Twelve Hours of Temptation (14 page)

‘It’s good to see you too,’ she said as graciously as she could, doing her damnedest to channel Maya Kumar. Strong, smiling, with a core of steel. She gave a yelp of alarm and jumped backwards as he bent his head to brush his lips lightly against her cheek. Okay, now she was channelling Chihuahua, not Maya, and passersby were giving her funny looks.

‘Should we find some place we can sit down?’ he asked, his lips curving up in his trademark half devilish, half little-boy way.

‘There’s a small restaurant a little way down the road,’ she said, a little breathless. ‘Not swanky, but we can talk there.’

She turned and started walking towards it, hoping she didn’t trip and fall flat on her face in her agitation. The worst part was not knowing
why
he was here—perhaps all he wanted to do was have a civilised conversation before they called it quits on their relationship. Then again, maybe not. The way he’d looked at her suggested that he wanted to do a lot more than just talk—his dark eyes had smouldered into hers in true romantic hero style. Though this time she’d been too rattled to tease him about it. Instead, she’d lowered her head and done her best to memorise the cracks in the pavement.

Samir fell into an easy stride by her side. ‘Congratulations on the story,’ he said. ‘I just finished reading it. I don’t know what to say, Melissa—it was brilliant. I had no idea you could write so well.’

It was ridiculous to feel so pleased. She knew that. Trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, she said, ‘Thanks. All credit to Maya, though—she put me in touch with the magazine. Left to myself, I’d have decided the story wasn’t good enough to send anywhere.’

‘I’m glad you met Maya, then,’ he said. ‘Though I still haven’t forgiven her for stealing you away from Maximus.’

‘From Mendonca’s,’ she corrected. ‘We’re here—the red door is the place we need to go. It serves the best Indian-Chinese food in the city.’

They stepped into the unassuming little restaurant and found an empty table in a corner.

Samir waited while the server plonked two menus in front of them and wandered off, and then asked bluntly, ‘Why did you leave? Was it because I invited someone else to that party?’

Melissa bit her lip. ‘No,’ she said. ‘That wasn’t it. I just thought it wasn’t working any more.’

‘Why?’ he asked, leaning forward. ‘We might have had a few issues, but we could have worked those out. What was so bad that you had to leave?’

‘Sir—order?’

Samir looked up in exasperation, but the little waiter refused to budge. The restaurant managed to keep its prices low by keeping the turnover high—one thing it absolutely didn’t encourage was people dawdling around, occupying tables and staring into each other’s eyes without ordering anything.

‘Ask for either the chilli chicken or the Idli Manchurian,’ Melissa prompted. ‘And a diet soda for me.’

‘Idli Manchurian?’ he said in disbelief. ‘What is that?’ As was usual with Melissa, the conversation was slipping off into a direction he hadn’t planned.

Melissa gave him a lopsided grin. ‘Idlis rice cake, sliced up, dipped in cornflour, fried and tossed in Manchurian gravy.’

‘I wasn’t really asking for the recipe.’

‘Oh, it tastes great,’ she said. ‘Though there’s enough garlic in it to ward off an invading army of vampires.’

Samir shuddered. ‘We’ll have the chilli chicken,’ he told the waiter. ‘And two cans of soda.’

He gave Melissa a wry look once the boy had zipped off into the kitchen. ‘This isn’t exactly the right place for an uninterrupted conversation, is it?’

No, that’s why I chose it
, Melissa thought. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said out loud, more Aunty Liz than Maya Kumar this time. ‘But there are no fancy places around here. We’ll have to make do with this.’

Samir was about to reply when the boy waiter returned with a large bottle of soda and two glasses which, going by the state of his sleeves, he had just rinsed in the sink.

‘Soda,’ he announced proudly, and Samir sighed.

‘Thank you,’ he said, pushing the bottle across to Melissa.

‘So I was asking.’

‘Chilli chicken dry or with gravy?’ his nemesis asked, popping out of the kitchen.

‘Dry,’ Melissa called out, suppressing an involuntary giggle as Samir sank his head into his hands in exasperation.

‘Spicy or medium spicy?’ the boy asked.

Samir gave him a look, and he promptly vanished back into the kitchen, saying as he went, ‘Medium spicy better for you, I think.’

‘You know what? Let’s cut to the chase,’ Samir said. ‘I’ve been a self-centred pig and I’ve probably ruined my chances with you, but I just need you to answer one question.’

Melissa looked at him, her eyes wide.

‘Is there any way you would consider marrying me?’

Her answering gasp was loud enough to make diners at the other end of the restaurant turn around to stare at them.

‘Of all the...’ She was sputtering in anger now, but Samir was leaning back, his dark eyes dancing with amusement.

‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ he said. ‘If it was an unequivocal no you’d have been much nicer to me. Come on—let’s go.’

He was on his feet already, and before she knew what was happening she was standing next to him, still clutching her bottle of soda.

‘We won’t be needing that chilli chicken after all,’ Samir informed the diminutive waiter as he put a five-hundred-rupee note into his hand. ‘Madam has some really important work to do.’

The boy flushed with pleasure as he pocketed the money, and Samir swept her out of the restaurant.

‘But...where are we going?’ Melissa asked, thoroughly confused now.

‘Some place where I can propose to you properly,’ Samir said. They were already in his car, and he turned to look at her, his eyes warm with suppressed desire. ‘And some place where I can kiss you the way I want to.’

‘Hang on,’ Melissa said.

Samir turning all masterful on her was an incredible turn-on, but she needed to know what was happening.

‘A month back you weren’t sure you wanted to be with me. Then I walked out, and you suddenly want to marry me?’

‘I always wanted to marry you,’ he said, starting the car and turning onto the road. ‘I just wasn’t sure it was the sensible thing to do.’

‘What’s changed then?’ she asked.

Samir shrugged. ‘Nothing major,’ he said. ‘Except that I’ve figured out I can’t live without you.’

The words were said in such a matter-of-fact way that for a second she thought he was being flippant. Then she saw that his hands had tightened on the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles had turned white. It must have taken considerable effort for him to say that, she realised, especially since he was normally so restrained. And he hadn’t said the words, but the implication that he was in love with her was pretty loud and clear—people didn’t say they couldn’t live without you if they were only mildly fond of you.

And, come to think of it, she was finding it pretty hard to live without him as well.

‘Let’s go to your flat,’ she said, her voice sure and steady for the first time that evening.

She was having a bit of an epiphany, she realised. She’d got it wrong all along—fooled by Samir’s apparent coolness into thinking that he didn’t care for her. But now that she thought back she realised that right from the beginning he’d been the one trying to make the relationship work, while she’d fought her feelings at every step. They’d been at cross purposes all along.

They were both silent till they were inside the door—then Samir pushed it shut behind them and took her into his arms, the raw hunger on his lips matched by the passion on hers.

It was a while before he released her, saying raggedly as he pushed a hand through his hair, ‘God, I love you so much. I was crazy to think this was just about the sex—I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Mel.’

‘So do I,’ Melissa said, putting up a hand to caress his face and stealing a quick kiss before she went on. ‘Spend the rest of my life with
you
, I mean, not myself.’

The rest of what she’d meant to say was lost as he crushed her lips under his in a kiss that managed to be hot and hungry and wildly passionate all at the same time. A little moan escaped Melissa’s lips as she finally abandoned herself to the tide of sensation that was sweeping over them both.

Much later, he said softly, ‘I was all kinds of fool to say what I did about replacements. I should have known better—I was just so worked up about you refusing to come with me that I let my mouth run away with me.’

Melissa gave the offending mouth a consoling kiss. ‘I wasn’t thinking straight either,’ she said. ‘I’d overheard you talking to your mum a few days before that, and I thought you felt I wasn’t good enough for you. You even said you weren’t in love with me.’

Samir frowned. ‘When did I say that?’

‘The day your mother called on the home phone and I spoke to her. You called her back from the car park—I’d gone for a jog, and I couldn’t help hearing you. You said you needed to sort things out with me...’

His brow cleared. ‘That was a long while back,’ he said. ‘I already knew I didn’t want to let you go, but I hadn’t got around to figuring out that I was in love with you. We hadn’t discussed marriage. And my mother tends to get a little ahead of the situation at times. When things didn’t work out with Shalini she was perhaps even more upset than I was.’

Seeing that Melissa looked puzzled, he went on.

‘She lost a lot of her family in a militant strike around the time we left Kashmir. So it’s her dream to have a large family again—both her sons married, lots of grandchildren, the works. If she’d known things were even remotely serious she’d have had us kidnapped and taken to the nearest registry office before we could change our minds. But I promise you—the second I get a ring on your finger, she’ll be the first person I’ll tell.’ He bent his head and planted a little row of kisses on her shoulder. ‘And you’ll need to speak to your dad as well.’

‘He’ll want us to have a church wedding,’ she said. ‘And bring up our kids as good Catholics.’

‘If the priest doesn’t mind performing the ceremony I don’t mind,’ Samir said. ‘As for the kids—they can grow up and decide what they want to be.’

‘Very permissive,’ Melissa said teasingly, but a great load was off her shoulders.

Samir wasn’t done yet, though.

‘There was another thing I wanted to tell you,’ he said. ‘I mayn’t have come across as being very supportive of your career or your writing. Maybe I was a little jealous of the time you were spending away from me. But I’ll back you every step of the way from now on. You’ve got real talent, and you deserve every possible bit of support I can give you.’

Melissa nestled a little closer to him. ‘Even if I bunk off your incredibly boring office dos to write?’ she asked.

‘Even if you do that,’ he said. ‘I’ll probably bunk off them as well and stay home to watch you.’ His expression turned serious, and he cupped her face in his hands, tipping it up so that he could look directly into her eyes.

‘I love you,’ he said. ‘Corny as it may sound, I’ll love you till the day I die.’

‘In some situations corny is good,’ she said, and she met his gaze squarely. ‘I love you too, Samir. And I’d love to marry you, and grow old and cranky with you, and have several kids.’

The last bit came out all muffled against his lips, and Melissa gave up the attempt to outline the path she wanted the rest of their lives to take. She loved him, and he loved her back, and right now that was all that mattered.

EPILOGUE

The wedding was
in Goa, in a little church near Melissa’s childhood home. They’d had a big Hindu wedding first in Delhi, followed by a register office ceremony, but to Melissa exchanging their vows in the church she’d gone to for all her growing up years was the most important of the series of ceremonies.

‘You look beautiful,’ Cheryl said, carefully adjusting Melissa’s veil. ‘I’m so glad you decided to wear your mamma’s wedding sari.’

The sari was made of lovely white brocade, and Melissa had insisted on wearing it instead of an elaborate wedding gown of the kind popular in the current generation. A single perfect strand of pearls gleamed at her throat—they were one of Bina Razdan’s many gifts to her brand-new daughter-in-law. With her silky hair piled up in a chignon, Melissa looked like a graceful young queen.

‘I wish Mamma could have been here,’ Melissa said softly as her sister-in-law gave the veil a final tweak and stepped back to admire her handiwork.

Cheryl bent down and gave her a hug. ‘I’m sure she can see you,’ she said. ‘And that she thoroughly approves of that gorgeous man you’re marrying.’

Melissa’s father was waiting for her at the door of the church, and as they slowly walked down the aisle Melissa’s eyes sought out Samir’s. He looked incredibly handsome in his dark formal suit, and his eyes lit up as she reached him. Cheryl was right, Melissa thought with a sudden rush of pride. He
was
gorgeous—and, better still, he was all hers.

‘Have I told you yet how much I love you?’ he whispered as they took their places in front of the parish priest.

‘Many times,’ Melissa whispered back. ‘But I have short-term memory issues—you’ll need to keep telling me every so often.’

‘Shh...’ Melissa’s father said, smiling at them fondly.

He’d taken an abrupt liking to Samir, and that had helped heal things further between him and Melissa. It was as if the whole episode with Josh and the two years after that had never happened at all.

The ceremony was performed by the young parish priest who’d encouraged Melissa’s father to reach out to her. In his early thirties, and almost as good-looking as the bridegroom, he was attracting languishing stares from the younger female members of the congregation—his attention, however, was solely focussed on the couple in front of him.

When he said, ‘You may now kiss the bride,’ there was a mixture of sighs and gasps from the audience.

Melissa suspected that if they hadn’t been in a place of worship people would have whistled and stamped their feet. Then Samir’s lips came down on hers, and for a few seconds she forgot about audience reaction as the world closed in to accommodate just the two of them.

When they broke away a minute later her cheeks were flushed and her heart-rate twice what it had been when she’d entered the church. ‘Not fair,’ she muttered under her breath, and Samir smiled at her, his expression so openly and radiantly happy that she felt her heart miss a beat.

‘I love you,’ he said once again, and though he kept his voice low it was strong enough to be heard by the people in the front pew. ‘She has short-term memory issues,’ he explained to the priest, who had paused to grin broadly at them. ‘I need to keep reminding her.’

* * *

‘Welcome to the family,’ Samir’s father said, beaming as he raised a toast to them at the lunch that followed the wedding.

His mother gave them a lovely smile, and Melissa thought for the nth time since she’d met Samir’s parents that she’d been so completely off the mark when she’d thought that they wouldn’t accept her. Ever since she’d met them they’d gone out of their way to make her feel she was part of the family. So much so that she’d had to be careful not to offend them when she’d insisted on doing the preparations for the wedding herself and refused the ridiculously expensive gifts they’d tried to thrust on her.

‘Congratulations,’ Vikas Kulkarni said. ‘Could I have the honour?’

Michael had arranged the music, and the members of his band had now loosened their ties and were playing popular Goan dance numbers.

‘Can you dance?’ Melissa asked suspiciously.

In her experience most non-Goan men hadn’t mastered the art of dancing with the opposite sex—they either flung their arms around enthusiastically and stamped on their partner’s toes or stood stock-still and tapped their feet to the music, presumably expecting their partners to gyrate around them Bollywood style. Neera was currently dodging a partner of the second category and giggling over a drink with one of Samir’s Maximus colleagues.

‘My ex-wife forced me to go through an entire year of Latin ballroom dancing classes,’ Vikas said as he expertly swung her onto the dance floor. ‘Good music, by the way, Melissa. Michael’s done an amazing job.’

‘Thanks,’ Melissa said. ‘Though I think a couple of Samir’s relatives are absolutely scandalised by my band party family.’

Vikas glanced over at the relatives in question. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t bother about them, if I were you,’ he said dismissively. ‘Sour-faced bunch of prunes. Just remember their faces and snub them royally if they volunteer to be godparents to your babies. Samir’s parents are in love with you, and so are his friends. Even his brother’s bowled over.’

Melissa laughed, hoping he was right. Bina had confided to Melissa that she’d always had a secret yen for a church wedding herself, and she was thrilled to be part of one. Right now she was being whirled around the dance floor by one of Melissa’s cousins, while Samir’s father looked on with an indulgent smile. He’d completely recovered from the heart attack, but he still needed to take things slowly—Bina was trying to convince him to retire and hand over the business to Samir’s brother to run.

Melissa’s eyes met Samir’s, and for a second she forgot to move, forcing Vikas to steer her abruptly out of the way of a couple doing the
bhangra
to a peppy Konkani number.

‘I can see I’ve lost you.’ Vikas sighed in her ear, and she blushed vividly. ‘But before you rush off to your loving husband could you be a darling and introduce me to that lovely flatmate of yours?’

Sadly, Vikas and Rita hadn’t reconciled, in spite of Samir’s best efforts—Rita was now seeing someone else, and Vikas was revelling in his new-found bachelor status. Melissa took him across to Rohini, whose eyes promptly lit up. There were clearly some serious sparks going on there, and Melissa left them to get on with it as she headed back to Samir.

‘I’ve been thinking for a while, and I’ve now made up my mind,’ Melissa announced later as they got into the car to leave for their honeymoon.

Samir looked at her in mock alarm. ‘Statements like that make me very nervous,’ he said. ‘What exactly have you decided, Melly?’

‘Today is quite definitely the happiest day of my life,’ she said. ‘I was trying to choose between today and the day you asked me to marry you. But today is better.’

‘It is,’ Samir said, brushing his hand gently against her collarbone and making her shiver with longing. ‘But I’d like to think that we have even better days ahead of us.’

‘Fabulous honeymoon sex,’ she said, wrinkling her brow as she pretended to concentrate very hard. ‘Setting up house together.’

‘Our first child,’ Samir supplied.

‘Second child.’

‘Third... Actually, no, our first child’s graduation day.’

‘His wedding.’

‘Grandkids.’

Melissa began to laugh. ‘We seem to have it all mapped out,’ she said. ‘Our own version of happily-ever-after.’

‘Everything might not turn out exactly the way we think it will,’ Samir said, turning to smile his trademark heart-stopping smile. ‘But the happily-ever-after bit—that’s non-negotiable.’

‘Completely,’ she agreed. ‘Though I
would
like the bit about fabulous honeymoon sex to turn out the way I’ve imagined it.’

And it did.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from BEACH BAR BABY by Heidi Rice.