38. OS 18. Too Tempting to Resist (Part 38)

Part 38

Arnav looked at the time on his phone. It was late.

Where was Khushi? Why hadn’t she come to bed? He had been so looking forward to teasing her.

A small smile on his lips, he sauntered down the steps to the living room.

He looked around. There was absolutely no one anywhere. All had gone to bed.

He pulled out the phone from his pocket and called her. He heard the faint sound of the phone ringing, Chalo Maiyya ke bhavan, bhavan, bhavan.... in the kitchen before it was cut off.

A frown appeared on his face.

From the kitchen? Her phone was in the kitchen? A kitchen that was locked from outside?

Or was Khushi in the kitchen?

 He smirked. Must be hiding from him, he thought.

He made his silent way to the kitchen door, unlocked it softly and stepped into the dark room, shutting the door behind him, careful not to make a sound.

                                                            ***

Khushi glared at her phone in the darkness. “Can’t you remain silent?” she asked crossly. “If Arnavji had heard your screech, then he would have barged in here by now and would be standing here, staring at me with those...those eyes...”

The door of the storeroom creaked.

Khushi drew in a deep breath of fear and shock, her hazel eyes as wide as saucers.

An imposing male figure moved to stand before her, looming over her in the darkness.

“Hey Devi maiyya, raksha karna,” she whispered, the warm fragrance of his body hitting her like a potent drug.

He smiled. “You were hiding from me?” he asked softly.

“No...” she stuttered.

He stood silent.

She could almost see one eyebrow arching in question.

“I—I was just...” she began and paused. She tried again. “I didn’t feel sleepy...”

“So you thought to chill in the storeroom?” he asked, biting back his mirth.

“No...yes...” she fought her way through a tangle of thoughts clouding her poor, heated brain.

“No or yes?” he insisted.

She could hear the laughter in his voice. Miffed, she turned her head away.

He bent his head and whispered in her ear, “Were you hiding from me?”

She said nothing, just turned her head away so that her ear was away from his wicked lips.

“Why should you want to hide from me?” he mused. “What are you scared of?”

She said nothing even as her heart raced in her chest.

“Shall I guess?’ he murmured, his breath stirring the fine strands of hair near her ear.

“No, you may not,” she blurted out, trying to lean away from him as far as she could. After all, her sanity was at risk here.

He leaned in closer and whispered, “I know. You are scared. You are scared of my touch, Khushi.”

‘How does he know?’ ran through her head. ‘I never told him.’

“You are scared of what my touch does to you,” he insisted, his hot breath scorching the silky skin of her cheek.

“I am not,” she breathed.

“You are not?” he asked.

“I am not,” she insisted even though she was woefully short of breath.

“Prove it,” said the master negotiator in his husky voice.

Khushi had a scary feeling of slipping into a deep pool of goo.

“Why..why should I prove anything to you?” she managed to ask.

“Coward,” he teased, his hot lips near her flushed cheek.

“I am not,” she insisted even when she knew it was wiser to keep her mouth shut.

“Then prove it,” he insisted.

Khushi found herself nodding.

Slowly, one finger touched her nose.

Khushi jumped.

The finger ran down to her lips and then her chin, leaving behind trails of fire.

Khushi shut her eyes tight and held her breath.

The finger trailed along her jaw and reached her ear to wreak havoc there.

Khushi fell against the wall.

He crowded her.

His finger traced the shape of her ear, teased the lobe and moved down the side of her neck to stop on her shoulder at the stitch of her blouse.

Khushi’s knees gave way.

She would have fallen to the floor in a puddle of mush if his hands hadn’t decided to rescue her and hold her by her waist.

Khushi gasped at the feel of his hot, hard, large hands on her bare waist.

He moved her against the wall for support and moved closer till his body was flush against hers. Then he cupped her face.

37. OS 18. Too Tempting to Resist (Part 37)

Part 37

Khushi could only gasp at his audacity. How could she be fine when he was making it impossible for her to breathe and was causing dhak dhak and acidity with a vengeance by looking at her with hot eyes and breathing against her skin?

“Chodiye hamein,” she whispered so softly that it could be easily missed.

But his sharp ears missed nothing.

“I am not holding you,” he whispered right back, holding his hands up in the air.

Khushi gulped, excitement and fear blending into a potent mix in her heart.

He stretched his hand and picked a red rose from a vase on the table nearby.

As she watched, too fascinated to move away, he brought the rose to her face and starting at her temple, ran it down her nose and stopped at the curve of her lips.

The sweet fragrance of the blooming bud filled her nostrils and took the whole sensation to another level.

She stood, holding her breath, fearful of the unknown yet excited about it, waiting for the next attack on her senses.

The rose caressed her plump lips. She shivered, her lips parting at that tender touch.

His hand shook.

The rose made its unsteady way across her rosy cheek to touch the rim of one ear.

Khushi shut her eyes tight, her fingers clutching the bedspread.

The rose travelled down her neck to touch the black beads of her mangalsutra gently, reverently.

She held her breath. Wide eyes looked into burning ones as the rose slowly made its torturous way down, down to the neckline of her blouse.

“A..Arnavji...” she breathed, her nostrils flaring, her chest heaving.

“Hhmm?” he asked, his gaze lowering to the spot the rose rested.

His phone rang.

They stood frozen in place, too caught up in the moment to heed the call.

Finally, Arnav moved to his laptop table and picked up the phone, the rose still held in his hand.

It was Aman.

He had to take the call. Through the corner of one eye, he saw Khushi make a run for it.

He smiled and slowly brought the red rose to his lips.

                                                           ***

Khushi looked anxiously at the clock. It was nine at night.

The whole family was at the dinner table, eating and laughing at mami’s jokes.

Her wary eyes went to the head of the table. Arnav Singh Raizada. Her jiji’s jetji. Her husband. He was sitting there, silent, eyes focused on his plate even as the conversation flowed all around him.

Khushi gulped. He must be thinking of the next flower to torture her with! Hey Devi Maiyya, raksha karna, she begged silently.

Suddenly his head lifted and he looked straight at her.

The spoon fell from her hand to the floor with a clatter.

All jumped.

Khushi sat there, paralysed by his knowing glance.

Anjali bent down and took the spoon and gave it to HP. 

Jokes were cracked and laughter filled the room, but Arnav and Khushi remained oblivious to the hilarity. They were caught up in their own wordless battle fought by their eyes.

Her eyes fell first.

Victory shone in his eyes for a second before he lowered his eyes to his plate.

                                                         ***

Khushi leaned against the kitchen counter, feeling weak.

It was bedtime.

How could she go to his bedroom? He would devour her. He and his flower games would kill her with dhak dhak and acidity.

“Payaliya, are you heating milk for Akash bitwaa?” nani asked with a smile.

“Ji, dadiji,” Payal said with a smile as she poured warm milk into a mug.

“Khussi bitiya, aren’t you going to bed? Chotey will be waiting,” nani teased.

Khushi blushed.

Nani and Payal left.

Khushi sagged against the counter. How could she go to his room? What could she do? Maybe she could spend the night in the kitchen?

Khushi quickly looked around for a place to hide. Maybe the storeroom?

36. OS 18. Too Tempting to Resist (Part 36)

Part 36

Khushi woke up slowly and stretched, groaning. She had slept well and felt great.

She opened her eyes.

Wilted flowers met her gaze.

Her eyes widened. She sat up with a jerk. Suhaag raat. It had been their sughaag raat last night.

Scared, she turned her head warily to look at the pillow by hers.

All she could see was the press of a head. Arnavji had already left the bed.

She heaved a sigh of relief. Hey Devi Maiyya, shukriya, she prayed under her breath as she clambered out of bed and made her way to the washroom, carefully navigating her way through burnt out candles and floral bouquets.

As she bathed and then dressed in a pale green blouse and saree with tons of silver work done on it, she realised that Arnavji had removed her maang tikka and other ornaments so that she could sleep comfortably.

A slow flame of happiness warmed her scared heart.

She looked at herself in the mirror.

Mangalsutra around her neck, red and green bangles around her wrists. Nothing else was different. The sindoor Arnavji had heaped on her maang had been washed away.

Khushi looked at the silver pot of sindoor on the dressing table. Someone had placed it there for her. With shaking fingers, she lifted the lid and taking a pinch of the red powder, applied it in her maang.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Now she looked different. Like a stranger.

She shook her head. ‘Don’t waste your time thinking pointless thoughts, Khussi,’ she told herself. ‘You are already late. What must your in-laws think of you sleeping in till noon. Go down and face them...and Arnavji.’

                                                               ***

“Khushiji!” Anjali called out, a big smile on her face. “Chotey said you were very tired and forbade us from waking you up.” She limped up to Khushi and hugged her.

Khushi’s frantic eyes looked for a glimpse of her nemesis even as Payal hugged her.

“Khussi bitiya, aayiye, come and have breakfast,” nani invited, her face flushed with happiness.

“How bas your phirst nightwaa?” mami asked,a twinkle in her eyes.

Nani and Anjali shushed her, scandalised.

Audacious mami continued, “Saasumma, I bas just asking her, did she sleep bell in her new housewaa.”

All smiled as Khushi blushed.

Anjali caught hold of Khushi’s hand. “Khushiji, I am sorry,” she said softly. “Yeh Chotey bhi na! He went to office, today of all days. Aisa bhi koi karta he kya?”

Khushi heaved a sigh of relief. The sword hanging over her head retreated a little.

Nani shook her head in disappointment.

Mami put it simply. “Khussi bitiya, you are hamre Arnav bitwaajj second bife.”

All gasped.

“The phirst one is his laptopwaa. You push it into the poolwaa iph you want a life,” mami advised.

All laughed.

“You will have to push Amanji too into the pool, Khushiji,” Anjali advised.

“Then hamre Arnav bitwaa bill jump into the poolwaa, Hello hi bye bye!” mami said.

Khushi smiled. The image of a young boy with his world shattered around him filled her mind. She looked down at her crossed fingers and took a deep breath.

                                                            ***

Arnav returned home a couple of hours later. He quietly handed over his coat and bag to HP and asked, “Where is Khushi?”

“Bhabiji is in the kitchen,” HP said, delighted that Arnav was taking an interest in his wife.

Arnav said softly, “Ask Khushi to come to our room.”

HP said, beaming, “Yes, Arnav bhaiyya.”

Arnav walked up the steps and HP ran all the way to the kitchen where the ladies were having fun and announced, “Arnav bhaiyya is back from office and asked me to request Khushi bhabi to join him in their room.”

There was perfect silence for one moment. Khushi could hear her heart thud like crazy.

Mami nudged nani and both of them turned away to hide their amusement.

Anjali could almost jump with happiness. She beamed at Khushi as though she had won gold in a marathon.

Payal quickly stepped in. “Khushi, take a glass of water to jetji. And bring him down for lunch in one hour,” she said easily, handing over a tray with a fine glass filled with chilled water.

Khushi nodded and taking the tray with shaking hands, slowly walked out of the kitchen.

Mami sang after her, “Abhi na jao chodkar...ke dil abhi bhara nahi...”

Khushi almost tripped on her saree.

                                                       ***

Khushi swallowed hard as she steadied herself at the door to his...no, their bedroom and slowly walked in.

Arnav emerged from the washroom. His eyes took in the trembling hands and her wary eyes and the tray. Throwing the white towel in his hands on the recliner, he walked up to her and took the tray from her, taking care not to touch her.

He placed the tray on the low table by the recliner and turned to look at her.

“Slept well?” he asked in his husky voice.

“Ji...” she stammered, her eyes averted.

“Achi lag rahi ho,” he complimented softly, sending a hundred pigeons fluttering their wings in her poor heart.

Her wide eyes met his innocent-seeming ones for a moment before skittering away.

“Sh..shukriya...” she whispered, well-mannered till the end. Never let it be said that her babuji hadn’t raised sanskaari girls.

Arnav turned and walked away.

Khushi sat on the bed, her legs giving way. She breathed in deep in relief. As long as he stayed away from her, she was fine. She could manage, maybe even breathe. Maybe she could be a reasonably fine bahu of the Raizadas. Maybe her family wouldn’t feel ashamed of her...The thoughts scrambled in her head when he walked back to her.

She sat stiffly on the bed as he placed a jewellery box on her lap. “Open it,” he said softly.

With shaking fingers, Khushi undid the clasp.

There was a beautiful emerald and diamond jewellery set in the box.

“It belonged to my mama,” he said softly. “She left it for my bride, her bahu.”

Tears filled her eyes at the thought of his mother who had missed out on most of his life and the pleasures that most mothers took for granted. She touched an emerald with a tender finger, feeling his mother’s unconditional love envelop her. The fact that a lady she had never met had thought of her and left her something moved her to the core.

Arnav swallowed past the boulder in his throat.

“May I?” he asked, taking the necklace in his hands, asking permission to touch her.

She nodded jerkily.

Arnav gently fastened it around her neck, smoothing away strands of hair and trailing his fingers down the sides of her neck to touch her shoulders.

Khushi panted, her lips parted.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, his hot breath against her ear.

Khushi shivered.

“Khushi, tum theek ho?” the devil asked, looking into her panic-filled eyes.

35. OS 18. Too Tempting to Resist (Part 35)

Part 35

“Now hamre Arnav bitwaa and hamre new bahuriya Khussi will do the aphter-bedding rasams,” mami announced. “All aaa jao, sit downs, sit downs,” she invited the guests.

“Chotey, Khussi bitiya, baith jayiye. You have to find the ring in this vessel of milk,” nani said, a happy smile on her face.

“Nani, do we really need to do this?” Arnav asked. “It is late.”

The ladies laughed at what they saw as his impatience to be alone with his bride on his wedding night. But Arnav’s eyes were on a visibly wilting Khushi.

“We hab to do these, Arnav bitwaa,” mami informed him.

“Akash and Payal did it long enough. Count that as ours too, mami. Let us go,” Arnav requested.

Before the Raizadas could remonstrate with him, Khushi whispered, “Let’s finish them, Arnavji.”

He looked at her, lost in her eyes.

“The rasams have to be done. Chaliye,” nani invited.

All sat down around the golden vessel with milk, rose petals and a ring to play games that were designed to make the bride comfortable with her groom and his family.

                                          ***

“Chotey, what are you doing here in your study? Go up to your room. Khushiji is waiting for you,” Anjali chided him.

“Last minute details,” he muttered as he signed cheques for the wedding arrangements.

“Bhai, you can do it tomorrow,” Akash suggested. “You must be tired tonight. Please, aap jaake rest keejiye.”

Capping his pen, Arnav nodded. He picked up his phone and called Aman.

Anjali fumed in anger and Akash sighed.

“Aman, slot the meeting for ten tomorrow,” he instructed. “I will be there.”

Two pairs of eyes glared at him when he cut the call.

“What?” he asked, unperturbed.

“It is your wedding night,” Anjali reminded him.

“I know, di,” he replied. “Good night.” He walked away.

“One day,” Anjali began. “One day, I swear, Akash, I will do him some harm.”

Akash smiled before wishing her a good night and leaving to join his sweet wife.

                                                    ***

Arnav walked up to his room on quiet feet. No one knew better than him that it was his suhaagraat. He had tarried to give Khushi time to rest, to feel comfortable in his room, to get used to the fact that they were married.

The door to his room was shut but not locked.

He pushed it open, slowly, softly, careful not to make a sound.

His breath caught in his chest.

The room was lit by the mellow glow of a hundred plump candles. The fragrance of jasmine and rose filled the room.

His eyes fell on the bed decorated to resemble a bower. And in the middle of a bed covered in red rose petals was Khushi with the pallu drawn over her head. Her knees were raised and her arms lay on them. Her head was lowered to rest on her arms.

He swallowed hard.

After a moment of standing still and gazing at his bride, he walked up to her.

“Khushi,” he called softly.

She did not answer him. She was fast asleep.

Arnav smiled. He turned away to get his nightclothes and went to the washroom to change.

Then he gently gathered her in his arms and laid her on the bed, her head on the pillow. Then he proceeded to remove her maang tikka, her necklace, her earrings and her bangles as carefully as he could to avoid hurting her.

Khushi slept the sleep of the exhausted, sleepless nights catching up with her.

Arnav sat on his recliner and worked on his laptop, stealing glances at his wife, relieved, happy and satisfied that she was finally with him, under one roof and in one room.

                                              ***

Khushi woke up with a start at dawn. Where was she? She stared at the floral chains surrounding the bed and hyperventilated.

“It is fine, Khushi,” came a husky mumble.

She turned her head to see a rumpled Arnav Singh Raizada lying on the bed by her.

She sat up hastily, staring at him with wide eyes. Then her eyes fell. “I fell asleep,” she said apologetic, her voice low.

“You were tired. So was I,” he said. “Go back to sleep, Khushi. We can talk in the morning.”

Khushi slowly eased back into bed and turned her back to him. She lay for a while staring at the candles and flowers in the room and slowly her lashes fell and she slipped back into sleep.

34. OS 18. Too Tempting to Resist (Part 34)

Part 34

Today was her shaadi.

Khushi sagged in her chair.

The past week had flashed past her. All she could remember was being pushed into designer clothes and pulled out of them by her jiji as she attended rasam after rasam at the speed of light.

And Arnavji had kept his distance from her.

She breathed in deep. It had been a great comfort as she hadn’t needed to fight her dhak dhak and acidity caused by his nearness, but...but it had been disquieting as well.

Khushi placed her hand on her chest. Her lashes lifted to see herself in the mirror.

Why was he staying away from her? How would they manage for the rest of their lives? Would she make a good wife? And what kind of husband would Laad Governor be?

She swallowed hard.

She missed her mother like an ache today.

A tear trailed down her cheek.

She wished she could hug her amma and weep, ask for reassurance that she would be by her side if anything went wrong. She felt alone, all alone and lost in this ajeeb world that rarely made sense to her. She was still eight and an orphan who had had the rug pulled from under her feet by the death of her parents.

She crossed her arms to hold herself and wept.

                                                 ***

“Please bring the bride downstairs, Devyaniji,” the priest said. “It is time for the rituals to begin.”

“Yes, panditji,” nani said before turning to Anjali and Payal with a smile. “Bring Khussi bitiya downstairs.”

Anjali made to take a step forward, but Arnav beat her.

“I will get Khushi,” he said, making his way up the steps on quick feet.

He knocked on her door.

“Come in,” she whispered.

It was enough for him. He pushed the door open, stepped in and softly shut the door behind him.

Khushi was sitting on an engraved stool before the dressing table, her divine form in a designer lehenga reflected in the mirror.

She watched him walk to her softly, a large man in a black sherwani and red turban. The sherwani highlighted his broad shoulders and his washboard stomach and the turban gave him a regal look.

He came to stand behind her seated form.

“It is time, Khushi,” he said softly.

Khushi nodded. A tear slipped past the dam she had erected to keep her emotions under control.

“Khushi, please ro mat,” he murmured, wanting badly to touch her to comfort her, but stopping himself from doing so.

Khushi turned on the stool and threw herself at him. Her arms went around his waist and she pressed her face against his tummy.

He folded her close and placed one hand on her head, murmuring, “Khushi, it will be okay.”

“What if... I am... a bad... wife?” she mumbled, sobbing hard.

Arnav almost smiled. “I am more likely to be a hopeless husband than you are to be a bad wife,” he replied honestly.

She lifted her head to look at him.

He nodded. “I have no previous experience as a husband. I am a novice at this job, just as you have never been married before.” He waited for his answer to register in her head. Then he continued, “We will muddle through together.”

She stared at him.

“We will learn together, make mistakes together, correct them together,” he said.

“If I am not a good wife,” she sniffed, “your family and mine...they will be disappointed...”

“Don’t worry, Khushi,” Arnav said softly. He placed his fingers beneath her chin and lifted her face to his. “What happens between us remains between us.”

She looked at him with moist eyes, unable to believe her ears.

“We...we need to learn about each other, learn to adjust,” explained Arnav. “It will take time, but I promise, Khushi, tum aur mein, hamesha.”

She looked into his honest eyes. Tears ran down her wet cheeks.

Arnav dried her face gently. Then he asked, “Ready, Khushi?”

She nodded and reluctantly let go of his waist, feeling bereft at the loss of his warmth. He felt so good, she thought.

“Chalo,” he invited.

Khushi stood up.

Arnav ran deeply appreciative eyes over her slim form in a cream and red lehenga with pearls strewn all over it.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice husky and sincere.

Khushi blushed, feeling warmth spread through her insides.

He wanted to touch her flushed cheek, but told himself, ‘Just a few more minutes. Hang on there. Let the wedding rituals be over and done with.’

He held out his arm.

She curled hers around his.

They left the room.

Mami had to blink away her tears as she saw her Arnav bitwaa lead his bride down the steps to the living room where the mandap had been arranged.

Anjali hugged nani.

Nani silently promised her daughter, Ratna, that Arnav’s life would now be filled with joy.

Garima sighed in relief.

Buaji whispered, “A big responsibility is leaving our shoulders, Nandkisore. It is His kripa that we got such a good family and boy for Khussi.”

“Yes, jiji,” Garima replied softly. “I can't tell you how many nights I have spent worrying about Khussi’s future, about how I will face her mother after my death if we are unable to give Khussi a good life. Devi Maiyya heard my prayers and gave her such a good babua who will put up with her childishness.”

Sasi had to blink his tears away. His younger daughter was getting married and losing her would leave a big void in his heart. The only consolation was that he was handing her over to hands that would keep her safe, to a man who was used to shouldering the burden of an extended family without complaint.

“Sasiji, Garimaji, Madhumatiji, aayiye,” nani invited with a smile. “Let the rituals begin.”