43. Falling in Love



Khushi hobbled towards the only chair in her room, trying to hold on to it to spare her hurt ankle, and found herself swept into Arnavji's strong arms. She stared at him in shock. Who was this man? Shaitan one moment. Rajkumar the next. His eyes never left hers and seemed to see through her confused mind as he carried her across the living room to the veranda so that she could gather the sun-dried clothes.
She made a feeble attempt at stopping him.
"Arnavji, please let me down. I will..."
The next thing she knew, they were falling to the ground with a thud.She was lying safe within Arnavji's protective arms, her heart thudding against his, feeling warm and loved...
She opened her eyes and looked into his. He looked as though the fall had hurt him.



(Sarun_deewani, thanx!)

"Aap theek he?", she asked, anxious. Her beautiful, expressive eyes looked worried, a film of tears dulling their brilliance, their depths revealing her love and care that she couldn't hide. He felt his heart soar. His mildly sore back was forgotten.
"Hai Re Nandkisore! Arnav babua, Titliyaa! What happened?"
Bujai and Amma came running, and helped them to their feet. Arnav held Khushi by the arm, not wanting her to use her hurt ankle.
Buaji said apologetically, "Babua, the roof leaks in places. The floor is wet..."
"It is all right, Buaji. I wasn't looking at the floor...", he said, his eyes on Khushi's face that turned red to match her dress. She blinked to get rid of the tears caused by his distress, and shrugged off his arm.
"Did you hurt your back, Damadji?", asked a worried Amma.
"Looks like it.", said Arnav with a grimace.
"Bitwaa, chalo, lie down in your room. Titliyaa, apply the balm on his back. Rub it in.", advised Buaji.
"Ji, Buaji...", said Khushi in a feeble voice.
"Help Bitwaa to your room, Khussi.", said Amma. "He may find it difficult to walk."
Arnav could run. The twinge in his back was a minor irritant. Nothing more. But he was not one to lose a golden opportunity.
"Khushi...", he called for help, his right arm extended as though to pass over her frail shoulders.
Khushi deliberately misunderstood his intention. Her sanity depended on her keeping a distance from him. She caught hold of his arm as though he were a hundred years old, and tried to lead him to the bedroom.
"Offo, Titliyaa! Support his weight. How else will Damadji reach the bed? I will bring ginger tea for you both.", said Buaji, pinching Arnav's chin fondly.
Khushi fumed. Arnav smiled inwardly at her helpless fury, and passed his arm over her shoulders. Buaji and Amma went to the kitchen. Arnav pulled Khushi closer under his arm so that he could support her and lessen the load on her hurt ankle. He deliberately walked slowly, taking his time, enjoying the feel of his wife by running his fingers up and down her trembling arm...

He locked the bedroom door. Khushi looked anxiously at him, something about him warning her that he was not in the mood to be a good boy.
He slowly undid the buttons of his brown vest, his intent gaze on hers, trapping her eyes, unwilling to let her go. She grew flustered, her fingers clutching the sides of her red anarkali. What was he doing? Why was he removing the vest? And why had he locked the door?
He threw the vest on the back of the chair, and his fingers progressed to the buttons of his shirt. He started with the lowest one, and slowly moved his way up, sliding each button out of its loop with skilled precision. His eyes remained locked on her eyes that resembled saucers. A small smile twisted his lips. Finally! The buttons were all undone. As was Khushi. Her face looked pale with shock, her chest heaved...Her lips parted to aid breathing, while her eyes refused to part from the manly expanse of his chest.
"Khushi!", he called softly, shrugging out of his shirt and throwing it on the chair in a smooth motion.
She dragged her eyes up from his bare chest to reach his eyes. His burning eyes that seemed eager to swallow her alive...
"The balm.", he reminded, naughty laughter in his voice.
"Uuhh?"
"Buaji's balm. You are supposed to apply it on my back..." He smiled at her.
"Haan...", she managed to gather herself together. "Please l..lie down on the b..bed. I will... I will get the balm."
She returned to the bed to find him lying on his front, his face pressed against her pillows. He breathed in deep. They smelt of her.


(Mariam_Sultan, thanx!)

The jasmine scent of her skin had rubbed off on the pillows and the bedspread. He turned his head slightly to look at the stars dangling over the bed. Being in her room was like entering her world, her mind, her space...He buried his face in her pillows. He loved it. The sensation of having invaded her soul was very satisfying to him.
He felt her join him on the bed. He turned his head slightly to look at her. She was perched on the side of her bed like a bird ready to fly away at the slightest threat.
She looked at the broad expanse of his bare back. Her sweaty palm tightened around the bottle of balm. She took a deep, shaky breath.
"Where...where should I...?"
"The base of my spine."
"Ji..." She took a glob of the pungent balm, and slowly spread it at the base of his spine, just above the line of his brown trousers. Buaji had asked her to rub it in. She swallowed, and brought both hands to use, slowly spreading the balm over the area and rubbing the hurt away. A tingle ran from her fingers to the rest of her body, causing every nerve and sinew to tremble. Arnav clenched his fingers around her pillow. The feel of her soft, warm hands on the taut skin of his back was enough to unman him. The only thing that stopped him from pouncing on her and devouring her was her trepidation, aptly conveyed through her shaking fingers. But he had only 12 days to make her admit that she loved him. That she was his wife, and he her husband. And only 24 hours to make her realise that all she wanted was hers. Including him...
He had no time to lose. The tears in her eyes at his distress was a positive sign. He needed to build on that.
"You must have felt happy when I fell...?", he probed, eager to plumb the depths of her love for him.
He could feel her reproachful eyes bore a hole at the back of his head. Her silence was telling.
He jumped up from the bed, and brought her down with a flying tackle, her head against the two pillows, her hands on his shoulder and arm.
"Yeh aap kya kar rehe he?" She drew her hands back as though his skin had burnt them, her wide-eyed gaze thrilling him no end.
"Jab tum chup hoti ho, tab tumhari ankhein sab kuch sach sach bol deti he, Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada!"
She looked into his eyes that were too close to her for comfort. Her eyes slid down to his stubborn nose, his wicked lips that stole her sleep, his jutting chin, his strong neck, broad, muscular shoulders... Her heart beat sounded louder than a drum, her breathing was irregular and rushed. No, Khushi. That way lay danger! She forced her eyes back to his. How could his eyes be so tempting, so adept at luring her to her doom, so... so...
"Khushi...", he whispered, his husky voice sending a thrill down her poor spine.
Her eyes! He could read her eyes! She hid them from him, lowering her eyelashes to conceal her weakness for him.
"Khushi, look at me..." , he entreated, ordered.
She shook her head to signal 'no'.
"Khushi..."
Something in his tone made her look up. His lips were coming closer to hers, angled to capture hers...
She panicked. She knew that his lips could touch hers and make her lose control,  turn her into his slave, ready to do his bidding for another fix of his addictive touch. She pushed at his shoulders with all her might, squirming to free her body pinned to the bed by his left leg draped over her. He held her easily, her puny arms incapable of breaking his hold on her, her writhing body testing his self-control, her wriggling bringing her into close contact with his hot, hard body. Her hands slid down to his muscled chest, pushing frantically to put some distance between them. But he held her close, locking her in place, enjoying the feel of his wife in his arms. Mindful of the many times he had tried to kiss her and the many times he had missed, he swooped down and placed his warm, firm lips against her soft, fuller ones without much ado. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to repulse him, distance him from her mind. Her body jerked, bucked as though to throw him away from hers, but he persisted, and slowly moved his lips gently over hers, learning every curve, savouring every taste, delighting in every helpless reaction of hers.
He lifted his lips from hers, giving her a respite from the overpowering swell of sensations that his lips had produced in her. She gasped, dragging much-needed air into her lungs through parted lips. He swooped down once more, this time more sure of her. He explored every nook and cranny of her mouth, relishing her honey-like sweetness, his tongue provoking hers to duel with his...
The knock on the door brought him to his senses. He freed her lips with great reluctance. She lay still, her eyes still closed, panting, her lips like crushed red rose petals, devastated by the flood of feelings that his lips had created in her...
"Khushi...", his oh-so-deliciously-husky voice murmured. "Open your eyes..."
Her eyelashes fluttered open. He could lose himself in the depths of her eyes that reflected her wonder and pleasure at what she had experienced now. He swallowed hard.
Buaji knocked on the door again.
"Damadji, Sanka Devi! Your tea!"
She was in no position to leave the bed. He ran a finger down her rosy cheek, smiling tenderly, and walked to the door, still shirtless.
Buaji stared to see him at the door. He took the tray from her.
"Bitwaa, tum? Why did Khusii make you come to the door? How is your back?", Amma asked, confused.
"Err... I am much better...much better now.", he stammered.
Buaji peeped in to see Khushi lying on the bed. "Kya hua, Nandkisore?"
"Err..., she sprained her ankle. But she is OK. I applied your balm."
"Theek he, Nandkisore! Take rest, both of you." Buaji caressed his cheek. "We will call you for lunch."
Arnav smiled at them. They left. He closed the door after them. As he fastened the bolt, he heard them talking.
"Jiji, Damadji has hurt his back, and Khussi has hurt her leg...", Amma giggled.
"Chalo, Garima...", Buaji chided her sister-in-law. "Don't make fun of our Bitwaa! Par Nandkisore, I have to say this. What a pair! What a pair!"
He could hear them laughing as they went to the kitchen. He smiled fondly at their laughter, and turned to walk to his wife waiting for him in their bed.