The Sari Shop Widow (26 page)

She stayed silent.

“What’ll it be, darling?” he prompted. “Yes or no?”

She rolled it around in her mind, examined it from various angles. He’d been involved with another woman until recently. Did he still have certain feelings for Samantha? Would he compare her to Samantha and find her lacking? On the other hand, he’d said he was getting serious about her, hadn’t he? What more did she want?

Rishi was gazing at her with those amazing eyes and she knew she was sinking. Fast. Maybe if she slept with him this once, she’d get him out of her system. Better yet, despite his apparent refinement there was the possibility he could turn out to be a lousy lover, and she’d discover he wasn’t the right man for her. Then she could kiss him good-bye without hurting like hell. “Okay, I’ll go with you.”

“You will?” He blinked, seemingly surprised.

“But what are we going to tell my family?”

“That we’re going out to our usual Sunday dinner and then a movie. We’ll tell them not to wait up for you. We’ll have to lie again, won’t we?” he said with a wink.

“You’re a very corrupting influence on me.” Then she thought of something. “Wait a minute. We can’t; we don’t have any…um…you know…” She meant to say
protection
but couldn’t. This was already beginning to get awkward. How was she going to handle the rest of the evening at this rate?

He chuckled, apparently reading her mind. “Nothing a trip to the hotel’s convenience store can’t resolve. Leave it to me.”

“Okay.” She should have known a smart and practical man like him would take such things in stride. But it all sounded so cold and clinical, like they were entering a formal pact of some kind, similar to the business contract they’d signed not too long ago, making them partners.

Nonetheless, in some ways tonight’s plan was indeed a short-term contract, especially the way he’d explained it.
Why don’t we take this relationship a little more seriously and see where it goes? Then we can both decide whether we want it or not
. Yep, it was a contract: a trial arrangement with room for negotiation if both parties were satisfied and wanted to extend it.

He turned off the lights and engaged the security system. In the parking lot, the brisk wind lifted her hair and tossed it in her face. Rishi raised a hand and brushed it back. “Feel like you’re facing an execution, Anju?”

“No. Why?” Her breath came out shaky, belying her words.

“Because you look like you do.”

“Sorry.” She tried to smile. “Nerves, I guess.”

“I understand.” He nudged her toward her car. “You’ll be all right, I promise.”

The thunder and lightning were still putting on a sound-and-light show but the forecast rain hadn’t arrived yet. She shivered a little when once again lightning ripped the sky, too close for comfort.

Climbing into her car, she waited for the sound of thunder to pass before cranking the engine. Her hands were trembling. She noticed Rishi was already behind his wheel and had the motor running. But he hadn’t moved. He was obviously waiting for her to go ahead of him so he could follow her to the hotel.

Well, Anjali, you may be on your way to heartbreak again,
she told herself.
After next week’s opening he’ll leave for London or Hong Kong or wherever and you’ll be left here in Jersey, pining away for a globetrotter whose first love is his business
. Was she prepared to leave herself vulnerable to that kind of hurt and desolation?

But she knew she couldn’t avoid Rishi if she tried. She was the fish that was hooked and getting reeled in quickly. The only difference was she wasn’t thrashing around resisting. She was stepping into this affair, or relationship, or whatever it was, with her eyes wide open. He’d made it clear he wasn’t holding a gun to her head. She was free to turn down his invitation and go home to her own bed.

But she wasn’t going to her own bed. She was going to his.

Chapter 21

I
n the hotel’s parking lot, Rishi parked his vehicle next to Anjali’s and glanced up at the sky. The first plump drops of rain were beginning to fall. It threatened to turn into a deluge within the next minute or two.

Alighting quickly and locking his vehicle, he went forward to open Anjali’s door. He noticed the taut look on her face.

“Are you all right?” he asked, taking her hand.

“I think so.” She shut the car door and hit the lock button on her key. A couple of raindrops landed on her face, making her blink. “Uh-oh.”

“We better get out of here,” he said, urgently tugging on her hand.

Together they raced across the parking lot and toward the entrance, trying to beat the swelling rain. Lightning split the sky once again, and the downpour started in full fury. The automatic glass doors parted and they barreled inside the building.

Rishi let out a low whistle as the crash of thunder assaulted their ears. “Now that’s what I call a right wicked storm. Reminds me of the beginning of the monsoon season in India.”

Anjali silently brushed the rain off her face and hair. The pinched look on her face still remained.

Well, at least they’d made it inside the hotel in the nick of time, reflected Rishi with some relief. They’d beaten the worst of the rain. He handed Anjali his key card. “Go ahead and wait for me in the suite. I’ll be right up.”

“Thanks.” Her eyes were on the floor. She seemed reluctant.

Maybe she was rethinking her decision about coming here with him, and she was embarrassed on top of it. “Just a few minutes and I’ll join you straightaway,” he assured her. Unfortunately he had to make that very essential stop at the hotel’s convenience store. He wondered if she’d behaved like this with Rowling. Somehow he doubted it. He’d seen her with that man briefly and he hadn’t noticed anything like this undecided woman standing before him.

“I’ll give your parents a ring and tell them not to wait up,” he told her.

“Thanks.”

That was the second time she’d thanked him for trivial reasons. She was definitely wound tight. He’d have to find a way to relax her. “Go on, Anju,” he said gently. He watched her walk toward the elevator before he turned to go to the store.

Inside the convenience store, he found there were no other customers. Thank goodness. He hoped they had what he needed. The rain was now pounding and he didn’t want to go looking for a drugstore.

He stood on the threshold and looked in all directions for the appropriate aisle for condoms. He hadn’t made such a purchase in years. It was a bit awkward.

But it was a good thing Anju had mentioned it. He was so anxious to have her that he hadn’t stopped to think of the consequences.

Samantha was permanently on the pill and he hadn’t had to worry about anything as mundane as birth control. Besides, he reflected, Samantha wasn’t one to be caught with an unwanted pregnancy. She was neither maternal nor willing to give up her career and freedom for anything, least of all a child.

But now he’d met Anju and come to know her. He was astonished to find a woman who in some ways still grieved for her late husband, so many years after his death. It meant she was capable of loving wholeheartedly and remaining faithful. That wounded look in her eyes obviously came from losing Vikram. The thought brought a pinprick of jealousy with it. Rishi promptly dismissed it. How foolish was it to be jealous of a dead man?

Despite her affair with Kip Rowling, Rishi was convinced Anjali was a fiercely loyal woman who was only satisfying the basic human need for intimacy. Even Rowling was someone she’d hooked up with after many long years of celibacy—an insanely long time for a healthy young woman. Her involvement with Rowling was entirely understandable, he reasoned.

Although he’d felt a powerful attraction to her since the day they’d met, it was only after he’d kissed her in his hotel room that he’d realized how much he wanted her—in his bed, in his life. The need for a more stable lifestyle with a wife and home had crept up on him stealthily.

As he strode through one of the aisles, he noticed boxes of diapers, feeding bottles, and various other baby needs. A baby. How would it feel to be a father? What would it be like to share in the miracle of making and then raising a tiny human being? The image was very alluring.

He tried to blink the picture out of his mind and kept walking. It was too soon to see that far into the future. He had a few major hurdles to overcome before he could think of
that
.

Was he falling in love with Anju? It had to be love if he thought about her constantly, and was visualizing marriage and children with her. Whatever it took to do it, he’d make her feel the same thing he was.

He’d make her fall in love with him, he promised himself.

When he made love to her, he’d take it slow, discover every little nuance about her and revel in it. He would love her like nobody ever had, not even her late husband. He’d wipe her mind clean of every other man she’d been with, until there’d be only he.

He knew he could do it.

It was a minute before he noticed the condoms displayed on a shelf next to the cash register. After making his selection he paid the young man behind the counter as quickly as he could. With a polite thank you he hurried out of the store, tucking the package into his jacket pocket. There was no gracious and discreet way of buying something like condoms.

As he strode toward the elevators, he realized a man of his experience should be above feeling embarrassment at such things. In Anju’s words, he’d “been around the block” a few times.

Inside the elevator, he remembered his promise to Anju and pulled out his cell phone to call her parents. He explained to Usha that he and Anju were going to grab some dinner and then take in a movie.

As expected, Usha sounded a little surprised about the movie, especially because of the wretched weather. But thankfully she didn’t ask any questions. And Rishi didn’t offer any explanations. Lying was complicated enough without having to provide details.

Upstairs in the suite, Anjali took off her jacket and dropped it on one of the chairs in the sitting area. Her palms were damp with perspiration. Her heartbeat was racing. Placing a hand on her chest, she tried to still her anxious heart. She felt like a teenager anticipating her first taste of sex.

She glanced around the room. What was she doing here, in Rishi’s suite? At her age it should have been anything but this. Was he feeling the same way or was this pretty much routine for him? But then, the fact that he didn’t already have something like condoms on hand said he wasn’t the type of guy who was ready and prepared for sex at a moment’s notice. It also meant he hadn’t taken her consent for granted. That said something about his character.

Finding it impossible to sit down, she paced the length of the room. If anything, it made her even edgier. She went to the window, parted the drapes, and took a peek outside. The sheeting rain was so thick and impenetrable she could barely see a foot beyond the glass. Luckily she and Rishi had managed to avoid its full fury. Rain-soaked clothes would have compounded her anxiety.

She turned away from the window and wiped her hands on the seat of her slacks. Her pulse hadn’t slowed down one bit. This was pathetic. If Rishi didn’t get here quickly, she’d probably have a heart attack. Had he found what he was looking for, or did he have to go out in this flood to find a drugstore?

Just then she heard the door opening and turned around.

Rishi stepped inside and took one look at her face. “Still nervous?”

She nodded. Actually, nervous didn’t even begin to describe her jitters.

He took off his jacket and tossed it on top of hers on the chair. Then he gathered her in his arms and buried his face in her hair. “Don’t be tense, darling. I’m right here with you.”

She clutched at the front of his shirt. “I know.”

“You’re shaking. Do I frighten you that much?”

“No. I’m just a little jumpy, that’s all.”

“Relax. It’s me—someone you know well.” He kissed the top of her head. “You’re not a virgin, Anju. We’re both experienced adults and we’re friends. This isn’t some cheap one-night tryst between strangers.”

“I know, but this feels kind of different.”

He lifted her chin with a finger, forcing her to face him. “How?”

“It’s hard to explain.”

His eyes narrowed on her. “Because your emotions may be involved in this relationship?”

“Perhaps,” she murmured, swallowing to keep her throat from drying out.

“Then it’s a good thing. A little nervousness means you care.” He didn’t wait for her response, but wound his arm around her waist and ushered her into the bedroom. “I have an idea. Since you’re so stressed, why don’t I pour us some wine?”

“Wine sounds good.” It would give her a few minutes to prepare herself. The alcohol would help. Her mouth felt parched and hot.

She watched him step outside the bedroom. Noticed the limp. And yet he remained on his feet for hours. He was quite a man. A few minutes later he returned with two stem glasses filled with a deep red wine. His sleeves were rolled up. The two top buttons on his shirt were undone, offering her a glimpse of his upper chest, a striking expanse of smooth skin over taut muscle, with a sprinkling of dark hair.

Gratefully she took her glass. He tapped his glass against hers in a toast and sat down on the edge of the bed. “To us. To this evening.”

“I’ll drink to that.” She sat down beside him and took a fortifying sip. It was excellent wine, not too dry, and the flavor was mild and nutty. “This is delicious. What is it?”

“It’s a French Merlot. It’s a good vintage, too.”

He probably knew a lot about wines. And he was right about its soothing quality. After several sips, she felt the tension ebb from her shoulders and her heartbeat return to a more normal rhythm. The alcohol was going straight into her bloodstream because she hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. Rishi was beginning to look even more seductive as he gazed at her with his rain-dampened hair and that look of longing on his face. The wine seemed to be relaxing him, too.

Slowly he removed the glass from her hand and put it on the bedside table, then placed his empty one next to hers. “Feel better?” he asked.