Flaming Sun Collection 1: Happily Ever Afters from India Box Set (The Malhotra Bride; Meghna; The Runaway Bridegroom)

by Sundari Venkatraman

  “Excuse me, Aisha. I’m not sure that I heard you right.” Rahul’s voice went cold, his eyes glittering gold, trying hard to hold on to his temper. “What’s it you want me to tell my secretary?”

  Aisha looked at Rahul. Her blood sang in excitement. She was thrilled just looking at him. She had never met a more attractive male specimen in the whole of her life. And she had met some of the best in the world. Looking at this male hunk made her head buzz in anticipation. When he spoke, her nerves jumped in response to his sexy voice. She was so glad that she had his mother on her side. Rajni aunty had promised Rahul to her. So what if he resisted some? The thrill was in the chase. It didn’t strike her that her quarry might not be in the run.

  “Wohi, that we’re engaged to be married.” She walked towards him, trying to put her arms around him once more.

  “Just a minute, Aisha. There’s obviously some mistake here. I don’t remember proposing to you, or is it the leap year?” Rahul was stone-faced as he bit out the words through tightly clenched teeth.

  “So what, Rahul? I understand that you prefer your mother to deal with such things. Rajni aunty has already told me how shy you are.” Rahul rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, as if he sought guidance from the heavens. “I’m not too fussy, Darling Rahul. I’ve fallen for you in a big way.” Her voice suggested that he was an honoured human being. “We should get along like a house on fire.”

  “And definitely burn to death in the process,” muttered Rahul, wondering how to deal with this woman who was blessed with a rhino’s hide. Nothing seemed to deter her from her chosen path. She left his mother wanting when it came to the pursuit of an object of possession. “Listen, Aisha. Let’s leave my mother out of this. It’s between you and me—”

  “Oh, Rahul that’s so wonderful. You aren’t as shy as your mother believes. You naughty boy.” Rahul didn’t make an effort to hide his distaste now, not that it bothered Aisha one bit. “I agree with you one hundred percent that this is between you and me. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” She sighed dramatically.

  Rahul didn’t try very hard to follow the logic in her statements before giving up on the wasted exercise.

  He looked at Aisha and raised a hand to silence her before she broke into speech again. “Just listen to me for once, Aisha.” His raised his voice by a few decibels to silence her. She looked at him seductively, her eyes slumberous, her stance supremely confident. Rahul cleared his throat, trying to find the right words so as to not hurt her. “I think you’re under a wrong impression. I don’t want to get married to anyone. I’m sorry that my mother misled you into believing otherwise—”

  “But, Rahul,” Aisha’s red mouth pouted once again, her dark eyes accusing, “I do love you so. I’m sure you aren’t thinking clearly. We’ll make a fantastic couple.” She clasped her hands together on her ample bosom, her gaze adoring him. “Just imagine, we’ll be the envy of the whole of London. We can party—”

  Rahul’s imagination terrorised him, drawing a clear picture of the future she described and he shuddered violently before cutting her short with a sound of disgust. “Enough, Aisha. I think we’ve had too much of this nonsense. I’m late for my appointment. Suffice to say that I am not, I repeat, NOT interested in you. Get that?” Rahul slammed out of his office to speak to Caroline, not waiting to hear Aisha’s reply.

  “I’m extremely sorry about that Rahul,” Caroline apologised. “I hadn’t realised that you’re engaged.” Her eyes were troubled as she looked at her young boss, feeling quite sorry for him. She thought that Aisha would make him an awful wife. But being the excellent secretary that she was, she kept her opinion to herself.

  “I’m not,” bit out Rahul. He looked at his secretary’s startled face and patted her arm saying, “I’m sorry Caro, didn’t mean to snap at you. Just ensure that that woman leaves before I return. My office is off limits to her, right?” He smiled at her, his good humour returning.

  “Gotcha, Boss. Not to worry. I’ll deal with her.” There was a glint in her eyes that boded ill for Rahul’s unwanted guest. He was glad to leave this particular task in the safe hands of his assistant, who was known as ‘The Dragon’ very aptly.

  Rahul came back to the present when he heard Meghna swear. He walked towards the open door of her bedroom to find out what was wrong. He burst out laughing when he saw her hair set in curlers. She looked up at him and joined him as his humour was so infectious.

  “Rahul, you idiot. Catch you to find something to laugh about in anything and everything. Did you speak to Shyam uncle? How’s he? What news from London?”

  “Dad’s fine, thanks. I thought I heard you swear. What happened?” His curiosity got the better of him as he walked inside, moving towards her, closing the door behind him.

  “Nothing much, Rahul. Only this nail polish.” She made a frustrated sound. “I’m hopeless at painting my nails. Usually Bhabhi helps me with it. But I didn’t want to disturb her today as she gets very little time with Sanjay,” Meghna sighed.

  “Why worry about anything when I’m here?” Rahul’s eyes crinkled with amusement.

  “You What do you know about painting nails?” asked Meghna, her eyes rounded in surprise.

  “Come on, Meghna. I don’t think it’s much different from painting walls. Only the difference is in the area to be painted and the size of the brush. Believe me; I’ve done some painting in my time.” He winked at her before squatting on the floor in front of her, crossing his legs.

  Meghna, who was sitting on her dressing stool, watched in fascination as the muscles rippled on his bare legs, his shorts stopping at mid-thigh.

  “Meghna,” Rahul snapped his fingers in front of her eyes before turning to look curiously at her dressing table. There was a stand containing an array of nail polish in various colours. An impish grin spread over his face as he asked her, “Which colour now?”

  Meghna looked down at Rahul as she wiped her nails on a piece of cotton, cleaning up the mess she had made. “Are you sure, Rahul?” She asked, looking a mite worried at the devil-may-care expression on his face.

  “But of course, Honey. What’s the harm? You can always clean it up if it’s not to your liking,” he pointed out logically.

  “Okay.” Meghna stretched out her hands in front of him after handing over a bottle of black glitter to him.

  Rahul wrinkled his nose at the colour before shaking the bottle thoroughly like a professional. Meghna watched in awe as he took hold of her hand and started painting her nails very meticulously with the least amount of fuss, his dark head bent in concentration. It was a relief to have his laughing eyes concentrating on something else for a change. Meghna gave a sigh of pure bliss and gave herself up to his ministrations.

  Not for long. “What are you doing?” squeaked Meghna, jumping to her feet.

  Rahul turned up to look at her impatiently. “You do want your toenails painted, I take it?” At Meghna’s nod, his frown deepened. “So why don’t you let me get on with it? Just sit down, will you?” He ordered before bending down once more to continue his task.

  “Rahul,” squealed Meghna once more.

  “What now?” Rahul looked up once again with a dramatic sigh, a smile lurking in his eyes.

  “Can’t you do that without touching my feet? I’m awfully ticklish.”

  “But let me first place them comfortably,” said Rahul before catching hold of her right foot again.

  Meghna seized his arm to stop him, a gurgle escaping her throat. “Please, Rahul,” she giggled. “I can’t take this. Just tell me where you want my foot. I’ll place it myself.”

  Rahul stared at her for a few seconds before gesturing towards his folded leg. “Here.”

  “On your leg?” asked Meghna. She looked at him, wondering if he was joking.

  “Yeah, Honey. That should be best. Come on, stop being a fuss pot. I don’t have all day.” He moved his hand towards her foot once more as if to complete the job himself. Meghna swiftly raised her fo
ot to place it on his bare thigh.

  It was difficult to say who was more astounded at the myriad sensations building up within the two of them. Rahul looked at Meghna, his honey gaze delving deeply into her dark grey one, forgetting to smile for once in his life.

  Her foot felt soft against the rough contour of his thigh and sensations shot up in fine darts all through his nerves. As for Meghna, the sole of her foot tingled at the contact with his hair-roughened thigh. Tiny sparks that began underfoot built a slow fire in her system.

  Rahul’s hand trembled slightly as he bent over to concentrate on the task at hand. He waited for Meghna to remove her right foot and place her left one in position before continuing with his work. Not a peep out of him.

  After he finished with this, Rahul asked Meghna in a hoarse voice, barely audible, “Do you want another coat?”

  She shook her head dumbly, not able to find her voice.

  Rahul got up abruptly to increase the speed of the fan and walked towards the window, moving the curtain aside to look down, his fists clenched.

  After about five minutes or so, Meghna walked up to him and not able to stop herself, wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his back. “Thank you, Rahul.” Her voice was a murmur.

  Rahul turned around in her arms to hold her tightly to his chest before whispering in her ear, “You’re welcome, Honey, at any time.” He still appeared rather dazed as he started planting tiny kisses, starting from her earlobe, moving down the length of her jaw.

  Meghna turned her head to meet his teasing lips halfway, opening her own to give him better access.

  Rahul kissed her long and hard before raising his head to look down at her flushed face, “You drive me crazy, you know.”

  Meghna looked at him before tracing a black-tipped finger at the Vee of his t-shirt, opening a button, her finger moving down the front.

  Rahul put his hand over hers, holding it firmly, stopping her from opening the next button.

  “Rahul, let me go. I want to—”

  Rahul bent down to kiss her briefly, stopping her in mid-sentence before saying, “No, Meghna. Don’t.” He lifted the hand he was holding and placed it at his waist. “I don’t think you’re fully aware of what you’re doing, you innocent baby.”

  That lit a spark of fire in her eyes. “I’m not all that innocent,” she declared.

  “Oh” The ever mobile eyebrow went up in query. “Let me hear what you’ve experienced,” he teased.

  “Why should I tell you? Are you interviewing me for some kind of a job?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I’m not interested in working for you.”

  Rahul bent down close to her ear and asked her, “Then what’re you interested in?”

  “Going to sleep.” Saying this, Meghna left his arms to go and sit on the bed. She yawned very obviously, planning to dismiss him from her room.

  “Wonderful idea. Couldn’t have thought of anything better myself.” Saying this, Rahul plonked himself on the other side of her bed.

  “Rahul,” Meghna wanted to ask him to leave but didn’t have the heart to send him away.

  He pulled her into his arms before tumbling them down on the bed and said, “Please, Sweetheart, let me sleep with you. I promise to behave. Will go to sleep quietly holding you. No mischief, cross my heart.” Rahul’s eyes appeared molten; the heat doing marvellous things to Meghna, making her heart beat erratically.

  She went into his arms willingly without as much as a word. Rahul moved to lie down with his face buried against her breasts, his arm tight around her waist.

  A startled Meghna put out a hand to pull at his hair. But her hand, having a mind of its own, caressed his unruly locks, stroking rhythmically against his scalp.

  Rahul sighed happily, burrowing down further. “Keep that up and I might even propose marriage,” he promised.

  Meghna’s hand stilled for a second before continuing its job. “Am I supposed to feel honoured?”

  He opened one eye lazily to give her an upward look. “But of course you should. Many girls I know would give their eyeteeth to marry the handsomest guy in London.”

  “Is that so? I don’t know. I’m interested in this guy who’s the handsomest in the world.” Meghna gave him a shy look before bending down to kiss him on his forehead, her hand caressing his lean cheek.

  “Is that supposed to help a guy go to sleep?” Rahul growled, his voice deep-throated. Both eyes were open now, bright with amusement and something else that Meghna couldn’t quite identify.

  “Well, I didn’t raise the subject of a marriage proposal. If you thought that that would help me go to sleep, you’re thoroughly mistaken.” Her grey eyes challenged him to get out of that one.

  Rahul grinned. “Trust my dear Meghna to have a comeback for everything.” He patted her cheek. “Now go to sleep,” he ordered, “before I change my mind about behaving myself.”

  Meghna didn’t need a second bidding. She closed her eyes tightly and contrary to all her expectations, went to sleep. And so did Rahul.

  Ten

  Shyam Sinha reached home at seven that evening. It was one of those rare days that he got home early. He got out of the Mercedes Benz and bid his driver goodnight before walking up the four steps to the double doors of his house. The door opened before he rang the bell as Ramsay had been looking out for his master.

  Shyam smiled his thanks on his way to the staircase. The house was centrally heated. But nothing to beat a fire in the grate, thought Shyam.

  He turned around to Ramsay and said, “Please light the fire in the Library, Ramsay. And set out my regular drink,” smiling at him.

  “Sure Sir.” The old butler hesitated. “Any news from Master Rahul, Sir?” he asked respectfully. “How is he?”

  Shyam’s smile widened. “Rahul’s very fine, thank you, Ramsay. He called me today morning. Looks like he’s found himself a girl.” Shyam couldn’t contain his glee. He had been dying to share that particular piece of information with someone who would understand. Who better than dear old Ramsay who was extremely fond of his young master?

  “Oh, really Sir?Congratulations Should I get a bottle of champagne out of the cellar, Sir?” he asked politely.

  “No, no, Ramsay, not yet,” laughed Shyam. “Nothing is fixed definitely yet. I’m only guessing at things. We’ll have to wait for Rahul to confirm before we celebrate. But you know how it is. With the anxiety of a typical father, I guess I got carried away. Give it a couple of days. I’m sure he’ll be out with the good news by then,” said Shyam, quite confident about his son’s love for Meghna.

  Ramsay nodded his head vigorously before saying, “Yessir.”

  Shyam Sinha hurried up the stairs to the Master Bedroom to change out of his work clothes into something informal and walked down to the Library in ten minutes flat.

  Ramsay had set up a tray containing a decanter of Scotch whiskey, a couple of bottles of soda, a flask of ice cubes and a tall glass. He was waiting patiently beside the recliner to pour out the drink for his master. A fire was burning cheerfully in the grate, throwing eerie shadows on the walls. Only a couple of lamps burned in the room, behind the recliner, just the way Shyam liked.

  Ramsay had also set up the ‘Home Theatre’ system, which he knew his master preferred to use instead of the 52” Television that was at one end of the thirty feet long room. The two lengths of the room were covered from ceiling to floor with racks containing books, giving the room its name. One rack was allotted to CDs & DVDs, to be seen and heard on the latest equipment set on a shelf with four speakers fitted at the corners of the room.

  Shyam sat on the recliner, pressing the button to release the footrest and leaned back with a sigh of pleasure.

  Ramsay handed him the remote to the Home Theatre as he poured a measure of whiskey into the glass before looking at his master for further instructions.

  “Make it a double, Ramsay, on the rocks,” said Shyam, switching the various channels by remo
te before he found his favourite news channel.

  He was very relaxed after a day’s hard work. Usually he went on to his club and spent the evening there. The other members were all friends and colleagues and generally tended to talk shop, which he as a rule didn’t mind as he lived and breathed his work. But he hadn’t been in the mood for it today. He wanted to be alone and at peace. In fact, he wanted to dream about the future; of becoming a grandfather.

  A smile lit Shyam’s face as he sipped from his glass, inhaling the bouquet of the fine Scotch whiskey. He hadn’t heard a word of what the newsreader had been saying over the past five minutes.

  His peace lasted for exactly five more minutes. It was shattered by the tornado that erupted into the Library in the guise of his wife, Rajni. She burst into the room and eyed her estranged husband with something akin to hatred in her eyes.

  Her honey brown gaze spat venom as it moved onto Ramsay who was standing behind his master’s chair at a respectable distance, waiting on him.

  “Ramsay,” her voice dripped ice, contradicting the fire in her eyes, “Are we paying you such exorbitant wages to be a butler or to while away your time watching the news, that too on the big screen, no less,” she asked maliciously.

  A ruddy colour rose up the old butler’s neck as he bent his head in shame before walking out of the Library without defending himself in any way, closing the door silently behind him.

  Shyam watched the interplay without interrupting. It was obvious that his antagonistic wife was on a warpath and he waited patiently for her next move.

  He didn’t have to wait long. She pointed a shaking finger at him saying, “You Youwily old man What have you planned for my son? Where’s he?” She moved forward into the room, her voice rising with each word. It was obvious to Shyam that she had imbibed a drink too many and his lip curled in disgust as he watched her unsteady progress towards him. He curbed his natural instinct to get to his feet to offer his chair to her. But then, he was convinced that his wife was no ‘lady’.

  “Why the sudden concern for Rahul? I’ve never seen you bothered about him from the day he was born, not even during your traumatic pregnancy,” pointed out Shyam mildly, waiting for her to get to the point.