189. OS: 9 The Diabetic and the Halwai (Part 9)

Darlings,

I finally published my romantic novel, A HOME FOR MEENAKSHI on a self-publishing site. It is an e-book. You can purchase it and read it at your leisure. Here's the link. Enjoy!

Link to e-book

http://pothi.com/pothi/book/ebook-smita-ramachandran-home-meenakshi

Part 9

Arnav moved away from her and said reluctantly, “Time for you to go to your room. Looks like someone is awake.”

Khushi blinked.

“Khushi,” he called softly, loving the dazed look in her eyes.

She stared at him silently.

“Khushi, you have to leave now. Koi dekh lega,” he said, a smile on his lips. He held out his hand to help her up from the recliner.

She ignored his hand. Khushi was not bothered about being found in his bedroom at midnight. She had higher things on her mind.

“How come your lips are sweet?” she asked, her voice husky, her senses befuddled.

His eyes flew open.

“You are a diabetic. You can’t take sweets. Then how can you taste so sweet?” she asked directly.

His eyes twinkled in merriment.

“You should taste like karela, but...” Her brain grappled with this vexing problem. “Do I taste bitter?” she asked, worried.

He choked. “No, no. You taste,” he paused. How could he describe her addictive flavour? “Like sugar and spice,” he finally said.

Khushi smiled, happy.

“Khushi, if someone finds you here,” he warned her.

Khushi frowned.

“Both families will fix our marriage at the earliest. We will find ourselves married tomorrow..no, tonight,” he said, looking at the old clock in the room.

Khushi said scoffingly, “No way. They won’t fix my marriage. They know I don’t want to marry.”

Arnav crossed his arms and sighed, a small smile on his lips. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Aapki veg pijja ki kasam,” Khushi replied.

“What will your reply be when they ask you why you came to my bedroom at midnight?” he asked, his head cocked to hear the gems of wisdom falling from her lips.

“I will tell them that I came to scare you,” she replied, quickly picking up the blanket and torch as proof.

“And if they ask why you kissed me?” he asked, enjoying the argument.

“I didn’t kiss you. You kissed me,” she protested, standing up.

“Acha?” he asked. “Why didn’t you push me away?” One eyebrow touched his hairline.

“That..woh...” she floundered. “You are stronger than me. How could I push you away when you were lying over me?” she asked in righteous indignation.

“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t want to kiss me when I told you I was going to kiss you?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips.

Khushi deflated like a pricked balloon but tried to counter him.

“I was too surprised, too shocked...” she replied. Taking the fight to his corner, she attacked him. “What kind of man are you? Kissing strangers? Chi!” she pretended disgust.

Arnav choked back laughter at her drama.

“Do you do this often?” she asked, one supercilious eyebrow raised in imitation of his.

“No, only when beautiful girls creep into my bedroom at midnight,” he teased.

Her mouth fell open.

He stood waiting for her next attack but was surprised.

“I am a beautiful girl?” she asked, her voice full of doubt, her eyes unsure.

Arnav swallowed. How did she disarm him every single time?

He replied seriously, his eyes directly on hers. “I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

She looked at him unblinkingly.

“Lush, silky hair smelling of jasmine...” he began.

“That is the chameli tel I use,” Khushi explained earnestly.

He continued as though she had said nothing, “Skin like ripening wheat, a neck that would put swans to shame, eyes that shine brighter than stars and most seductive of all, your zest for living. Khushi, you are a namuna, a unique piece,” he made love to her with words, with his voice, with his molten eyes.

Her mouth fell open.

“And lips like the petals of a rose,” he said softly.

Her lips trembled. Then she asked, “A red rose?”

“A red rose,” he confirmed, hs voice shaking slightly in mirth.

“Oh,” she thought aloud. “So I am beautiful.”

“Very,” he reassured her, trying to hold back his amusement.

“So you kiss all beautiful girls who visit your bedroom at midnight?” she asked, not wanting to be considered special yet wanting to be special for him.

“Well, yes,” he smiled. “You are the only one who has dared to do so,” he admitted.

She frowned. “Why? Why don’t other girls visit you at night? You kiss well..I mean,” she looked around helplessly. “I have no experience of kissing but you seem OK, nice, good...” Her voice trailed away.

He wiped the smile off his face. “They are scared of me,” he replied.

“Scared? Of you? Why should they be scared of you?” Khushi asked. “What is wrong with the girls of Delhi?”

“I have a bad temper, you see,” he explained.

“So?” she asked, confused.

“I shout,” he admitted.

Khushi laughed. “If you shout at them, they can shout back, can’t they? Devi Maiyya has given them mouths and voices, hasn’t she? Are the girls of Delhi wimps?”

He burst out laughing.

“Ssshhh,” she tried to calm him. “Koi sun lega.”

He took a step towards her. She stepped back. He began to walk towards her, his face filled with amusement and determination and some naughty intention.

She hit the door and stopped.

He came to stand very close to her.

“Why don’t you want to marry, Khushi?” he asked.

Khushi tried to find an answer in her scrambled brain. “Woh...my balushahi,” she began.

“What?” he asked, his lips curving in delight.

“My jalebi and other sweets...I can’t leave them. I won’t leave my Satwik Mishtan Bhandar,” she replied.

“Unbelievable,” he murmured.

“You don’t believe me?” Khushi asked, all injured dignity.

“I believe you,” he said. His breath fell against her face. “I just want you to know...”

“Kya?” she whispered.

“I won’t let any balushahi have you,” he whispered as his lips captured hers once more.

She trembled in his arms.