn’t be here …’
Aneesa was aware that her teeth were chattering and that the man was effortlessly supporting her as he led her back through the doors and into a luxurious living room, switching on low lights as he went. His arm around her was like a steel support, and the wet body she could feel through her sari felt like a warm wall of hard muscle.
He brought her over to a sumptuous couch and sat her down with a gentleness that belied his obvious strength. When she was seated he crouched down and looked up into her face. However handsome she’d thought him before, up close he was quite simply breathtaking.
Even though his hair was wet, she could see that it was cut almost militarily short. His blue eyes were deep set, over a patrician nose which gave him a look of royalty. A thin upper lip spoke of a cool control, but his full lower lip spoke of passion and an innate sensuality, and even though he was a complete stranger Aneesa had the almost overwhelming urge to run her finger along that lower lip and see if his icy blue eyes would darken with the promise of sensual satisfaction.
Aghast at the totally uncharacteristic and wanton direction of her thoughts she recoiled back and then wished she hadn’t as it gave her a better view of his broad shoulders and tautly muscled chest, covered with a smattering of masculine hair.
Something flashed in his eyes and he drew back too, asking, ‘Will you be OK for a minute if I go and put some clothes on?’
Aneesa’s head nearly fell off she nodded it so vigorously. She couldn’t even speak and just watched with a dry mouth as he stood to his full imposing height, and strode away. Helplessly, her eyes drawn to the sheer athletic grace with which he walked. He had a broad back, which tapered down to narrow hips and then lower to where his short swim trunks hugged the globes of his muscular bottom. His skin was a burnished olive as if he spent much time outdoors, and dimly she wondered if he might be some sort of professional athlete.
With a flood of heat rising from her belly upwards Aneesa finally dragged her gaze away and groaned, bringing her hands to her face. What was wrong with her? She’d just sent her whole life into a tailspin and here she was drooling over some stranger’s half-naked body.
The only thing stopping her from getting up and running at that moment was a curious sense of lethargy and also the very real fear that she’d collapse again. Also she owed this man an explanation for bursting into his penthouse suite. She told herself she’d just wait till he came back and then apologise and leave, and hopefully by then she’d be in a fit enough state to walk out with some measure of dignity, and find some other sanctuary where she could lick her wounds.
Sebastian stepped out from under the cold spray of the quickest shower he’d ever taken and roughly ran a towel over his body. He’d had to take a cold shower because merely putting his hands under Aneesa Adani’s arms when he’d helped her inside had unleashed a flood of desire so for
ceful that he’d nearly lost control.
He could still feel the gentle swell of her breast against his side, the silky brush of her hair as it had swung against him and an enticing scent of exotic flowers. Her skin was as soft as he’d imagined it might be earlier.
He cursed himself as his body started to respond to the mental images again and he enforced rigid control, dragging on a pair of black trousers and a white shirt. Clearly she didn’t feel the same level of intensely immediate attraction if the way she’d recoiled just now was anything to go by. And what the hell was she doing here anyway? She should be in the midst of her wedding right now, and yet she’d looked like a car crash victim. Albeit the most beautiful car crash victim he’d ever seen.
Grimly he recognised that he obviously hadn’t misread her look earlier. Her mouth … He had to grit his jaw just thinking of how it had trembled. How she’d pressed those lips together to try and contain her emotion. And how it had made him want to reach up and pull her head down to his so that he could press his mouth against hers and see if she tasted as sweet as she looked.
He’d just finished his first punishing set of lengths when she’d burst onto the terrace and for a second he’d believed he might be hallucinating. Or going mad. He’d spoken out loud as much to dispel the image before him, but then she’d screamed and turned around, clearly stunned to find anyone there. And as soon as he’d realised that she was very real, his brain had gone into meltdown.
Chagrined to be brought to this level of lack of control, Sebastian took a deep breath and went back out to the living room.
* * *
Aneesa heard the stranger returning and stood, but almost immediately she swayed. In a second he was by her side again—and dressed, she noted with relief. He pushed her back down onto the couch gently.
His voice was grim. ‘You’re not in any state to go anywhere.’
Before Aneesa could protest he was handing her a glass which held about an inch of dark golden liquid. She looked up and said huskily, ‘I don’t drink.’
He held it out. ‘Consider it medicinal. You need something, you’re clearly in shock.’
Belatedly she noted the English intonation of his accent. With a slight tremor in her hands she took the glass, relieved that their fingers didn’t touch, and wrinkling her nose, she took a sip, wincing as the fiery liquid burnt its way down her throat. Almost immediately she could feel it settle into her stomach and a resulting warm numbing glow spread outwards.
She sensed rather than saw him move away and when she could muster the courage she looked up to see him standing a few feet away with arms crossed, leaning insouciantly against the glass doors. The white of his shirt couldn’t disguise the powerful chest underneath, or the way the muscles in his arms bunched. He watched her intently and she flushed.
She bit her lip and then said, ‘I’m very sorry for disturbing you like this. I had no right to barge in.’
He frowned then, black brows drawing together over those mesmerising eyes. ‘How did you get in?’
Aneesa faltered for a moment, much of her journey here was hazy. ‘I think through a service lift, into a utility room …’
His mouth tightened with displeasure and Aneesa read it to mean that he was angry with her. She started to apologise again. ‘I’m so sorry—really, I had no idea where I was going—’
He cut her off. ‘It’s not your fault.’
Just then a phone rang, making Aneesa flinch. Her heart started to hammer again and she looked from the phone on a nearby table to the man in horror. ‘They must be looking for me….’
As he pushed himself away from the glass doors he said, ‘I’ll have to answer it or they’ll send someone up.’
Aneesa stood in agitation, still gripping the glass. ‘Please, don’t tell them I’m here. Please. I’m not ready to deal with … it.’
She watched as the man picked up the phone, answering with a curt, ‘Yes,’ his eyes never leaving hers.
Aneesa could just hear an indistinctly panicked voice. They must be phoning every room in the hotel. Her heart sank. This man was a complete stranger; he had no obligation to protect her. But even as she was thinking this and fearing the worst he cut off the babble on the phone and said, ‘I’ve seen no one. Please don’t disturb me again tonight unless it’s urgent. I’m sure the manager can deal with the situation.’
And he put down the phone. His eyes hadn’t left hers for a second.
Relief washed through Aneesa, dizzying in its intensity, even as her skin tingled, as if something unspoken had just passed between them. ‘Thank … thank you so much, I know you have no obligation to help me….’
The man prowled close to her and took the glass from her white-knuckled grip, placing it down on a table. Curiously, she recognised that even though she didn’t know him, she felt safe with him. As if she could trust him. And that was a revelation when for days she’d looked at everyone around her with suddenly jaundiced eyes.
He straightened up again to his full intimidating height. ‘Perhaps we should introduce ourselves, because it looks like you won’t be going anywhere for a while. They have every guard combing the hotel for you right now. I think you must be aware that I know who you are.’
Up until recently she would have automatically expected that response, but while this man knew who she was, clearly he wasn’t in thrall and that gave Aneesa a heady feeling. New humility and untold gratitude for this sanctuary made her voice soft. ‘Yes, I’m Aneesa.’
After a long moment she put out her hand, only becoming belatedly aware of what a caricature she must look like with the henna tattoo and all the elaborate jewels, and the wedding outfit. Her hand was enveloped in his much larger one, his grip warm and strong and sending a disturbing electric tingle right to her groin. He smiled and it was lopsided, making Aneesa feel dizzy again. She feared after tonight that she’d never get her equilibrium back.
‘Sebastian … at your service it would seem.’ Sebastian had made a split-second decision not to mention his family name, feeling it hanging like a yoke around his neck, and was aware for the first time that he was in the presence of someone who didn’t appear to know who he was. The thought was curiously heady.
A thread of illicit tension snaked through Aneesa at his words. As if he might be at her service in a much more carnal way. Shocked by that thought, and suddenly overwhelmed by everything and feeling more and more ridiculous, she said shakily, ‘Would you mind if I used your bathroom?’
He stood back after a long moment, releasing her hand with deliberate slowness, and shook his head, gazing so intently at her that she felt flutters run all the way up and down her spine. No man had ever looked at her so explicitly. He gestured to the back of the penthouse. ‘By all means, it’s just through there.’
Aneesa walked away on still-wobbly legs and found the bathroom, slipping inside and closing the door. It was a relief to be away from that courtyard and the intense pressure, and a relief to be away from Sebastian’s disturbing presence. Just then she remembered how it had been the memory of his eyes that had acted as a catalyst to make her run from the ceremony.
And now she was here, in his suite. And he was protecting her from the hordes.
She shivered slightly. She was a pragmatic per son, not given to flights of fancy, but it suddenly felt very serendipitous to have arrived here. Immediately that visceral physical response flooded her body in a way that had never happened before.
Even on the fateful evening she’d gone to Jamal’s room to seduce him in her impossibly naïve way, she’d felt no physical anticipation, and yet in the space of the past few minutes she’d become more aware of herself and another man than she ever had been in her whole life. It was fast eclipsing the recent disastrous events.
She pushed away from the door and went to stand in front of the mirror; a soft light had come on automatically once she’d opened the door of the bathroom. She sighed deeply. When had she become so used to, or expected, such flippant luxuries?
She looked at her heavily made-up face and urgently wanted to feel clean again. As if she could get rid of the persona of Aneesa Adani, Bollywood’s darling. She released the clip which held the jewel that sat in the centre of her forehead and laid it down carefully and with warm water in the sink she bent and splashed it over her face.
After a few minutes though, she could see that it was going to take a lot more than water to wipe it all away. A sense of futility washed through her and also pain, to know the upheaval she was undoubtedly causing within her family. Jamal she wasn’t unduly concerned about; he would survive, especially now she knew he’d only seen her as a strategic pawn.
But her parents … they had deserved better. She could picture the disappointment and humiliation on their faces right now. They loved her so much, and while she knew they were proud of her success, she knew that they’d have been equally proud if she’d become a housewife and had babies. They’d always accepted her unconditionally and this is how she repaid them….
Emotion surged; Aneesa was unable to stop gut-wrenching sobs from rising upwards. She hadn’t really lost control yet, and the pressure of keeping it together nearly floored her now. She pulled at the bangles on her arms and rings on her fingers, uncaring of the pain as she ripped them off, dropping them to the counter. With shaking hands she untied the necklace from around her neck and it, too, fell under its own heavy weight.
Sobbing now in earnest, and with a sense of inner desperation mounting and anger at herself once again for having been so stupid and selfish, she tried ineffectually to wash the henna tattoo off her arms and hands, knowing that all the scrubbing in the world wouldn’t remove it, only the passing of time.
