Undressed

by Heather MacAllister

  It took both Jenny and Lia to help Anji step into the dress and do up the back.

  They all stared.

  “The short sleeves and the neckline remind me of those tops you wear with your saris,” Jenny began tentatively when Anji remained silent.

  “Cholis,” Anji supplied in a dreamy voice. This was her dress, a perfect mix of both cultures. The dress she’d wear to marry Devak.

  Lia tugged on the shoulders. “We can raise the neckline if you think it’s too revealing,” she offered.

  The tops of her breasts swelled above the bodice. More than a hint, but less than slutty. Anji smiled. “Oh, no. It’s perfect just the way it is.”

  3

  DEV HAD TO BUY a navy blue suit to justify staying in the fitting room. It was worth it to have had that intimate interlude with his future wife. And a man could always use a perfectly tailored navy blue suit.

  But it wasn’t going to be perfectly tailored unless he stopped thinking of Anji half-naked in the fitting room next door long enough so that he could have the pants measured.

  He wanted to be able to answer the “Do you dress right or dress left?” question instead of the “Why are you sticking straight out front in the men’s fitting room?” question.

  He felt more awake and alive than he’d been in months. And his enthusiasm about the wedding had increased exponentially. Before, he’d been happy and satisfied to have found a life mate he’d enjoy getting to know and love. Now, he was surprised and pleased and really enthusiastic…until he wondered if she was okay with what had happened. Had she enjoyed it? Or was she disgusted?

  Calm down, Dev.

  Except he was proud of himself in an entirely adolescent way. It had been too long since he’d thought of a woman to the point that he’d become visibly aroused. Hey, look at me! Now, that would get him kicked out of the store.

  Dev needed to see Anji and talk to her without their families or the chaperone of the day hanging around. Truly, it was ridiculous, since Anji in particular had seen plenty of men’s privates. However, it was tradition, and as their schedules so rarely meshed, wasn’t worth arguing about.

  But Dev wanted time alone with Anji when he could see her face while they spoke. What had been the abstract idea of a wife had become specifically about her. Truthfully, he hadn’t thought much about the details of their wedding—weddings. He was involved in his work and showed up when his family told him to.

  What did she think about it all? Feelings such as those were not something to discuss in text or e-mail. Their phone conversations usually ended with one or the other of them being paged or yawning with tiredness.

  Not much of a courtship.

  Just before Dev thought he was going to have to add a pair of gray slacks to his order, he heard the women leave while Anji changed into her own clothes.

  He knocked on the wall. “Anji?”

  “Dev! I can’t believe you’re still there.”

  “I bought a suit so they wouldn’t kick me out.”

  “Ha! Well, I can’t stay in this room because it’s booked for another bride.”

  “I wanted to ask if I could see you.”

  “Are we not having lunch at the Wainright with our families in thirty minutes?”

  “I mean alone. To talk. Really talk. To see each other while we speak. Without someone listening and giggling,” he grumbled.

  “Oh, my, think of the scandal,” she said in a singsong voice.

  “See me after lunch. Today.”

  “I can’t. All the women are coming back here to choose my gown. And, Dev, don’t mention that we’ve already found it! Jenny and I were just expediting. My mother thinks I was only getting measured so they could have dresses in my size. Not that they do,” she added. “They use clips that remind me of the ones used to close bags of potato chips.”

  “I will want to hear about all of that later.” Not a chance. “So you’ll show your mother the dress and then we’ll meet.”

  “Oh, no. First, I’ll have to try on several dresses that they can reject. Jenny and I have already picked those. After a time, they’ll grow bored. Then, I come out wearing the dress I like and they’ll be so happy and decide that that is the dress I should have. If I come out wearing it first, they won’t like it nearly as much.”

  Women. Dev shook his head. “Then how about after that? We could have dinner together.”

  “I rode here with Jenny.”

  “I’ll drive you home!”

  “All the way back to Temple? That’s hours out of your way.”

  “So what?”

  He heard her sigh. “It will be very late and I’ll be very tired. It won’t be the best time to have an important conversation.”

  So. She was avoiding him. Not good. He draped the blue suit over his arm. “My grandmother told me a story about a man and a woman who met each other for the first time on their wedding day. They moved into his parents’ home and shortly afterward, they were walking to the market together. It was very crowded and they became separated. She couldn’t search for him because she couldn’t remember exactly how he looked. So she sat on a bench and waited until he found her. It took a very long time because he wasn’t sure of her appearance, either.” He stood. “I just want to be able to find you if we become separated, Anji.”

  “We have cell phones, Dev.”

  She was deliberately missing the point. In frustration, he whipped out his cell phone and punched in her number. He heard a muffled ringing that grew louder as she uncovered her phone and answered it.

  “Dev? What are you doing?”

  “We need to talk. We are going to talk. If you want to talk in front of our families at lunch, then I am willing to do so. However, the topics I wish to discuss are not suitable for lunch conversation and you might find it awkward to answer in front of your parents.”

  “You’re blackmailing me!”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I don’t like it.”

  “Neither do I.”

  In the silence, he heard Jenny’s voice. “Aren’t you dressed yet? We’re going to be late and your mother will lecture me about my duties again.”

  “All right, Dev. You win. I’ll meet you after we finish selecting my dress.” Anji disconnected.

  He closed the phone, feeling nothing like a victor.

  “YOU ARE GOING to be a most beautiful bride,” Anji’s mother told her. “Both here and in India. At first, I say to myself, ‘Why must there be two ceremonies?’ But the legal and the religious—that I understand. The legal work is so very much easier to do in this country.”

  Anji hugged her mother. “Goodbye, Mom.” Her parents were headed home and Anji was going to have dinner with Dev, who would then drive her all the way back to Temple. The idea had not been received well.

  She waved to her father in the car. “Tell Dad to drive safely.”

  “I don’t like the two of you going off on your own.” Her mother glared at Dev. “My daughter is a good girl.” She shook her finger at him. “You will do nothing to dishonor her.”

  “I will not, Mrs. Rawat.” Dev was very deferential. The perfect Indian son-in-law to be.

  If her mother only knew, Anji thought darkly. He may have gotten his way this time, but she was going to make it very clear to him that it would not work in the future.

  Her mother turned to her. “And you will do nothing to dishonor yourself.”

  “Yes, Mama.”

  Her mother looked suspiciously at them, but was apparently reassured.

  No kidding. Anji might sound like a shrew before the night was over, but there was no dishonor in standing up for herself. This bossiness was not an attractive side of Dev and she’d decided that this evening was the opportunity to find out if there were any other traits that were deal breakers.

  The official wedding invitations had not yet been mailed, so if she needed to back out of this marriage, she could. And would.

  That would teach her to make life decisions after a tw
enty-four-hour shift.

  They waved goodbye to Anji’s parents.

  “You’re angry with me,” Dev remarked even before her parents were out of sight.

  “Ya think?”

  “Come with me and I promise to make it all better.” He smiled gently.

  She was a horrible fiancée. He’d only asked to sit and talk with her and had waited hours for her to finish at the bridal salon. “Sorry,” she told him as they got into his car. “I get snappish when I’m tired.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  “And I’m certain I’ll have occasion to remind you.” She leaned her head back. “However, do not think I will be blackmailed every time you want to do something and I don’t.”

  “But it worked so well,” he responded dryly.

  Anji smiled. She’d made her point. And he’d made his. They would move forward. “Our families are so very happy.”

  “They each think they’ve gotten a prize.”

  “You know what, Dev? They have.”

  He glanced down at her. She saw affection in his gaze. It wasn’t burning passion, but, frankly, she couldn’t have handled burning passion right now. Warm fuzzies were just fine.

  But when Dev turned into the parking lot of the Wainright Inn, Anji felt disappointed. They’d just had lunch there. Couldn’t he have found a different place for their first dinner alone?

  She checked her watch. Four-thirty. A bit early for dinner, considering they’d finished lunch only three hours ago. But she had expressed concern about a late night when he’d said he wanted to talk.

  Fair enough.

  Except they walked right past the restaurant to the elevators.

  One was standing open. They walked in and Dev punched the button for the third floor, all without saying anything. He only smiled wearily and leaned against the wall of the elevator.

  “I didn’t know there was a restaurant up here,” Anji said.

  “There isn’t. I booked a private room.”

  He’d closed his eyes, otherwise Anji might have been nervous. She recognized that look. She didn’t need a mirror to know that her face wore the same look.

  Exhaustion. Bone-deep, I’ve-been-running-on-adrenaline-too-long exhaustion.

  Neither was at their best. What kind of meaningful exchange could they have?

  The elevator opened onto the third and highest floor. There were only four suites on this floor, including the bridal suite, Anji knew. It was where she’d be dressing on her wedding day.

  Dev gestured for her to precede him out of the elevator.

  He headed to the right, but Anji didn’t follow.

  Sure enough, he swiped the key card in the bridal-suite lock. He looked back at her. “Come on.”

  “No.” She punched the down button on the elevator.

  Dev blinked at her. Then, shaking his head as though to wake up, he ran his fingers through his hair and walked back to her. “Sorry. I should have explained. It was my attempt at a surprise.”

  “Oh, you don’t need to explain. Just because we—” she gestured vaguely “—we had a moment in the dressing rooms doesn’t mean that I’m going to hop into bed with you!” She was disappointed in him. Hugely disappointed.

  Dev chuckled tiredly. “Oh, now that is funny. Let me show you why.”

  Reluctantly, Anji followed him into the bridal suite. A bottle of red and a bottle of white wine chilled on a table set with a fruit-and-veggie tray with a bowl of hummus. A bread basket sat next to a silver Thermos. “It’s tomato soup,” Dev said. He ran his fingers through his hair once more and massaged the back of his neck. “I didn’t know if you preferred red or white wine, so I asked for a bottle of each.”

  “It depends on my mood and the weather.”

  He nodded, but didn’t offer her a glass.

  “I apologize. I see you were only securing privacy.” She sounded so stilted. Too much time with the relatives today.

  “That’s not all.” He took her hand and led her to the bedroom. “I’ve been thinking about us and how we’re always sleep deprived. I wanted to talk with you when we weren’t rushing to do something else, or surrounded by people, or ready to drop where we stood. And I wanted to give you a gift.” He gestured to the bed. “So, I’m giving you sleep.”

  “What?”

  The bed was already turned down for the evening, the sheets an ivory color that reminded her of the wedding dress. Slowly, she walked forward.

  “I splurged on really luxurious sheets and pillows and a blanket for us and had housekeeping make up the bed. The bed itself is a custom-built pillow top that only the suites have.”

  Did he realize he was waving food in front of a starving woman? Anji drew her hand over the sheets and felt the soft, silky cotton. And so many pillows. She could cocoon herself.

  “If we like it, we can order one of the beds for ourselves.”

  She heard him approach and stand next to her as she stared at the bed. Dev took her hand again. Once more, she felt the strength and confidence she’d felt the night they met. She squeezed back.

  “So, Anji, will you sleep with me tonight?”

  She started and tried to draw her hand away, but he wouldn’t let it go. “And I mean only sleep. Sleep, glorious sleep. Think of it. We both have tomorrow off. We can sleep for hours and hours with no one to wake us up. And then we can talk.”

  “You did all this for me?”

  “Yes. And, I’ll admit, for me, too.”

  She swayed. “But I don’t have my things.”

  His teeth shone whitely against his skin. “You do. Jenny helped me. There’s a bag in the bathroom and the hotel supplies robes.”

  Feeling like a zombie woman, Anji walked into the bathroom and saw the whirlpool bathtub. “Oh.”

  She was so easy. Seduced by the promise of glorious sleep and a relaxing soak.

  Dev picked up a shopping bag and handed it to her. Inside, she saw a toothbrush and toothpaste, along with various toiletries and a new set of her favorite lounging pajamas in a pale blue cotton knit. Jenny’s work.

  The gray set she had at home was all stretched out and full of little holes and she’d moaned about having to toss them when she married.

  There was a note in the bag, written on one of Jenny’s prescription pads. “You are so—” underlined three times “—lucky. Take twenty-four hours and call me in the morning. Love, Jenny.”

  Anji looked up at Dev, who was regarding her with his dark eyes, and felt a rush of affection. “I don’t think anyone has ever given me such a thoughtful gift before. Thank you.” She exhaled, feeling the tension already leaving her body.

  “You’ll stay?”

  She nodded. “You would have to drag me out.”

  He smiled and she noticed for the first time that she liked his smiles and that she hadn’t seen many of them. “I’ve already showered, so you can have the bathroom for as long as you like.”

  Anji looked at the tub. “Dev? Don’t wait up.”

  4

  HE HADN’T. When Anji emerged from the bathroom after her first bubble bath in more than ten years all limp and relaxed and swathed in her new pajamas and a thick terry-cloth robe, Dev was soundlessly asleep, sprawled on his stomach.

  He looked different without his glasses. Much younger. She had a difficult time reconciling this Dev with the man who’d revealed the sensual side of himself earlier.

  Yes. About that.

  She hadn’t forgotten—how could she?

  He’d made her aware. Aware of him. Aware of herself. And now she was curious.

  She studied Dev as he slept. Or studied what she could see of him. He wore a shirt and she assumed pajama bottoms. Honestly, they could walk around in public dressed this way and people wouldn’t give them a second look.

  She could see his face by the light of the lamp on her side of the bed. His skin was light, reminding her of tea-stained milk. He had a high forehead, a bold but well-shaped nose and generous lips. Kissable lips.

&
nbsp; She’d not taken the time to study the various features of his face this way, just that they worked together well.

  He’s quite good-looking, at least the left side of his face is.

  Did he find her attractive? She’d certainly done nothing to enhance her looks since she’d started her residency. In the mornings, she washed her face with soap, maybe slapping on a little moisturizer, maybe not, and pulled her hair into a messy lump that sat on the back of her neck. She’d given up wearing contact lenses because her eyes protested. Her only makeup was ChapStick, if that counted. On really special occasions she’d attempt to camouflage the ravages of too little sleep by swiping her cheeks with an ancient powder blush she still had. She suspected it didn’t help.

  And look at him. Men had it easy. All he had to do was shave and if he didn’t, some men could still get away with the stubbled look.

  She knelt down until their faces were on the same level and tried to imagine waking up with him in the mornings. Going to bed in the evenings. Making love with him.

  Anji conjured up her image in the fitting room and the way she’d felt when he’d asked her to imagine his hands on her. Her skin prickled. She felt warmth pool low in her belly and between her legs. Clinically, she knew this was sexual arousal. Physically, she wanted his hands on her right now.

  Such a specific desire was new to her, and Anji allowed herself time to experience it. She consciously relaxed her muscles and repeated the image in her thoughts…. Dev’s hands sliding up her rib cage and covering her breasts…Her breathing changed, became faster and deeper. She wanted to be touched and she wanted to be touched by Dev.

  Impulsively, Anji leaned toward Dev and very gently placed her lips on his. She liked the way he tasted and the way his mouth felt against hers. She felt pleasure and he wasn’t even doing anything. She was going to enjoy marriage. She lifted her head. She was going to enjoy Dev.

  Taking off the robe, Anji walked around to her side of the bed, turned out the light and climbed in beside him, the bed so large he barely moved.

  Her mother would be scandalized, but honestly, this was no different than sleeping in the physicians’ lounge with other residents when she was on call.