Hush (4 page)

“Sloane,” sighed Siva looking at me as I clung to his soft long sleeved cotton shirt.  My eyes scanned his body and I saw that he had changed into a plain cotton shirt and baggy pajama pants. He had never looked so delectable before.  His scent of sandalwood swirled in the air around us hypnotizing me. I traced his collarbone with my index finger. I felt his muscles stiffen beneath me and pulled away as if electrocuted.

“I’m sorry,” I said pulling away and keeping a secure hold on the towel. I tried to stand but it was futile as I sank back down into Siva’s lap.

His hand cupped my face and his thumb traced the shape of my cheek. His full lips parted slightly and pleasant sigh escaped. His lips hovered just out of reach of mine.

Just when he was about to close that miniscule distance his phone rang.

The spell was broken.

He jumped and answered it. He murmured a few words and then hung up. He sighed. “That was Dr. Fletcher. He’s almost here. We better get you dressed,” he said.

He cradled me like a groom carrying his bride over the threshold. I envied the girl that would one day be Siva’s bride.

He carried me into the bedroom and sat me on the soft cushiony bed.

He saw my clothes still sitting in my suitcase and proceeded to rummage through my articles of clothing. I blushed but him going through my clothes was nothing compared to him seeing my naked form curled up on the shower floor. Now
that
was embarrassing.

He sauntered back over to me with a pale blue cami and matching cotton shorts.

“Lift your arms,” he commanded.

“I can dress myself, Siva,” I said and tried to snatch the piece of fabric from his hands.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “Up,” he commanded. When I didn’t comply with his demands he sighed, “Sloane, I have already seen all there is to see. Now is not the time to be modest.”

I scrunched my nose at him but lifted my arms.

“Good girl,” he chuckled. “All though this is not at all how I planned on seeing you naked but hey, I’ll take what I can get,” he smirked. As he helped me into the shorts he sobered, “What happened in there, Sloane?”

I countered with a question of my own. “Why did you come in there?”

He sighed and ran his caramel colored fingers through his black hair. “I was worried about you. I stopped by to apologize but I heard the shower running so I left. When I came back an hour later it was still running. It scared me, Sloane. I thought-,” he gulped. “I thought you had done something drastic.”

I swallowed thickly, “You mean-
” I started.

“I thought you had committed suicide. I thought maybe the stress of the last two weeks had finally caught up with you,” he looked away and when his gaze met mine again his violet eyes had darkened. “I’ve never been more scared in my life than I was in that moment. I’ve had many reasons in my life to be frightened but I never felt it until now.” His long fingers tangled in my damp hair and he pressed his smooth forehead to mine. “Never do that to me again, Sloane. What happened?” he asked again.

I swallowed and looked away from his intense smoky violet gaze.

“Do you want the honest answer?” I asked and my voice was hoarse. No doubt I had given myself a cold.

“Always,” he said.

“I was upset when you stormed out on dinner. I just-” I looked away. “I have these feelings for you and I know I shouldn’t. You’re Dev’s brother and you’re way out of my league, anyway,” I laughed and sounded like a smoker. “I cried… I haven’t been able to cry since Dev died and finally my tears come but they’re for you!” I said and pointed to him.
“I loved Dev, still do, for three
years! How can I-” I choked up. “How can I have feelings for you? It’s wrong,” I said. “It’s like I’m betraying him.”

“Sloane,” said Siva thickly. “Dev would want you to be happy.”

“Do you think he’d want me to be happy with his messed up brother?” I laughed thickly.

Siva abruptly stood up. He glared down at me. “I may have my issues but I am not the monster my family makes me out to be! You don’t know the half of it!” he snarled.

Startled I scooted back on the bed. “Siva… that’s not what I meant.”

He turned around and glared at the door. “Dr. Fletcher will be here to see you soon.”

He stormed towards the door.

“Siva!” I called before the door promptly slammed shut.

I flinched.

* * *

The doctor flashed the light back and forth between my eyes and made a noise in the back of his throat. Siva sulked in the corner with his arms mournfully crossed over his chest. He refused to meet my eye.

He clucked his tongue and pulled out his stethoscope to check my heartbeat. Assured that it was fine he moved on to my blood pressure.

“All seems good,” he said. “You’ve just been under a lot of emotional stress is all,” said the gray headed man. He rubbed idly at his thick beard and began to run down a check list of questions.

“When was your last period?” he asked.

I blanched startled and looked at Siva. He was visibly grinding his teeth.

“Uh-,” I said, “I don’t remember.”

The doctor clucked his tongue.

“You’ve been under stress so I understand your lapse,” he dug in his bag and came up with a clear container. “I want you to go pee in this and then we’ll take a pregnancy test,” he said.

Heat flushed my cheeks. “I’m on birth control,” I muttered.

He shrugged his thin shoulders. “Accidents can still happen,” he said. “Better safe than sorry.”

I snatched the offending cup from his hands and marched into the bathroom. I only hoped I could pee with an audience on the other side of the door. After a few tense moments
I managed to fill the container.

I could not be pregnant. I was not ready to be a parent. I didn’t think it was possible anyway but I would placate the doctor and the doubts now racing on a speedway through my mind.

“Here,” I shoved the container into the doctor’s waiting hands. He promptly stuck a white stick in it.

Siva eyed me from across the room. The atmosphere in the room seemed to grow dark.

A few tense moments passed before the doctor said, “You’re not pregnant.”

“Thank God!” I said and threw my hands in the air. But suddenly I felt bad. I touched my empty womb. Dev’s child was not inside me, never would be.

“Well,” said the doctor, “you appear to be fine. You might get a bit of a cold but other than that I think you’re okay,” he said and smiled kindly.

Siva paid the doctor and he gathered his items and left.

“Siva,” I said quietly once the doctor left.

“Yes?” he asked turning to me.

I crossed my arms protectively over my chest. “Is it… Is it wrong of me to be relieved?”

Siva gave me a small smile and when he saw that I was about to collapse he wrapped me into his arms.

“No,” he said with conviction. “It’s not wrong. Don’t beat yourself up about this.”

I shook my head and sat down on the bed. Siva sat beside me but let go of me.

I looked up at him e
motion pooling in my gold eyes. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I honestly didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

“I know,” he sighed. “I overreacted. I tend to do that,” he added with a chuckle.

I rubbed my face, my eyes, “I better get to sleep,” I said quietly. “I have work tomorrow.”

“Of course,” he replied and his British accent made me want to melt. “I’ll see you for breakfast?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

He smiled a genuine smile. “Goodnight,” he said standing. He stooped low and planted a kiss on my cheek. With a laugh he disappeared out the door. I put my hand to my cheek. It tingled and I smiled to myself.

Chapter Three

I awoke before my alarm went off but I felt fully rested so I climbed out of the bed ready to begin my day. After my disastrous shower the night before I thought I’d be better suited to avoid that until later. I rummaged through my suitcase hoping to find my curling iron.

Aha! Found it.

I pulled the metal object out of my bag. Even in my haste to pack yesterday I had remembered it and my makeup bag. Hmm, maybe I could operate under stress.

I scurried into the bathroom and quickly curled my dark
, red-hued, hair into soft waves
that cascaded down my back. I dabbed on some makeup, enough to look professional, but not enough to look like a canvas.

I pulled out my black pencil skirt and a white, crisp, button down shirt. I tucked the shirt into the skirt and rolled the sleeves up to my elbows. I slipped on a pair of black heels that buckled at the ankle.

I grabbed my purse and realized that I didn’t have my messenger bag that contained my laptop. I put my head in my hands. This was bad. I needed my laptop for work. Maybe I could get a taxi and go by and get it before I left for work.

Yeah, if
Rajas hasn’t dumped all your s
t
uff
out the window yet.

I scrunched my nose in disgust. Well, there was nothing I could do yet.

I ventured out into the hallway and down the steps.  I could hear the sounds of sizzling bacon coming from the kitchen so I headed there.

Siva stood in front of the stove, his back to me, furiously cooking. He was tall and lean but not lacking in the muscle department.

“Morning,” I said.

Startled he turned, “Hey sunshine,” he said with a smile. “I hope eggs and bacon are okay?”

“Of course,” I said and took a seat on one of the stools.

“Good,” he grinned turning back to me.

“I didn’t know you cooked,” I said.

“I do,” he said. “Who did you think made your dinner last night?”

“Not you,” I said and he chuckled.

He grabbed the bacon out of the pan
with a pair of tongs and put an
equal amount of pieces on each of the two plates and then poured two glasses of orange juice.

Siva set a plate down in front of me, handed me a glass, and then sat down beside me.

He dug into his eggs. “Ready for work?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I sighed, “but I don’t have my laptop.”

“Oh?” he said quirking an inky brow. “Some of your stuff arrived this morning, the rest of your clothes and stuff like that, so your laptop should be with that. I had your furniture put into storage,” he said and sipped at
his orange juice.

“Thanks,” I said. “This is really good by the way,” I said indicating the breakfast.

“Thanks,” he said and blushed. “My mom taught me to cook.”

“Your mom?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he sighed but didn’t continue. I was curious about Siva and Dev’s mom. She was a mystery I wanted to solve.

We finished our meal in companionable silence and I cleaned our plates while Siva dried.

Dev and I used to that. I’d wash and he’d dry.

“I have to go,” I said suddenly turning to leave.
This was too hard. No, it was too easy, that was the problem. I shouldn’t feel this way about anyone so soon after Dev’s death.
But his brother?
I felt sick.

Siva turned and gave me a peculiar look. “Why? I know I didn’t say anything stupid this time.”

I gave him a tight lipped smile. “I just- I’m going to be late for work,” I lied.

Siva glanced at his watch and swore under his breath. “I didn’t realize the time. I have a meeting I have to get to. We better hurry,” he said.

I noticed he wore a pair of black pants that hung delectably off of his narrow hips and an aqua colored button down shirt. I found myself licking my lips as I took in his appearance.

“Come on,” he said and led me out to the foyer where many cardboard boxes sat. I saw my olive green messenger bag
leaning against one of the boxes
and sighed in relief. I grabbed it and slung it across my body.

Siva closed and locked the door behind us.

Siva pushed the button for the elevator and the doors promptly opened. I hurried in before the doors could close.

Once the doors closed the air around me sparkled with electricity. I glanced at Siva and saw that he was looking at me in a similar manner. I wanted to lean over and close the distance between us but just as I was about to move t
he elevator lurched to a stop in
the garage.

When the doors slid open the electricity immediately disappeared.

I followed Siva to the Porsche. I had barely closed the car door before Siva was racing out of the garage and onto the London streets.

Siva stopped in front of Avid News.

I didn’t bother to ask how he knew where I worked. I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know the answer.

“Bye,” I called over my shoulder as I climbed out of the car.

I ran up the gray stone steps and into the building.

“Hey Sloane,” said Mac as I slid into my seat.

I smiled and said, “Hey,” to the smiling Irishman.

“How are you doing?” he asked leaning over the partition that separated our desks.

“As well as can be expected I suppose,” I said pulling out my computer and booting it up.

He smiled. “Well, if you need anything, someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on, whatever it is, I’m your man,” said Mac.

“Thanks,” I said with a small smile.

MacAuley
“Mac” Grant had a thing for me. Ever since I started working here he had made his attraction known despite my relationship with Dev. He had finally accepted that we’d never have more than a friendship and had let it go. Now that Dev was gone I was sure Mac’s attentions would resurface. Yippee for me.

It wasn’t that he was a bad guy or bad looking for that matter he just wasn’t my type. He had shaggy, soft colored, brown hair and soft green eyes.  He had a sweet smile and boyish charm. But I had never found myself having any feelings for him other than those of a friend.

Mac winked at me and then settled back down at his desk.

My computer hummed to life and I quickly typed in my password. My wallpaper popped up and it was a picture of me and Dev on vacation in Rio. I sighed as I looked at our happy faces pressed lovingly together.

“Sloane,” said my boss stopping by my desk.

April Linwood was a slender, leggy, blonde and very good at her job. She was a kind boss and although she was critical of our work she always gave the best advice.

“Morning April,” I smiled pleasantly.

“Here’s your assignment,” she said.

“Thanks,” I said taking the folder from her.

She smiled and moved on. I opened the folder and sighed. April wanted me to write yet another article on some celebrity going to rehab. I wanted to write serious journalism not this celebrity trash. But you do what you have to do on your climb to the top. And this was the only job I could get. 

I looked back at my computer and sighed at th
e picture. I just didn’t have the
heart to change it. Dev had been so much a part of my life that it felt wrong to completely eradicate him.

I dove into writing the article with
fervor
. Celebrity gossip may not have been my forte but that didn’t mean I couldn’t make the best of it.

When lunch rolled around I realized that I hadn’t packed anything which meant I’d have to go out. I grabbed my purse and
leaned over the partition to Mac
.

“Hey,” I smiled. “I’m going out for lunch, be back soon.”

“Later,” he grinned, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back in his chair.

“Sloane,” called Franca, another writer. “Someone’s here for you,” she said and then waggled her eyebrows.

I looked back at Mac and gave him an apologetic smile.

Mac stood and made like he was going to the break room but I knew he really only wanted to see who was waiting for me. Quite honestly I did too.

I stopped when I reached the little seating area off the side of the break room.

“Siva,” I gasped and he grinned like a little boy.

Franca gasped from behind me. “Is that Siva Kapur?” she asked in an exaggerated stage whisper.

I turned to glare at her. When I turned back Siva’s grin was only broader.

Mac gave me a reproachful look and stormed away.

“Hi,” I smiled at him going to his side. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought we could do lunch?” he asked and for a moment he looked unsure of my answer.

“That would be lovely,” I said
,
color flooding my cheeks.

He smiled. “Good.”

I followed him out into the cool spring air. The Porsche was parked on the street.

Siva held the passenger door open for me and I slid in. He climbed in the driver’s side and pulled out into the traffic. I assumed he would be heading to one of the many restaurants in the area but instead he avoided all of them.

He finally came to a stop next to a park. He turned to me and grinned.

“I thought we could have a picnic.”

“That sounds wonderful,” I said.

He got out of the car, grabbed a green and blue plaid blanket, and a bag of food. I followed him through the park’s entrance while he looked for the perfect spot.

After a few minutes he veered off the path, into the green grass, laid out the plaid blanket and plopped down. I joined h
im, tucking my knees under me. My s
kirt road up a bit, exposing a bit more leg than I was comfortable with, I promptly pulled it down but not before Siva got an eye full.

I blushed from my neck up.

Siva turned away as if he too was embarrassed and began pulling out containers of food.

“I hope you like Thai?” he asked hesitantly.

“I love it,” I said opening a container and inhaling the aroma.

He opened a couple more containers and handed me a plastic fork and a bottle of water.

He leaned
back,
his legs stretched out and crossed over each other, and asked, “How has your morning been?”

“The usual,” I shrugged.

“You don’t sound pleased,” he commented in a quiet, subdued, voice.

I chuckled. “I want to be a serious writer not a g
ossip columnist.”

“Then why don’t you?” he asked taking a bite of noodles. One sat on his lips and my fingers itched to reach out and grab it.

I sighed. “I have to be able to pay the bills.”

“You should still try and live your dream,” he said softly.

“Maybe one day,” I said and looked out at the par
k. A couple walked their dog. Some
kids squealed in delight as their father chased them around. So many lives intertwined and yet we were all so separate stuck in our own little bubbles.

“I… I could help you,” he said so softly I wasn’t sure I had heard him.

I glanced at Siva and saw that he was awaiting an answer.

“Siva,” I began. “I don’t think so. I can do this on my own.”

“I have connections,” he said.

“I know,” I said. “That’s the problem.”

Siva laughed. “Sloane, I wouldn’t bribe someone to get you a job. But I could set up an interview and if you got the job it would all be on you,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

“I’ll think about it,” I said with a small smile and a quirk of my brow.

Satisfied he sat back. He took a sip of water and smiled to himself clearly pleased with my non-answer.

“So, Siva,” I said. “Tell me about yourself.”

He laughed harshly. “I don’t talk about myself.”

He promptly pulled out a cigarette stuck it between his lips and lit it. I reached over and snagged it from between his lips and put it out.

I pointed my index finger at him. “You will not suck on this death stick in my presence,” I huffed.

His violet eyes flashed black and I feared his dark mood would rear its ugly head but he surprised me by laughing. His booming laugh echoed off the bright green trees.

“Got it,” he chuckled. “No smoking in front of you.”

“Do you
want
to kill your lungs?”

“Of course not,” he replied smoothly and
laid
down on his back.  “But doesn’t everyone have a guilty pleasure?” He winked at me and turned on his side to face me. He propped his head up on his hand. “What’s yours?” he asked.

“I don’t have one,” I said.

“Oh come on,” he said, “I know you have one.”

“Purses.”

“Purses?” he clarified.