A Perfect Mismatch (12 page)

“I am sorry that I hurt you.” Armaan said as he pulled her close into his arms and held her in a warm hug that melted her defenses completely. He sat with her on his lap close to his hammering heart for a long while in absolute silence.

Then he rose and pulled her up with him towards the wide ornate dressing table. In the silvery darkness, he held her gaze in the reflection as he ran a hand though her luxurious hair and smiled. Zara felt her heart snagged along like a kite riding high on the wind. Stepping closer from behind, he ran his hands down her hips and pulled her into him. She took a shaky breath when her satin hair was brushed away as he kissed the sensitive skin of her exposed neck. Her eyes turned glazed and she breathed deeply as his mouth traveled down the slope of her shoulder while he tugged away the lapels of the robe. He felt her tremble when he slid his warm hands into the pyjama top along the satin skin of her tummy. Slowly he pushed the robe off her shoulders and let it fall away. His hands worked on the buttons with quick efficiency. Armaan held her gaze in the mirror wanting to see every little change in those fabulous silver pools. He reached the last button and parted the material.

Pleasure coursed through Zara when his hands covered
her breasts. She leaned back, unable to stand straight as he touched and caressed, murmuring something incoherent about how beautiful she was. Then he turned her around fiercely, to pull her close in a kiss that touched her soul. She moaned deeply. His kisses turned fiery while his hands removed her clothes one by one. She swayed as he stepped away to stare at her gloriously naked form. His harsh breathing told her that he was holding on to his control by a thread. She watched him awestruck as he quickly got rid of his shirt and shorts. They simply looked at each other in the darkened room in the silvery light coming through the windows.

Zara felt his hungry gaze slide over her from head to toe, as intimate as a touch. Armaan reached up to caress her lips with his thumb and bent to kiss her again. It made her tummy hollow and she would have sunk to the floor had he not pulled her close. Folded into his arms skin to skin, the taste of heaven was too much to bear as he touched, kissed, and caressed every silken inch of her with a slow precision that had her crying out in pleasure. She gave in to his hands when they touched all the secret places, his devouring mouth following suit. She arched her back as he bent his head to suck at a breast and spread an appreciative hand over her lower belly, to sink his fingers into the hot wetness between her thighs. Zara speared her eager fingers through his tumbled hair, as he knelt in front of her to kiss her navel and down the apex of her thighs. She gasped and stopped him, noticing the harsh lines etched on his face that told her he was just as affected as her.

Whispering into the velvet darkness, Zara said that she wanted to touch him too. Zara explored to her heart’s content, learning and memorizing the hard plains and contours for the first time. She gave in to the fierce urge to touch everywhere, spread her eager innocent hands on his wide shoulders, kiss the softness under the sharp line of his jaw, the tight pectorals, the smooth back, and the smattering of curly hairs on the hard thighs. His skin felt like warm velvet to her mouth as she learned what gave him pleasure. He stopped her more adventurous exploration with an oath, hoarsely saying that he might fall through if she kept up with this. Subduing her protests with a hard kiss, he picked her up and took her to bed, renewing the onslaught on her senses.

When it became too much to bear Armaan asked in a cracked voice if she were ready. In answer, she pulled him down on top of her, wrapping herself around him. She sighed as he entered her with one gentle thrust, linking his hands with hers tightly. Armaan made it slow, intense and breathtaking for her. He wanted to erase the memory of the previous time forever, making this her first. However, he could not remain detached from the pleasure Zara was giving him, writhing under him for the ultimate fulfillment. He lost control when she cried out his name. Fulfillment was deep and satisfying and rocked them both with its intense searing heat without the thought …
that this was anything but permanent.

Zara hugged him fiercely as Armaan slumped over her. “Thank you!” she whispered huskily into his ear holding
him tight to her chest. She wanted to savour every moment before it was lost to her. A time would come, she knew, when she would regret this decision. The price of heaven was indeed going to be heavy. But at this moment she was too full of gratitude for the small blessing she had received. It encompassed the thirst to be accepted and tonight she had inched a little closer to that feeling.

Armaan was deeply affected when she kissed him with all her heart as if he was the most precious thing to her. Somehow, the feeling was mutual. He vaguely felt the stirrings of alarm that he was treading on unknown, dangerous ground. He brushed the disturbing thought aside and rolled with her on top of him kissing her gently on her forehead. They lay satiated and truly happy for the first time in each others’ arms as husband and wife.

The sounds of the birds through the latticed window woke him up. Armaan was an early riser but today was earlier than usual. The events of the night before played in his mind like the sweetest violins and he had never, ever been the least bit romantic. It was still dark outside. He looked at the woman sound asleep across his chest. His heart was pounding unnaturally, as he thought of the generous way she had felt and responded beneath him last night. Bathed in the moonlight she had been beautiful, every inch of her had been stunningly perfect … It had been pure magic and he had never believed in it before.

Armaan did not believe it would last though. Give it another few days and the novelty would wear off. The cynical thought, nevertheless, failed to dampen his high
spirits. He gazed down at her in awe and marveled at the sheer power of their coming together the night before. His hands spread through the silken hair, running his fingers through them touching her bare shoulder, down her smooth back and curved around her hip. He dropped a feather light kiss on her brow. Zara did not stir and he smiled. They had dozed off only a few hours back.

On an impulse, he shifted her gently off his chest and laid her head on the pillow. She stretched and rolled over in her sleep without waking up. He watched her lying there without the usual self-conscious air. The blankets had slithered off and only half covered her hip leaving the rest of her body bare to his hungry gaze. The night lamp played on her generous curves with shadows enhancing her gorgeous body, her silken tresses trailing over the pillows, her face replete and yet innocent.

Quickly before she could stir in her sleep, before he could be tempted to wake her up himself to make love to her again, he pulled on his boxers, unearthed his drawing board and water colours from his suitcase. He set to work until dawn finally broke through the stained glass aperture in the slanting roof of the cottage. He rose to open the windows to let in the fresh air and sunlight. He was giving the final touches to the painting when Zara rolled over on to her stomach and raised her head sleepily to notice him busy with the painting. She rose, put on her robe and sat next to him quietly. Her sudden indrawn breath made him turn to look at her questioningly.

“You painted me?” asked Zara, her voice husky with wonder and sleep.

“Why are you surprised?” Armaan began to clean up his palette, dropping the brushes into clean water.

She looked at the painting with the open curiosity of a child. “I look so different.”

“That is because you are not self-conscious about your body in sleep.”

Armaan saw her clutch at her robe, suddenly shy. Her eyes were drawn to the painting again.

“But … you make me look …” she struggled for the right word.

“Both sensual and serene?” he provided, taking her hands, kissing the soft palms.

She smiled. “You make me look beautiful! There is an old world charm to this work which seems different from your other paintings.”

“You recognize that?” He was surprised that she had noticed the subtle difference in this one and his other drawings. “You are beautiful and I had to paint you this way. How do you know that this is different from my other work?”

Zara felt the colour rush to her face. “A friend from the office had invites to the Souza exhibition. I found that you were exhibiting the next week among the Artists Guild. I saw a couple of your exhibitions at Dhoomimal last year. I was passing by and was curious! I wanted to return for the third part of the Symbolic Art’ Series, but had an auditing tour that week.” She didn’t tell him that she had wanted to have a glimpse of him.

He kissed her lips, pulled her closer and the kiss grew deeper. She broke away breathlessly. “After last night … I
can’t believe that you haven’t noticed that I seriously need to reduce some weight.”

“That is exactly why you are beautiful, Zara,” he said, kissing the delicate skin on her throat while his hands slid the robe apart at her lap caressing a thigh. “You are like the renaissance paintings by the great masters of art. Your skin has the sheen and luster that a thin emaciated woman would crave. And seriously, your beauty lies in the way you carry yourself and not in how much you weigh. You are curvy enough to make me lose my head that night at the lodge. I have never fought so hard to protect myself as I did then!”

Zara laughed a clear sound of happiness and disbelief. “Enough! This is embarrassing! You can’t expect me to believe all that. You had better stop before I begin to have unhealthy intentions about joining the Miss Universe contest. Got to keep my head tightly screwed on for emergencies!” She sighed and continued on a quieter note, “You didn’t think like this earlier and I am not so stupid to think that I changed overnight into a celebrated beauty! So what happened to change your mind? I was the frumpy, ugly Zara until yesterday! I distinctly remember being berated for the way I looked on the engagement day.”

Armaan tightened his arms around her. He would make sure that it never happened again. She was beautiful enough for him and no one would dare say a word against his wife in his presence.

He ignored the little voice of restlessness that began to gnaw at him for the sudden burst of loyalty to Zara. He pacified himself saying that Zara deserved his support.

“On our engagement day you were dressed inappropriately. I thought you were doing it deliberately to torture me when you had a better option to wear.” He bent to kiss her again and said with a wicked grin, “Yes, I was just looking for an excuse to dislike you. But it is a fact that you have a terrible dressing sense and I will make sure that you burn your wardrobe as soon as possible.”

Zara chortled at his threat and he kissed her soundly to dispel any doubts about his intentions.

His voice lowered into a husky tone. “However, you do look gorgeous, very graceful and elegant in a sari! I thought I would fall flat on my nose when I saw you stepping down from heaven on our wedding day!” he said, finally paying her that compliment that had hovered in his thoughts every time he had seen her in that garment.

Her smile was gloriously happy. A thought dimmed her joy momentarily. “I am sorry about the engagement fiasco! I had an argument with Bani who accused me of inveigling you into the marriage. To spite me, she poured ink over my new dress. I didn’t have the time or anything appropriate in my wardrobe to wear. That dress had been gifted with a lot of affection once and it became my only hope.”

Armaan had a thunderous look on his face, “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Who would have believed me? Not my aunt! Certainly not you! It was too late. I didn’t trust anyone enough to explain matters,” Zara laid her head on his chest.

Armaan held her close and swore that he would never allow her to be subjected to such humiliation. At the back of his mind, he heard his own cynical laughter at the
thought. He was beginning to lose perspective. None of this was permanent so why this sudden need to protect his temporary wife? He shoved the thought aside and cradled her into his chest. He would think about it later, he decided.

Armaan wanted to know a few other things. “Was last night completely satisfactory to change your mind about me?” He needed to know that she did not regret her decision.

Zara burrowed her face into his chest. “It was better than my fantasies.”

For a moment, Armaan thought that he had not heard correctly and he framed her face with his palms to look at her. “Your fantasies?”

Zara realized in dismay that it was no use denying it when she had already let it out. She cleared her throat, bit her lip, and fumbled, “I … um … you were the object of my juvenile affections.”

“You had a crush on me!” he exclaimed, astonished.

She hurried on, lest he get the wrong idea and drop her like hot coals. “I grew out of it long back so you needn’t worry about my heart breaking when we decide to terminate this arrangement.”

Armaan felt elated. But the last statement doused his enthusiasm more than he cared to admit. “You had a crush on me and you never let me know! All that display of fireworks was mere eyewash!”

It was his turn to chortle in glee and Zara raised her eyebrow in mock severity.

“Can’t keep your male ego out of it now, can you?” She wagged a warning finger at him, “You better not tattle about it to anyone. It is a wonder Bani hasn’t murdered me yet for taking away her bowl of cream, from right under her claws!”

He lifted her off her feet and settled her gently on the bed against the pillows, “The bowl of cream, as you put it, was never hers to have.” His dark head descended to kiss her thoroughly. The roaming, inquisitive hands untied her robe deftly to slip inside the lapels, dispelling any doubts about ownership both ways. It was more than enough for the time being, thought Zara, deliriously giving in to burgeoning pleasure, as his head dipped between her breasts.

A week later, they boarded the flight to Delhi. The honeymoon trip was over even before Zara could figure out what had hit her. She realized that time disappeared into nothingness when they were not quarreling. They had their little skirmishes over silly things but those were merely ripples on the surface. They had visited several other places and spent the rest of the time in exploring the surroundings.