Twelve Hours of Temptation Read online

  ‘What about the girlfriend, then? Shivani...no, Shalini. How come she’s not in any of the pictures?’

  ‘Because she wasn’t with us on the holiday, Einstein,’ Samir said.

  He seemed perfectly relaxed, and Melissa ventured a second question. ‘So what was she like?’

  Samir shrugged. ‘Pretty. Bone-lazy. And as hard as nails.’

  Melissa wrinkled her nose. ‘Doesn’t sound very appealing,’ she said. ‘Of course you could be prejudiced because she dumped you.’

  ‘Very likely,’ Samir said.

  But he didn’t seem to be really paying attention to what she was saying. Instead, he was looking at her, his dark brown eyes fixed on hers so intently that she blushed and fell silent.

  ‘Did I happen to mention I missed you?’ he asked finally, his voice low and scorching hot.

  Trying to sound as casual as possible, she said, ‘You did say something.’

  His eyes glittered a little as he moved closer. ‘And...?’

  ‘And...well, of course it’s natural, you getting a little lonely rattling around in this big old flat...’ Her voice trailed off in an undignified squeak as a large, warm hand clasped her waist, and Samir swung her up into his arms.

  He’d carried her into the bedroom when he stopped abruptly and said, ‘Bloody hell, what happened to the bed?’

  Melissa peeked over his shoulder and gave a gurgle of laughter. ‘I got some of my old stuff back from Goa—I was looking for a place to put it, and that’s why I opened the cupboard.’

  But Samir was already striding purposefully towards the guest room. ‘You can tell me all about it later,’ he promised. ‘Right now I’ve got more important things on my mind.’

  * * *

  Afterwards, Samir propped himself up on one elbow and gently traced a line down her arm, making her shiver with delight. One part of her brain was admonishing herself, though—it had been only a few minutes since they’d made love and here she was, going up in flames at his touch all over again. Shameless or what?

  ‘I got you something,’ he said, and she looked up in surprise.

  He reached across and took a rectangular box out of the pocket of his discarded trousers.

  ‘A watch,’ she said, taking it out and smiling up at him. ‘Thanks, Samir, it’s lovely.’

  And it was, with a delicate rose-gold strap and a mother-of-pearl dial studded with little diamonds. She wasn’t sure if the diamonds were real, never having seen any close up. Goodness knew how much it had cost.

  ‘I was thinking we should take a few days off and go on a holiday,’ he said. ‘Somewhere nearby, perhaps—Krabi or Koh Samui.’

  ‘That’s in Thailand.’

  He smiled. ‘Yes, but not the terribly touristy part. The beaches are great.’

  Melissa thought hazily that she wouldn’t care if they were touristy. She’d never been outside India, really—a childhood holiday to Nepal so didn’t count.

  For a few seconds she daydreamed about having Samir all to herself for five days—maybe even a week.

  Then reality sank in. ‘I can’t go,’ she said. ‘I’m starting a new job, remember? I can’t saunter in and ask for leave the day I join.’

  Samir shrugged. ‘It’s not such a big deal. Tell them you’d already made plans and you couldn’t cancel. Anyway, there won’t be much work right now while the Ganpati festival’s on.’

  She shook her head regretfully. The thought of a holiday with Samir was incredibly tempting, but she knew she couldn’t mess round with Maya.

  ‘I can’t. And anyway, I’m phobic about flying, remember?’

  ‘That won’t be a problem if you’re with me,’ he said, so confidently that she had to smile.

  ‘I still can’t come.’

  Samir shrugged. ‘Maybe in a couple of months, then,’ he said, but it was clear that the idea had already lost some of its charm for him.

  A couple of months.

  She’d had a lot of time to think on the way back from Goa, but she’d still not made up her mind about staying or leaving. The one thing she was sure about was that she wasn’t going to mould herself into a Stepford wife in order to make Samir propose to her. If needed, she’d do the opposite and make sure he understood exactly what he was getting into.

  ‘What time are you getting back home tomorrow?’ Samir asked, interrupting her thoughts. ‘You’d better get in early—it’s the last day of the festival and there’ll be hordes of processions on the roads, taking the idols to immerse them in the sea.’

  ‘I was planning to go and watch the visarjan at Marine Drive,’ Melissa said. ‘It’s pretty amazing.’

  Samir groaned. ‘Mel, of all the crackpot ideas to have! D’you know how crowded it gets? Anything could happen!’ He stopped short, realising that he sounded horribly like someone’s fussy maiden aunt. ‘It’s not like you’re even celebrating Ganpati Puja,’ he continued after a brief pause. ‘Why would you want to go for the visarjan?’

  ‘Because it’s interesting,’ she told him firmly. Then she relented a little. ‘There’s a friend of mine who lives near Churchgate—we’ll go to his place if it gets too bad.’

  ‘Who’s we?’

  ‘Me and Neera and a couple of others. You can come along if you want.’

  That last was clearly an afterthought, and Samir grimaced. ‘No, thanks. I’ll get home early and work from home for the second half of the day. You can take the car and driver.’

  ‘I won’t need them,’ she said. ‘We’ll take a cab.’

  ‘I’d feel safer if you had the car with you,’ Samir said, frowning. Melissa came to him and gave him a conciliatory hug.

  ‘Of course you would,’ she said. ‘But I don’t need the car and I can take care of myself.’

  ‘I know you can,’ Samir said, pulling her closer. ‘It’s just that I like taking care of you as well.’

  ‘Then come with me,’ she whispered. ‘Leave the car behind and mingle with the hoi polloi for once.’

  The words were out of her mouth, said in her best temptress tones, before she knew what she was doing. Insisting on going for the visarjan was just another way of emphasising the differences between them; she hadn’t meant to ask him to come along.

  Samir hesitated only for a second before saying, ‘All right, I will. In any case I won’t be able to work if I’m worrying about what exactly you’re up to.’

  Damn, she hadn’t expected him to actually agree. In spite of herself, though, Melissa felt a little thrill go through her. If he was willing to do something so out of character, just for her sake, surely that meant he cared? Then she gave herself a brisk mental shake and told herself not to be silly. If he cared he’d have told her. He wasn’t exactly in purdah, was he?

  ‘Where shall I meet you?’ she asked. ‘Don’t bring the car anywhere near Marine Drive—the roads will be blocked for kilometres all around.’

  * * *

  ‘I don’t think I’m really comfortable hanging around if Samir’s going to be here,’ Neera said. ‘It’s OK for you—he’s your boyfriend and you don’t work at Mendonca’s any more. But he’s my boss, and I’m sure he thinks we’re mad, coming out to watch the visarjan.’

  This was something that Melissa hadn’t anticipated. Finally, she’d managed to convince Neera to come with her, but the rest of the gang from Mendonca’s had dropped out. Worst of all, Samir had been right—the crowds were terrible and, unless you were actually with one of the puja committees, it was impossible to get anywhere near the part of the beach where the immersion was happening. There were cops everywhere, and without her usual gang around it was really no fun. The previous year, they’d accompanied one of the smaller Ganpatis actually into the sea, and it had been amazing. Being a bystander was not a patch on it.

  ‘I think I’l
l head back,’ Neera muttered. ‘I’ve got to meet the rest of the guys, and I promised my mum I’d be home early.’

  With her last supporter gone, Melissa acknowledged defeat. ‘It was much better last year,’ she said despondently.

  Samir heroically refrained from saying I told you so—but her disappointment was contagious. Also, he suspected that it had been more fun the previous year because she had been with friends, and he knew he was responsible for their not being around this year.

  ‘Maybe you should have just gone with your friends,’ he said, putting the thought into words.

  ‘Maybe,’ Melissa agreed, giving him a rather lopsided smile. ‘You wouldn’t have had to slum it then.’

  Samir sighed. ‘That’s not what I meant,’ he said. ‘If we’re together, we can’t live in a bubble, can we? It’s just a question of adjusting a little.’

  ‘But we’re adjusting all the time,’ she said slowly. ‘You didn’t want to come here, and you’re hating every minute of it, only you’re too polite to say it. And it’s the same for me. I had to make an effort every single minute at that party at Priyanka’s house. The only time we’re together and happy is when we’re in bed.’

  ‘That’s not a bad start, is it?’ Samir said teasingly, but Melissa refused to smile.

  ‘If we’re together just for the sex—’ she started to say, but Samir interrupted her.

  ‘I’m in it for a lot more than the sex, Melissa,’ he said. ‘But I don’t think this is the place to discuss it.’

  It definitely wasn’t—they were in one of the lanes leading off Marine Drive, but the music and drumbeats were as loud as if they were right on the beach with the Ganpatis and their worshippers. Also, some of the stragglers from the processions were giving them curious looks.

  ‘Let’s head back, then,’ Melissa muttered.

  Lost in thought, she stepped out of the lane right into a mass of people. Probably it was because she was walking in a direction opposite to the flow of people, or because she was still a little shaky after the conversation with Samir, but she felt herself lose her balance and trip. The procession kept moving—perhaps no one noticed her—and in an instant she found herself knocked into the path of a truck carrying a massive Ganesha.

  There was time only for her to give one terrified scream before Samir’s strong hands pulled her out of harm’s way.

  ‘Of all the careless...’ He was very pale, and she noticed dispassionately that his hands were shaking as he half dragged, half carried her into a nearby doorway. ‘Are you hurt?’

  ‘No,’ she said, leaning against a pillar to catch her breath. ‘Just a little bruised.’

  And more than a little shaken, though she didn’t tell him that. For an instant, with the Ganpati looming above her, she’d thought she’d be crushed under it. So much for her enthusiasm about the visarjan—she’d never be able to see a clay idol again without thinking of the day she’d almost got herself killed.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said, smiling at him wanly. ‘I don’t think anyone else even noticed I’d fallen.’

  He brushed her thanks away impatiently. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ he demanded. ‘You’re as white as a sheet.’

  ‘So are you,’ she retorted without thinking, and he laughed grimly.

  ‘You’re back to normal, at least,’ he said. ‘God, Melissa, you really know how to keep things lively.’

  A dozen confused retorts ran through her mind, but before she could say anything the skies opened up in a perfect torrent of rain. It was the tail-end of the monsoon season, and it had been cloudy all afternoon.

  ‘Great,’ Samir said with water streaming down his body. ‘What a lovely end to the day.’

  He was laughing, though—properly laughing this time—and after a few seconds Melissa joined in.

  Samir held out his hand to her. ‘Let’s go home,’ he said. ‘And don’t you dare suggest walking back—we’re taking a cab.’

  * * *

  ‘There’s something about the rain and sex,’ Melissa mused later on in the evening. ‘Maybe it’s all those old Bollywood movies with the leading ladies dancing in the rain in clingy white saris.’

  ‘Or under waterfalls,’ Samir said, lightly running his hand up her leg. ‘Waterfalls were pretty big in those days.’

  ‘Hmm...’ Melissa gave in to the pleasurable sensations his hands were evoking and stretched like a cat, pressing her body even closer to his. ‘Pity I don’t own a chiffon sari.’

  ‘Cotton kurtas can be pretty sexy too,’ Samir said, smiling as he remembered what had happened in the afternoon.

  They’d barely made it to the bed before collapsing in a tangled heap of wet limbs. Their damp clothes were still strewn around the living room and the passage that led to the bedroom—at some point they’d need to be picked up and put in the washing machine...

  ‘All good, Mel?’ he asked, and they both knew he wasn’t talking just about right now.

  Melissa gave a little sigh and pulled away, sitting up with a sheet tucked around her. ‘We need to talk,’ she said and prodded him with an elbow. ‘Go and get some clothes on. It’s very distracting, you sitting there without a stitch on.’

  Ten minutes later they were sitting across from each other at the dining table, both fully clothed.

  Melissa looked directly at Samir. ‘It won’t work,’ she said.

  Samir took a deep breath. He’d expected her to say something like that ever since their argument on Marine Drive.

  ‘Why do you think that?’ he asked. ‘We’ve had a few ups and downs, but that’s normal.’

  ‘The ups and downs are normal,’ she said. ‘But that’s not it. I don’t fit into your world, and I don’t think you want to fit into mine.’

  ‘When you say you don’t fit into my world...’

  ‘It’s all so artificial!’ she said. ‘You’ve got to be careful about what you say, and people are more bothered about how much money you make and what brands you wear than what kind of a person you are.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ he said quietly. ‘You just need to be yourself. But whenever we meet a friend of mine you seem to go out of your way to say something outrageous. Like what you said to Vikas at the art gallery. I’m not ashamed of the relationship we have. I’d like it to be a lot more than just sex, that’s all.’

  Put like that, it sounded very logical, and Melissa began to feel terribly guilty. Belatedly, it occurred to her that Samir had known these people for years, and the way she’d behaved reflected badly on him and his judgement.

  Her shoulders sagged in defeat. ‘It’s not about your friends or mine, really,’ she admitted. ‘That can always be worked out. It’s us. We have fun together, and the sex is great, but we don’t really...connect. I still know hardly anything about you, and you don’t seem particularly interested in knowing about me—though of course that doesn’t stop me from babbling out my life’s secrets at every opportunity.’

  Realising that she’d lost the thread of what she’d wanted to say, and also that she wasn’t sounding as calm and collected as she’d planned, she ground to a halt.

  ‘I am interested in whatever you tell me,’ Samir said quietly. ‘I’m just not very good at expressing myself. And if there’s anything you’d like to know about me, you only have to ask.’

  ‘But that’s just it—I have asked, and you always clam up!’

  ‘Like what?’ Samir’s patience was wearing thin now. ‘Ask me again. Ask me whatever you want!’

  ‘What were you planning to give up your career to do?’ she blurted out. OK, it wasn’t the most important thing she needed to know, but it had been bothering her. He looked a little puzzled, and she clarified. ‘You told me that Shalini split up with you because you wanted to go off to Europe and work on something that wasn’t likely to pay much. What was i
t?’

  His brow cleared. ‘That...’ he said. ‘It was a bit of an impractical plan, really. I was crazy about cars— vintage cars especially—and the idea was to buy a bunch of old cars, work on them and set up a dealership. Also drive them in rallies and stuff like that.’ He shrugged. ‘What can I say? I was only twenty-two.’

  ‘It doesn’t sound that impractical,’ she said. ‘There’s a museum like that in Goa, and I think they’re doing pretty OK.’

  Samir shrugged. ‘Shalini didn’t think so,’ he said, and his mouth twisted for a few seconds in memory of that long-forgotten hurt. ‘What else did you want to know?’

  ‘You mentioned having to leave Kashmir. I can understand you not wanting to talk more about that,’ she added hastily. ‘But you don’t talk about your parents much, or even your brother. At first I thought you weren’t very close to them, but from what Priyanka said that’s not true.’

  Samir sighed. ‘I’ll tell you all about them,’ he said. ‘Soon. I promise. Is that it? Or is there something else that’s bothering you?’

  There was, but it was very nebulous, and she certainly couldn’t tell him about overhearing his side of his conversation with his mother. He was still looking at her, however, and finally she said, ‘I keep getting the feeling that you’re assessing me, somehow. As if you’re trying to figure out whether I’m good enough for you or not.’

  The last thing she’d expected was for him to go on the offensive, but he raised his eyebrows and said, ‘And aren’t you doing exactly that yourself? You’ve practically made a catalogue of everything that’s wrong with me.’

  ‘It’s not the same thing—’ she started to say.

  He interrupted her ruthlessly. ‘It’s exactly the same thing,’ he said. ‘Neither one of us is perfect. But I still think we can make it work.’

  He got up and came around the table to put his hands on her shoulders, bending down to nibble gently at her neck. In spite of herself, she squirmed against him with pleasure and he laughed softly.

  ‘And if it doesn’t work, at least the sex is great,’ he said. ‘That’s a good reason to stay together, don’t you think?’