Bollywood Fiancé for a Day (23 page)

‘OK, tell us about one unforgettable date.' The lady in a tightly fitting dress smiled flirtatiously at him and the camera swept round to catch him lounging lazily on the large leather sofa.

‘Hmm…let's see. Tasting Lucknavi kebab, walking in Hazratganj, eating
chaat
, licking
kulfi.
' He looked right at the camera and her heart skipped a beat. Surely he wasn't referring to…he
isn't…to our date?
Two fingers of her left hand began to tingle in memory.

The interviewer did a lot of oohs and aahs, ‘Oh, that sounds too sweet for words! I mean like, really? Was that with your ex-fiancée? I've heard she lives in Lucknow!' Hadn't everyone? You'd have to live in Siberia not to have heard of it, the way the media had besieged her home. Her father had threatened to set police after the reporters if they showed up again at his house.

The camera shifted to Zaheer. ‘Yes, it was. We spent the day together there. It's one of my most precious memories.'

Chips began to be shoved faster in Vishakha's mouth. Her knees became sponge.

‘But you're not together, despite the fact that you obviously miss her?'

He shrugged. ‘Unfortunately, it didn't work out.' The background music began to play soulfully,
pyar hota nahi sabhi ke liye.

‘So love isn't possible for everyone.' The interviewer said, echoing the lyrics. ‘Are you looking for someone new in your life now?'

Vishakha held her breath, sure her heart would break in a million pieces any moment now.

He said, snaring her gaze through the screen till she felt hypnotized by the amber-green glitter, ‘That date was unforgettable for a reason.'

The chips turned to sawdust in her mouth. Did he mean that? Or was he just saying it? Making a sharp retort to wriggle free of tricky questions?

Her phone rang and she jumped.
Zaheer calling
blinked on the screen like a staccato heartbeat.

She stared at it, more afraid than she'd ever been in her life. Her stomach knotted tight. She was on the edge of a precipice, blood thundering in her ears as everything in her urged her to take off. But the fear clawing her gut had her frozen.
I can't.
She wasn't aware she was crying, but the drops fell and her face crumpled as she hurled the phone away from her, burying her face in the cushions.

* * *

Could she handle living without him?

Not if he insisted on popping up everywhere she went. She glared at an ad poster, where he lounged in a sleeveless vest, and considered tearing all the damn things down. The adrenaline rush was constantly with her. She need only close her eyes to think of him, his voice, his touch. She nearly hit the call button to his number every other second.

Except that she couldn't. Fear. That was the culprit dogging her steps. She was afraid of loving Zaheer, afraid of facing that humiliation, even though her logical mind told her he wouldn't inflict that on her again. The Zaheer who'd let her tears soak him, who'd built a house for his mother would never be so cruel. At the set he'd paid people from his own pocket. She thought of how he'd spent time with everyone at the wedding, nothing of a hot star and everything—she choked back a sob—everything of the man she wanted to love in him. How she'd tried to resist him then. She could've saved herself the effort.

She went on a round of the wards and while a part of her dealt with the updating of the medication of her little patients, another part was on a hamster wheel of its own, going round and round without stopping the torture. It was completely necessary to stay away from Zaheer, she told herself. To be safe. Once he'd accused her of that and so she had plucked up the courage to come clean about her feelings. Look where that had left her. So now she was back in the cave. She didn't want to take the chance of loving him. His about-turn on their engagement deal had left her so vulnerable that her insides still felt shaky.

A part of her urged her to trust him again. A foolish headstrong part.

She went for her tea break, staring at the steam rising from the cup without attempting to drink it. How could she trust him after what he'd done?

What had he done?
You got too close.
He'd sensed her vulnerability and her feelings for him when she'd told him she wanted to stay with him.

Dammit, willing or not, she obviously did trust him. Or she wouldn't have made that decision. She felt the tears moisten her eyes again and determinedly blinked them away. God, she would
not
cry in her workplace.

But, lying in her bed that night, she was forced to admit what she was truly afraid of. She didn't want to take the chance of being deserted like she'd been deserted by her father. He'd gone and never looked back. All that childhood guilt and fear had coalesced into a big ball of insecurity. The dread of losing someone she loved had become ingrained in her subconscious. Somewhere the feeling grew like a rot, slow but sure. It had made her overly cautious with men. Zaheer had broken down all those barriers and forced love to take root in her heart. For once she'd left all those fears behind.

Now she had given in to them again. Allowing them to drag down any chance of her finding happiness.

Because she was still afraid. Yes, they had shared something rare and precious. But his subsequent actions had made her doubt all he had made her feel. That she had his acceptance that she was her, Vishakha Sehgal, no ugly duckling but no glittering swan either, a woman of flesh and blood and mistakes and blunders, full of silly emotion more often than not…

She wanted that security. Craved the promise of caring.

He had apologized. What more could he do?

She didn't know. Maybe she wanted just too much from him.

Morning came and another day started. Trying hard to swallow the pain permanently lodged in her throat, she put her stethoscope in her bag and carried it to her white Estilo, relieved to be starting her day. At least work provided some distraction.

She had to go to the orphanage as per every other Thursday evening, but she didn't feel like lunch and left in the early afternoon. The narrow street seemed unusually crowded with sleek SUVs, she noticed absently as she turned her car down the lane, making for the old building. She frowned at the shut gates. Unusual. Honking her horn didn't help and she got up to open them herself. Then stopped short at the scene that met her eyes. In the wide courtyard, the children were jumping, flushed and overexcited, surrounding a tall man who turned as she stood rooted, his hazel eyes serious for once as his smile stilled on his lips.

‘Hello, Vishakha.'

‘What are you doing here?' She felt suddenly suffocated, robbed of breath. Not content with haunting her dreams, he'd started appearing physically. Stalking her workplace.

‘What does it look like?' he asked in a voice that was rock-steady. ‘I'm playing with the kids.'

And my heart.

He couldn't do this. Surely it should be illegal to re-break someone's poorly mended heart.

OK, breathe deeply. He could be here for any reason of his own.

Yet her stupid heart was pounding uncontrollably, just seeing him here. Surely she had to stop it going wild with hope. That somehow he was really here for her…She looked at him and blurted, ‘Don't play games with me, Zaheer.' She cringed. That was all she needed. An admission of her susceptibility to him. Fool. Fool.
Fool.

‘You're early,' he said instead of answering her. Glancing at two other men hovering in the background, he made a gesture as though for them to take over. ‘OK, kids, I have to talk to your doctor for a minute,' he told the limpets giggling around him.

To her surprise, a young one piped up, ‘Tell her. No needle,' pointing at Vishakha.

She smiled though her mouth felt like stretched rubber. ‘No needles today,' she promised.

‘I thought you dealt with therapy?' he said, again in that deadpan neutral tone.

‘Last week we had to give vitamins and iron shots to some of them.' It was a miracle that she could sound so normal. She glanced at him. ‘You aren't interested in hearing about medications.'

‘I could be.' He took her arm and led the way inside. A thrill was creeping under her skin at his touch and desperately she tried to suppress it. She had to act cool, not let on that somewhere something was breaking apart. Tiny chinks starting to appear in her armour. She couldn't allow that, could she?

‘We can talk here.' He opened her small cubicle. It had hardly enough privacy but considering her track record for falling into his arms when they were alone, maybe that wasn't a bad thing.

Outside her small window, she could see the land which had been cleared for her pet project. Due to financial deficit, construction hadn't been started yet. Two more well-dressed men who were taking a look round there made her eyes narrow.

‘Your people?' she guessed. Then her impatience overcame her. ‘What do you think you're doing, Zaheer?'

‘It's your dream project,' he told her quietly, ‘and now it's…mine too.'

Had he been about to say
it's ours
?

‘Why?' she whispered.

‘Just that I'm going to be funding it,' he said, turning suddenly matter-of-fact. ‘You mentioned this and I have the means, so…' He shrugged, looking out of the window too.

So? Was that all? Her heartbeat began to resound like a
dhol
beat.

Oh, no! He couldn't back away now.

‘Is that the only reason you're here?' She could barely make out the words. Was she ready for this? Ready to steer into the deep waters when she'd pledged to stay safe at the shore?

Yes!
The sound broke free from inside her. Because she couldn't
do
without him. She loved him and right at this moment he seemed perilously close to—to— Dare she have the thought?

‘No,' he said, ‘that isn't the only reason.'

‘Zaheer…' So many questions and not much so far in the way of answers.

‘I…I need a chance with you, sweetheart.' The whisper, the slight hesitation took her by surprise, sending such a jolt of electricity through her that her throat jammed.

She faced him, blinking away the sting in her eyes.

‘You want a chance with me?' Her chest rose and fell rapidly. ‘After all you've put me through?'

‘Vishakha—'

She cut him off. ‘That very first day you ditched me at the Dream Date promo.'

‘I took you out on the date—'

‘You came onto me in the car. Then you barged into my home and kissed me without even asking.'

‘These things happen.' He closed the distance between them. Near enough to put his arms around her.

Suddenly afraid he was never going to admit he loved her, she beat a fist on his chest. ‘And now you shock me, coming here and acting cool as a…as a…'

‘Frostik?'
he offered helpfully and got more blows. ‘Hey, enough.' He caught her flailing fists, leaning back to look at her. ‘At least now I know you're all right. You sound normal. Peppery.'

‘Oh, that's good. In fact, it's guaranteed to get you in my good books!'

‘You're not going to listen, are you? Can't you even give me a minute?'

‘No!'

‘Then I'll have to kiss you to keep you quiet.'

He finally had her attention. And her silence.

‘God, now I don't know if I should do what I came here to do or proceed with my threat.' He gave a rueful grin and ran his thumb pad over her lower lip, meeting her widened gaze with an intent darkening of his eyes. Then he straightened.

‘You just can't keep holding what I did to you against me, Vishakha. It's not fair to either of us.' He saw her flinch and swore. ‘I meant to do this with greater aplomb but—' Briefly he closed his eyes, the slight vulnerability he showed sucking the fight from her. ‘I love you, Vishakha. It took me a long time to realize it because I've been in such total denial.' He saw her become as still as a statue, her face blank with shock. ‘You don't believe me?' He raked a hand through his hair, chest expanding with emotion. ‘God damn it!'

He turned around on his heel and walked away. The door swung shut behind him and too late Vishakha lifted a hand to stop him. Had he finally said the words she'd longed to hear or had some wild imaginative streak made her hear them?

Her legs trembled. Her heart pounded. God, she had been so wrong about him. She had allowed her own insecurities to take over once more. Her own stupid fears. She knew Zaheer wouldn't just say the words. He meant them.

He loved her.

And now he had walked away, thinking she had rejected him. Had she lost him?

‘Zaheer!' She shot to the door, clutching the edge as she looked right and left to have some clue of which way he had gone. As she hesitated, taking a step forward, then back, like a clumsy pendulum, he appeared far down the corridor and she rushed headlong to him. ‘Zaheer…I'm sorry. I believe you. I do. I was just caught by surprise, that's all.' She fell into his arms, which tightened around her.

‘Vishakha. Come with me.' She registered the urgency in his voice, in the grip on her wrist, then he was leading her down the turning that led to the mess hall at the back.

‘What?' Tugged inside by his hold, Vishakha entered and looked and froze, a hand clamping to her mouth.

Inside, long table and benches had been joined together. Small children, shiny in new clothes, stood there holding white placards, each bearing a letter. And they spelt out:

Will you marry me, Vishakha?

Streamers ran down the walls and balloons—pink, silver, heart-shaped—floated all around.

She gasped, her eyes brimming over, and blinked to look into his beautiful emerald-green gaze that spoke the words she would kill to hear him say again.