“Thank you,” Sangita smiled at Gautam, her finger tracing the dimple on his cheek. “I find that quite captivating, you know. It looks cute,” she said.
“Believe me, it's broken many a heart,” said Gautam, tongue-in-cheek, his blue gaze mischievous.
Sangita stared at him, startled. She didn't know whether to take him seriously. She turned away as his look became intense. “We'd better leave, Gautam. I don't want to be late.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” said Gautam, starting the car before making a U-turn towards the city. “And Sangita, do believe me when I say that my heart had been quite intact until the day I met you.” Gautam didn't wait for Sangita's reply as he whistled under his breath. His mood had improved tremendously. Sangita wasn't aware that her expression had been a dead giveaway when he commented about broken hearts. She didn't know that he was completely satisfied with her reaction.
11
It was Sunday. Sangita stood on the terrace beside the branches of the flame-of-the-forest that had grown to the height of the second floor. She had had a leisurely oil bath and was drying her flowing, dark tresses under the sun. The house was situated on a by-lane and she stood there idly watching the few cars come and go. This was a weekly ritual she found extremely soothing. The rest of the family didn't miss her as they were busy watching the line-up of Sunday soap operas on TV. She felt free as the sparrow that was flying against the brilliant, blue sky. There was no hospital duty nor was there any work in the kitchen. Sunday brunch was generally ordered from a local restaurant.
Sangita hugged these mornings to herself, selfishly. She loved her couple of hours on the terrace under the sun and her favourite tree. A smile lit her features as she scanned the sky. There was not a cloud in sight. She slowly brought her gaze down to the road. A tremor shook her slender fame as she caught sight of a man across the road. Extraordinarily tall and wearing dark glasses and a cap, he leant against a lamp post and was staring at their home. Why would someone do that?
The man raised his head to look up at the terrace. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt a ripple of anticipation dancing down her spine. The indolent grace of the stranger appeared familiar. She shook her head in a daze. She was obviously hallucinating. It couldn't be Gautam. Was he so much in her thoughts that she was seeing him in strangers? 'Idiot', Sangita berated herself.
By now the man had noticed her. Just as she was about to walk away, he removed his sunglasses and raised two fingers in a mock salute.
Sangita sagged against the terrace wall as her breath left her body in a gasp. It was Gautam! She stared at him. What was he doing here? Panic welled up in her throat. It was obvious he was waiting for her. Was he mad?
He slowly crossed the street, obviously planning to talk to her. She raised a hand to stop him and ran down the stairs into the house. Was she glad everyone was watching TV! She rushed into her bedroom and shutting the door, reached for the phone to rapidly dial Gautam's cell.
The mobile rang once; twice... 'Pick up, Gautam,' willed Sangita. He took the call on the fourth ring. Sangita sank against the pillows, wiping her sweaty palm against her cotton sari.
“Hi,” Gautam's firm voice came on the line.
“Hello,” Sangita's voice was a croak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Hello, Gautam.”
“Hi, beautiful,” came the sexy voice. “So this is how you appear on a Sunday morning, letting your hair down. I so wanted to join you. Just as I was going to climb the wall and on to your terrace...”
“Listen, you Romeo,” Sangita cut him mid-sentence. Her brain scrambled every time she heard his rough voice with that American accent. She tended to forget what she had meant to say. “Why should you want to climb over? I...”“Ah, but you've broken my heart, ma'lady. I thought...”
“Gautam, please. What are you doing on my road?”
“Your road?” There was amusement in his rich voice. “I thought it belonged to the Corporation of Madras.”
“Oh, heavens, Gautam!” Sangita's voice was impatient. “Listen to me.”
“I am, sweetheart. Listening to you. I love the way you call my name.” His voice dropped to a soft caress.
She moved the receiver away from her ear to look at it strangely. It had seemed as if he was standing right next to her, whispering in her ear. She almost felt his hot breath on her neck. Her slender body shook in response.
“Sangita, are you there?”
She pressed the receiver back to her ear and said, “Listen, Gautam. I don't know what you're playing at. I don't want my parents upset. Please go away,” her voice was beseeching.
“Funny that you always worry about your parents' reaction,” Gautam's voice had turned sarcastic. “Don't our feelings come into it?”
A startled Sangita wondered where the 'our' had sprung from. Did they have feelings for one another? She didn't answer as she sensed a subtle shift in their relationship. She wasn't sure whether she had the guts to take it forward.
“Sangita?”
“Hmm.” Her breath came out in a sigh.
“Don't tell me you didn't hear me,” he accused.
Her sense of tranquillity had shattered. “Gautam, do we...” her voice was hesitant. “Do we...have some kind of feelings in this matter?” she tried again. “Can't we talk about this tomorrow?”
“Of course we do, damn it,” his voice exploded in her ear, the forceful sound like a gunshot. “And no, this can' wait. Either you come out of your bloody jail to meet me or I'm comin' right inside this very moment to meet you, parents or no.” He completely lost his cool.
Sangita blanched. What should she do? He was capable of keeping his word. She quickly said, “Give me five minutes and I'll meet you outside. I'll call you if I'm unable to.” Her voice was breathless with alarm.
“No way, sweetheart; you'd better meet me. I'm switching off my cell phone the moment you disconnect. Either you meet me outside in five minutes or I come in. The choice is yours.”
Some choice! She thought of the gentleman she had come to know over the past couple of weeks. Was this the same guy? The man she knew was calm and quiet with laughing, blue eyes. But this one seemed like a tornado sweeping away all her protests.
“Sangita?” Gautam's voice was impatient.
“Yeah, I'm coming. Just give me a moment, please.” There was a note of desperation in her voice; though it didn't seem to influence Gautam one bit.
“Okay. I'll see you soon.” He disconnected his cell abruptly while she replaced the receiver with a trembling hand.
She was still for a few moments, not knowing what to do. Rekha! Her sister-in-law would know what to do. She rushed out of the bedroom. Only after taking a few steps did she realise that her hair was a mess.
She rushed back into the room and scooped the whole length into a loose knot at her nape with no pins to secure it. She went out once again tucking her purse under her arm and sat next to Rekha on the floor at the back of the hall from where the latter was watching TV.
“Manni.” Sangita touched her sister-in-law's arm. Rekha took one look at the younger girl's pinched features and got up in a hurry. Sangita put a finger to her lips as the two of them moved to the kitchen.
“Manni,” Sangita's voice was breathless. “Will it be alright if I go out for a while?” Her eyes pleaded with her sister-in-law. “Gautam's outside and insisting that I meet him.”
Light dawned on Rekha's face as she smiled. No wonder Sangita was in a flutter. “You go on, Sangita. I'll hold the fort here. Oh, by the way, take a shopping basket and your purse. You can buy some vegetables on your way back. I'll tell the others that you've gone to get some that I urgently need for the evening.” Rekha smiled her encouragement. The Sunday market was at quite a distance. “I'll expect you only after at least an hour.”
“Not so long, Manni and thank you so much,” Sangita hugged her, “you're an angel.”
She left the house by the back door, checking her watch. It was seven minutes sinc
e Gautam disconnected the phone. She rushed to the gate to find him standing close to it, his fingers on the handle, ready to step in. She gave an audible sigh of relief. Looked like a man of his word, the devil.
He opened the gate for her as she stepped out, shutting it behind her. Her eyes begged him to move away. He shrugged his wide shoulders before walking to the pavement across the road. He tilted his head towards the silver-grey Honda City standing a few compounds away. She walked in a half-run towards it as he followed at a leisurely gait. On hearing the click of the remote, Sangita opened the passenger door and slid into the luxurious, cushioned upholstery and closed the door shut.
The half-minute it took Gautam to reach the car seemed like hours to her worried mind. Thank God for the tinted glass. She could just imagine the uproar if the nosy Sharada Maami had seen her waiting in a stranger's car.
She took out a handkerchief to wipe the moisture that had collected on her upper lip as Gautam got into the driver's seat and started the engine before switching on the air conditioner.
“Good girl,” he grinned. Was he glad that she had fallen in with his wishes! Frankly, he had no clue what he would have done otherwise. Entering her home was an empty threat. He wouldn't dream of landing her in trouble with her parents, not again.
“Tell me, Gautam. What do you want to see me about?” Sangita asked in a rush, her eyes not quite meeting his. It had just struck her that they were alone in the closed confines of his car, once again. Her blood sizzled.
“Hmm.” He looked at her face avidly, his eyes drinking in her beauty thirstily. “I just wanted to see you. I missed you at the hospital today,” he added.
Her panicked gaze flew to his, her hand at her slender throat. What was he playing at? “You came to just see me?” asked Sangita, her temper shooting to the surface. All this tension and trouble because he wanted to see her? Her eyebrows gathered in a frown.
“Yeah.”
Sangita put her hand on her door, turning away from him. “Well, you've seen me. Bye.” She tried to open the lock.
“There's a central lock,” he stated, a smile of satisfaction lighting his features.
“Will you please open it, Gautam? I'd like to go home,” she said, her face red with anger.
“Don't be silly, Sangita. I...”
“I'm being silly?” she turned around and snapped at him. He stared at her face, fascinated by her eyes flashing with temper. “You...” she took a deep breath to steady her voice. Her breasts heaved. Gautam continued to study her, totally captivated by her volatile reaction. “You are the one creating trouble, disturbing me on a Sunday morning, getting me out without my parents' knowledge and all for what?” Her voice rose steadily, “just to see me? Look who's being silly,” she concluded.
“Do I disturb you, Sangita?” came back Gautam's soft query.
She looked at his disconcerting gaze. What could she tell him—that his eyes refused to leave her alone, whether she was awake or asleep? That his touch drove her crazy? That his soul-searing kisses had rewritten the meaning of love in her personal dictionary? That the purpose she was going to work nowadays was only to wait for him to come for his physiotherapy session? That she was dreading the day when he would stop coming to the hospital when the doctor pronounced him fit?
And he wanted to know whether he disturbed her! Sangita would have laughed out except for the seriousness of the situation. She was slowly but surely becoming addicted to him. She, a widow from an orthodox, Brahmin family, had no hope of a future with him.
“What, no come back?” came the soft question. He had been watching her face intently, the expressions chasing one after the other. He didn't exactly require a verbal answer. Gautam shifted into first gear.
“Gautam?” He turned to look at her. His instinct was to gather her in his arms and wipe the fear and worry away from her brow. But not so close to her home. He drove down the road.
“Where are we going?” Sangita asked, her voice laced with panic.
“Where do you want to go?” he countered.
“I don't want to go anywhere.” Fear choked her throat. “Take me home, please.”
“I will do just that,” he said. The car gathered speed as he slid it on to the main road.
“Gautam?”
“You wanted me to take you home, right? I'm taking you home, to my place.”
“You can't be serious.” Sangita was horrified.
“I've never been more serious in my life, ever.” Gautam concentrated on his driving till they reached a red signal.
“Please, Gautam.” Sangita placed her hand on his forearm to add weight to her pleas.
Gautam felt the coldness in her hand before placing his to cover her tiny one. He looked down at her bowed head as her slender frame shuddered.
“Do I strike fear in your heart?” he asked gently.
She looked up straight into the gorgeous blue eyes and shook her head. “Not you, Gautam. I'm not afraid of you.”
“Then what's it? Will it be so difficult to spend half an hour in my company? Can't you manage to bear the brunt of your parents' anger for our sake?” he asked in a soft voice.
Sangita nodded her head, her eyes not leaving his face. He broke into a smile as he lifted her hand to press a kiss against her palm.
The sound of horns behind them brought Gautam back to earth and he moved the car forward. Silence reigned for the few minutes it took for them to reach Shraddanjali.
Butterscotch came tearing across the garden to welcome his master, barking his excitement. Gautam got out of the car after opening Sangita's door from the inside.
“Hi, Butter, howdy-do?” He fondled the huge dog, which gave in to his ministrations with a bark of pleasure.
Sangita watched him go on his haunches to fondle the dog. She walked forward with a smile on her face at the look of rapture on Butterscotch's face. Then it was her turn to greet the Labrador.
“Hello, you sweetheart, do you remember me?” asked Sangita as she went down on her knees to hug Butterscotch close. The canine responded by licking her face exuberantly. She giggled helplessly as he smothered her face with his wet tongue. “Slow down, you fatso,” she gurgled.
Gautam watched the two of them with an adoring gaze before he guided her into the bungalow. The cook opened the door for them.
“Hello, Ramanna. This is Sangita. And Sangita, this is Ramanna. He's officially the cook.” Gautam put his arm around the man who seemed about fifty years of age. “But he's as good as a member of the family, having been here from even before I was born.”
“Namaskaram!” Sangita brought her palms together close to her chest, fingers facing up as Ramanna returned her greeting in a similar fashion.
“Ramanna, we'll be up in my suite. I'm not available if any phone calls come in, okay?”
“Yes. Shall I make coffee?”
“Maybe later.” Sangita gave a small nod as he looked at her for confirmation.
Gautam directed Sangita to the marble staircase sweeping up from the centre of the hall. “This is my grandparents' home,” he said conversationally. “I live with them. I've a suite of three rooms on the first floor.” They walked up the staircase before Gautam turned left.
Sangita looked first one way and then the other as she took in her luxurious surroundings. “Where are they?” she asked.
“Gone to the temple.”
The hall they entered was similar in size to the one on the ground floor. One whole wall—west facing—was a sheet of glass. The view into the big garden was breathtaking. She could sense Gautam's impatience as she lingered. But she dreaded the moment they would be alone.
“Sangita,” the voice was a soft command. He was desperate to get her alone; away from the constant interruptions. He so wanted to get a few minutes of her undivided attention.
They entered a sitting room which had his personality stamped all over. “Welcome to my abode,” smiled Gautam.
“You spider, I'm no fly,” she retaliated in a li
ght vein, trying to cover up for her nervousness.
“No, definitely not a fly; more like a lady bug. Cute!” He touched an index finger to her nose before moving it to trace the shape of her lips. Sangita watched him in fascinated horror, unable to move away.
What happened next was as inevitable as night following day. Sangita gave in with a sigh as Gautam pulled her into his arms and proceeded to kiss her. His hands were everywhere. Her hair came apart from the loose knot the moment he touched it. He pulled it over her shoulder and buried his face in it.
“Sangita,” he whispered in her ear. “You are too beautiful.” His lips trailed wet kisses on her jaw line. Her hands were caught between their bodies. He pulled them impatiently around his neck and dragged her close to his hard frame. “That's better,” he sighed as he felt her soft curves pressing against his hard chest.
Sangita waited for the fear to come, in vain. In fact, she felt completely safe. 'Hey,' she reminded herself, 'it's a man holding you. No,' she thought to herself, 'this man would never hurt me.' His touch excited her and she revelled in his kisses.
Gautam was busy, his lips against her throat, his hands about her bare waist. She wanted him to kiss her some more.
“Gautam.”
“Hmm.”
“Gautam,” this time 'her' voice was louder, her hands tugging at his hair.
“What's it, darling?” Gautam raised his head to look down at her glowing face, his eyes glazed, his voice slurred with passion.
“Kiss me,” she told him firmly.
A smile of astonished delight lit up his face as he bent down to oblige her whim.
Sangita pressed her body closer to his as her fingers played with the silky brown strands at the nape of his neck, tugging at them restlessly, her lips under assault.
To his pleasant surprise, Gautam realised that he was kissing a novice.
He raised his head to look at Sangita. Her eyes were shut tightly as colour ran high on her cheekbones.
She opened her eyes to find out what had stopped him. Gautam's blue eyes looked into her brown ones. “Open your lips,” he ordered.
The Madras Affair Page 12
