You Can't Fight a Royal Attraction (3 page)

As Vishakha and Zaheer exchanged quick glances, he realised that didn’t sound much better either.

‘Oh, that’s great. You’re getting to know each other,’ Vishakha said.

About to deny the obvious connotation, he stopped as he took in her expression. Vishakha was smiling, looking relaxed already. He could see approval of the idea of his getting to know Saira written all over her face.

‘Funny, isn’t it?’ she mused. ‘You must have seen her at practically half a dozen events, yet it’s only now you people have had a chance to get together. I guess it takes the right moment.’

‘Give the guy a break,’ Zaheer recommended. ‘Just because he’s come from the girl’s room doesn’t mean…’ But Rihaan could see even he was having trouble keeping a straight face. ‘Well, it
could
, of course, but…’

They were looking to him for a cue.
Well, have you or
have you not got something going with Saira?
The question seemed to fill the room.

Instinctive denial echoed like a resounding gong inside his head.

Yet, if he was brutally honest, he couldn’t deny his arms still carried the imprint of that fragile body, his fingers itched to feel again the contact of that soft skin.

Anger rose at that admission. He couldn’t let himself get sucked down into the quicksand of her attraction.

‘We
are
getting better acquainted,’ he allowed carefully. He could see the interest perk up in Vishakha’s eyes and added gently, ‘Pity is, I’m taking a break from the social circuit for a few days to put my nose to the grindstone.’

A regretful, ‘Oh,’ escaped her and Rihaan almost felt guilty for not saying he was taking Saira out the next day.

‘Well, have to get back to work. Goodnight, bro, goodnight,
Bhabhisa.’
He touched Vishakha’s feet in a traditional gesture of respect and took his leave of them.

‘Oh, it would be nice if they could get together,’ Vishakha said when he was gone. ‘But I guess I’m just being too romantic.’ She smiled up at her superstar husband. ‘When one is happy, one can’t but wish everything should be perfect for everyone.’

‘I think I’ve said it before, you’re all mush inside, my softie wife. However, Rihaan doesn’t show his feelings openly, so don’t be put off by that stoic reaction,’ Zaheer soothed. Then he drawled, ‘Thinking back to the time when
I
first entered
your
room, I shouldn’t set much store by that stiff statement.’

‘It feels just like yesterday, doesn’t it?’ Vishakha giggled, moving closer to him.

‘Yesterday?’ Zaheer pretended to take offence. His arm slid around her waist, thickened by the baby bump. ‘I see I’ll have to jog your memory a bit. And there’s no time like the present,’ he murmured, drawing her closer.

S
AIRA SIGHED AS
the scent of buttered toast wafted up to her. The maid had left the breakfast, obviously at Vishakha’s instructions. She had refused twice and now her sister had had enough.

She recrossed her bare feet, warmed by the sun as she lay on the recliner partly in the shade of the house. After a night made restless by a darkly attractive face looming in her dreams, she had got up early and dressed. Only the day yawned ahead again. She tried to make plans. What could she do? Scout around for a job? Did she even want to live in Mumbai? Her parents were in Lucknow but, after her father had suffered a mild heart attack, her mom had practically told her she wasn’t welcome there. Seeing his divorced daughter in the house apparently escalated his stress levels.

Vishakha had been kind enough to insist on her staying here. Saira helped with Aragham, her three-year-old nephew, but knew that, as her sister already employed someone full-time, she was just filling in time. She wasn’t really needed. Just… needy.

A shadow fell and she looked up and groaned silently. Her nemesis stood there, looking as if he’d just stepped off an ad shoot for Friday dressing.

‘All recovered from last night?’ Sky-blue shirt and khaki pants and sneakers made him look cool. All he needed was
that sleek hairstyle mussed. Though why should she feel the itch to do it…?

‘Good morning, Rihaan,’ she said brightly. Still sore about his accusation last night, she wasn’t going to let him see it affected her. Determined also not to give away her pensive mood, she offered him a wide smile and gestured to the tray. ‘Would you like some breakfast?’

His eyes narrowed and she felt a stab of satisfaction at having thrown his annoying self possession off track with her cheerful greeting. ‘No, thanks. Looks like you had a good night.’

‘Oh yes, thanks to your
so
painstaking efforts. I really owe you a debt of gratitude. In fact,’ she said archly, ‘you deserve a kiss for being so chivalrous!’

She bit her lip, trying not to give in to her amusement as he looked dumbfounded for a second. Or as close to dumbfounded as he could look with those cast iron features. Probably he was wondering at the metamorphosis of the indignant spitfire of yesterday to a simpering maid today. He looked as if he didn’t trust the transition one bit.

‘Deserve a kiss? Is it coming from you?’ An eyebrow slanted upward with cool interest.

‘Of course. It’s a pity you can’t bear to get within ten feet of me.’ She shook her head in a doleful gesture. ‘That does away with the offer. I guess I’ll see you around.
Jeeju’
s inside and your
bhabhisa
is at the clinic.’

‘Actually, I came to see you, not them.’

She was so surprised she actually sat up straight. ‘Wow! That’s a first from you. Changed your mind after hauling me around last night?’ she said flippantly.

His intent gaze showed he’d got her meaning. Too well, if the way it held hers counted.

‘Don’t tread on the thin line, Sehgal. You might slip. Cheekiness might be amusing, but only so far. You’d do well not to underestimate your adversary.’

Not when it was him.

‘So the gloves are off,’ she came back. ‘You do admit to being my adversary.’

‘Anyone who messes with people I care about becomes one to me,’ he proclaimed. Arms folded across his chest, he stood like an olden day combatant, a
Yodha.
All he needed was a forty kilo sword and seventy kilo armour, or
kawach
, they used to wear.

‘Which brings me back to the reason I wanted to see you,’ he added.

She sought her yellow and pink slippers, which matched her yellow top and pink trousers, and stood up. Curiosity and caution insisted she needed more leverage to talk to him. Though she was still about a head short. No chance of giving him an eye to eye.

‘You’re coming with me. Get packing,’ he told her.

‘What?’ Her eyes fairly bulged from their sockets. ‘Have you gone crazy?’

He looked unimpressed by her chagrin, literally looking down his nose at her. ‘The sensible thing would be to try and understand my plan.’

He continued, ‘Vishakha
bhabhi
has been worrying more about you than is healthy. With the baby on the way, it seems advisable to keep her stress-free.’

‘And, according to you, I’m causing her stress?’ She hoped the hurt she felt didn’t show in her voice. This was something like what Mom had insinuated. Her father hadn’t been well and Mom had said the sight of her moping about wouldn’t do his heart good. She had been gentle about it but it was there nevertheless. Saira had wanted to rent a flat in Lucknow but Vishakha had insisted, on seeing how much better Saira felt in Aragham’s innocent company, that she should come and stay with them. She couldn’t deny she hadn’t wanted to face being alone at that time.

Had she become a problem to be shuttled here and there? The thought tore into her, causing her throat muscles to tighten. Why did she feel so incapable of taking her life in her own hands?

‘You don’t look dumb enough for the problems you’re causing by staying here to have escaped you,’ he told her.

Was that a compliment? She thought not.

‘Last night your sister didn’t even eat her dinner because she was concerned about you. Zaheer and
bhabhi
even came back early. Is it right to impose so much on their caring? Anyway, because I was in your room, they think we are attracted to each other. Easily a reason for me to take you to my place, ostensibly for the weekend, and then extending on from there, if needed.’

‘So you have it all charted out? Me coming to your place for the weekend! What makes you think I’ll ever agree to this mad idea? I’d rather stay at a crocodile bank or—or at the frontline of a herd of rampaging rhinoceroses!’ she stormed.

‘I assure you my home is more comfortable than that.’ His mouth quirked. A flash of humour made his eyes glint.

‘It may be the President’s abode for all I care,’ she snapped.

His brows drew together in displeasure. ‘Suck up your misery and stop clinging to your relatives. Zaheer and
bhabhisa
deserve a relaxation from the constant vigil they need to keep over you, the way you indulge in excess.’ His mouth drew in a straight forbidding line.

She could hardly credit her hearing. ‘Excess, my foot. Are you sugar-coating the implication I’m a drinker?’

‘Merely pointing out your failings,’ he said, dropping the said sugar-coating with alarming readiness. ‘Okay—’ he made a pacifying gesture, ‘let’s stop arguing and keep things in perspective. Your relatives expect us to date and you’ll do well to cooperate with my idea.’

‘Oh, really?’ He was going too fast for her to think of anything smarter than that. ‘Why didn’t you set them right first time?’

‘And have your sister disappointed? That was the only time she smiled all evening.’

Pain speared her. The pain of jealousy. She didn’t doubt the concern that lay beneath his words. She was shameful of her envy.

If he cared so much for his friends… how would he act for the woman he loved?

The unwary thought had her stealing a look at him. Sherry brown eyes beneath jagged black brows, the imperfection of them merely adding to the masculine beauty of his features. Perfectly symmetrical features, chiselled jaw line, the cheekbones sharply cut, a mouth carved to sensuous perfection, slight aquiline nose, adding a hunter’s look and giving character to his face rather than leaving it at mere good looks. His T-shirt outlined a broad inverted delta chest. Strong shoulders she had held onto last night.

Her pulse skidded. Her thoughts were turning creepy on her. Why was she wondering all this about him? Why did looking into his eyes seem an exercise which needed intense effort to glance away…?

An instinct was insisting she didn’t break the contact even as the air around her warmed. The instinct that wanted to break free of restrictions she had kowtowed to for far too long…

Surely a crazy instinct.

She needed to put this man at a distance. Not spend the weekend with him.

‘My sister would hardly be pleased if I moved in lock, stock and barrel with a man I barely know,’ she said more soberly, finally breaking the stand-off eyelock.

‘But, with her strongly romantic nature, she won’t be hard to convince. It’s for her good. Even a few days would
give them a respite. She’ll be relieved to know you have found someone and started living again, so to speak.’

‘And if it doesn’t work out between us, you’ll have hell to pay.’ So maybe this wasn’t a bad idea, she thought nastily. Only she didn’t want to be the cause of spoiling Rihaan and Zaheer’s friendship.

‘We can always say we parted amicably,’ he said reasonably.

He had an answer to everything, didn’t he? Too late she realised she’d actually been considering his idea. As if that wasn’t the wildest thing she’d ever heard.

In a warped kind of way, he made sense. Unwillingly, she admitted his charges were true. She’d been escaping from the real world. Clinging to the security her sister provided. Even the thought of moving away filled her with panic. What could she do? Where would she go?

‘It’s beyond unfeasible. I haven’t heard of anything more—’

‘Oh, hi Rihaan!’ Vishakha’s voice interrupted them as she came walking across the lawn towards them.

Saira glanced at her sister, overcome suddenly by a lump appearing in her throat. She’d had no idea Vishakha felt like Rihaan said. That she was worried enough to forego food. Despite everything that had happened between them in the past, Vishakha had stood by her at the time of her divorce. Initially Saira hadn’t confided in her but later she had been relieved to open up. Because she had no one else. Neither her parents, nor friends to turn to.

She had been twenty when she got married. Her parents had been against it—not least because she was so young—but they had come around. But when she’d filed for divorce all hell broke loose. Her papa, who had always doted on her, had made no bones about his condemnation and refused to even talk to her. Her mom had maintained communication through worried phone calls but she had
to stick by her husband’s decision. Saira had been left with few friends. Nearly all had drifted away during her marriage, when she hadn’t fought her ex in-laws to keep in contact with them. They had always treated her friends as though they were beneath their notice.

After the divorce, she had cried bitterly to Vishakha, regretting her part in breaking her sister’s engagement, but Vishakha—now radiantly happy—had brushed it away. She had understood why Saira had done what she had and that understanding had opened a new phase of their relationship. She wouldn’t have met Zaheer otherwise, Vishakha had told her. Her genuine forgiveness had humbled Saira and inspired her.

It must come from her mother, she thought, blinking away mushy tears. Hadn’t Vishakha’s mother always treated Saira as her own child, as more than her own child even? Saira had been five when her father married Vishakha’s mother. She could remember nothing of her birth mother, except vague images that somehow made her feel lower than the bottom of a mineshaft… if she let them take up her mind. The woman had left her and never looked back. A young Saira had declared herself lucky she had, because she had a mother
and
a sister as replacement.

She owed both of them a lot.

If there was anything she could do for Vishakha, she would.

So when Rihaan, blatantly ignoring her half-verbalized refusal, said easily, ‘
Bhabhisa
, we have something to tell you. I’m going to steal your sister for the weekend,’ she swallowed back her objection. The smile he directed at her for Vishakha’s benefit transformed his face from rigid handsome lines to rakishly attractive features.

‘Saira?’ Vishakha looked round at her with a question in her eyes. ‘This is so sudden.’ She glanced from one to
the other. The silence lengthened and a warning glint grew in Rihaan’s eyes.

She wished she could defy him but his logic, the feeling behind it, had her bending.

‘No, Vishakha, not sudden actually. I really like Rihaan. I have had a crush on him for a while now.’
If he didn’t open that mocking mouth, didn’t attempt to be supercilious without effort and
, shove it,
just wasn’t his un-endearing self in general.
‘We’ve decided we want to see how it goes for us,’ she said, gazing back at him with a suitably dreamy smile.

‘Since I’m headed home, a weekend is really ideal for us to get to know each other,’ Rihaan added.

‘If you’re sure? Saira?’

Unable to lie, she stepped forward and simply hugged her sister. ‘It’s okay,
didi.
I have to move on.’ she whispered for her ears alone.

But the smile of happiness that transformed Vishakha’s face simply floored her. As did the fierce hug she got back. ‘Oh Saira, I hoped… I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear it. So, so happy for you. And you, Rihaan. Come here, you give me a hug too.’ Rihaan came forward and a scent of orange and musk made Saira automatically step back. Vishakha beamed. ‘I hope it works out for you. Zaheer is going to say I no sooner see a plane than hop on it and fly. But really, I can’t help saying it. I wish the best for you both.’

Vishakha had believed her ‘moving-on’ excuse. Well, it was true in a way. She suppressed the guilty twinge of her conscience. She had to move on. It was beyond time. This could be a chance, otherwise Vishakha wouldn’t hear of her going.

‘We’d like to get going right away.’ Rihaan winked a warning at her.

‘I’ll get packed then.’

‘I’ll help her,’ Rihaan added smoothly, taking advantage of the chance.

Making sure she didn’t escape his clutches? she wondered scathingly.

The ease with which her sister had agreed to her going told her how much she trusted Rihaan.

He followed her into her room, seeming to fill the space. Some devil made her say, ‘Be careful, you don’t take undue advantage of the opportunity.’ She knew she was needling him but she was unable to help herself. He looked so rigid and lordly standing there in his typical feet-apart pose, he practically invited her to try and shake him up a bit.