Trouble Has a New Name (5 page)

Read Trouble Has a New Name Online

Authors: Adite Banerjie

Rayna exhaled noisily. ‘Why don’t you let it go? You refused. End of matter.’

He smiled enigmatically. ‘Let’s say I’m reconsidering your proposal.’

‘Oh!’ His words took her completely by surprise. Did he mean it?
Nah! He’s just toying with you!
‘Suddenly you no longer have a problem being a boy toy?’

She wished she could take the words back. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.’

The cold look in his eyes and the awkward silence that followed made her jittery. ‘My brother always says I have this annoying habit of shooting my mouth off. I guess it will be best if I leave now.’

As she made to get off the parapet, he put his arm around her waist and practically lifted her off. She pushed against him and felt the hard planes of his chest through his jacket but he held her close. Heat slithered in her veins. His breath fanned the hair on her forehead and her own turned shallow. The blood pounded in her ears as she stole a quick look and stopped short at the hot intensity of his gaze. His eyes were focused on her glossy parted lips. He drew his thumb softly over her cheek and her heart tripped a beat before increasing its pace. She was fused to the spot, rooted by his touch, his gaze. She involuntarily leaned a little closer to him. Her lips were a heartbeat away from his.

His breath was on her lips as he whispered in a husky voice, ‘Your brother should have warned you…you get burnt if you play with fire.’ And then he let her go.

Neel dragged himself away from her with difficulty. Ever since she had propositioned him, he could think of little else. It had been like an incessant drone in his head that had him imagining a thousand ways he would ravish her. All evening his eyes had followed her. As soon as she had left her group of friends, he had sought her out. He refused to believe that any woman could rip away his self-control like this. But the moment he was beside her, he could feel his resolve blow away like grains of sand swept by a gust of wind. He wanted to crush her crimson lips with his, seize her in his arms and make wild love to her on the silver sands under the starlit sky.

Raking his hand through his hair, he noticed with grim satisfaction that she was in no better shape than him. Her lips were parted, she was slightly out of breath and she clutched at the railing, leaning against it for support. For all her sophistication and devil-may-care attitude, she seemed almost vulnerable. For someone who had made such a cheeky proposition to him, right now, she didn’t come across as a woman who had enough artifice to flaunt a fake fiancé. Remorse stabbed at his heart for taking out his sexual frustration on her.

His voice softened. ‘Hey, are you all right?’

His words were like a douche of iced water. Her cheeks burnt with embarrassment as she turned away from him, trying to regain her composure. In a choked voice she said, ‘Fine…just fine.’

Yeah, right!
Except that her knees were wobbling like jelly. Even more shocking was the realisation that, ever
since she had clapped her eyes on him, she had been fantasising about him. What would it be like to run her fingers through his hair, feel his hard jaw against her cheek and taste his lips? She had been breathless with anticipation and then…there was nothing! If she could be so turned on by his…non-kiss—
did such a thing even exist?
—what would happen if he actually kissed her?
No, no, no, Rayna. Don’t even go there!

Here she was—supposedly this uber-cool, high-society chick who acquired boy toys for a hobby—swooning at the thought of being kissed! What was it about this infuriating guy that made her behave like a befuddled fool? She gave him a look that she hoped was suitably haughty. ‘Listen, you made it very clear that you have no desire to be my fake fiancé. So there’s no need to get all cosy and cuddly in front of an audience.’

His eyes sparkled with amusement as his voice lowered a notch into a deep husky whisper. ‘It was solely for my benefit, sweetheart. Just a little check to see if there’s enough chemistry going between us to pull off this “we are an engaged couple” act.’

Sweetheart? Really!
‘There’s no need for that,’ she said tightly as she felt her cheeks burn up.

‘I believe in being thorough.’

She gulped hard as his thumb found its way to her cheek and did a slow, seductive massage. Fire trailed across her cheek. ‘And…what have you decided?’

‘Perhaps we should finish what we started before I can make up my mind?’

He was totally incorrigible! How dare he treat her like a lab rat…like she was some fascinating experiment? Eyes blazing, she was ready to give him a piece of her mind when a camera flash nearly blinded her.

‘Well, well, well! This wedding is turning out to be extremely interesting.’ Aziz ‘Yellow Pants’ Shah sniggered.

‘This is a private party, Mr Shah—’ Neel made his irritation more than obvious ‘—you will need permission to use any pictures you take here.’

Neel’s authoritative tone would have put the fear of God in anyone but Shah was unfazed. ‘Sure, sure. No problem.’

Neel nodded curtly. ‘You would do well to remember that.’

Shah was at his unctuous, greasiest best. ‘Of course, sir. How can I abuse the hospitality of my host? You have an extremely beautiful resort, sir.’

Neel angled his head slightly. ‘Thank you. Now, if you would excuse us, please.’

Neel glanced at Rayna, who took his cue and started walking away. But, as she passed him, Shah remarked, ‘Rayna, you must be pleased to be among so many friends, including your
very
good friends Sid Verma and…uh…Karisma Mehta.’

Rayna swallowed the bile that rose to her throat. ‘They’re here? Can’t wait to meet them.’

Neel’s face was grim as they walked away. Her head was still reeling from the interaction with Shah and she wondered aloud, ‘Why would Milee or Chris invite this creep? He is a scandalmonger of the worst kind.’

CHAPTER FIVE

I
T HAD TURNED
out to be the Mother of all Disastrous Days. For the rest of the evening Rayna had maintained as low a profile as she could. She felt like a prisoner who was trapped on the island with all her problems and no hope of escape. She had been so tense that Milee ordered her back to the villa to rest. Not that she would be able to sleep a wink given the state of her nerves. She decided to try out the Jacuzzi and murmured with satisfaction when the swirling water began to work its magic and washed away her angst. In her dreamy state, she wondered what it would be like to share the pool with the grey-eyed hotelier. And there he was…in his sexy trunks, his hair dripping, his eyes smouldering with passion, as water pooled at his feet. She nearly swallowed a bellyful of water and came up spluttering. Heart in her mouth, she realised with a twinge of disappointment that she was only dreaming.
Dream on, Rayna!

The next morning she was up bright and early and on her way to the shoot. Last night’s hydra treatment had sorted it out for her. Sid. Karisma. Sleazy Shah. Agra Aunty. They could take a flying leap into the Indian Ocean for all she cared. For now, she was ready
to check out the beaches, do some filming, sip coconut water, gorge on lobsters and live it up. As for don’t-play-with-fire Neel, she was safe as long as she did all her fantasising in the Jacuzzi. Face-to-face, she would be the Countess of Chill personified! She strapped on her beach sandals, slathered on some sunscreen and she was ready to go.

She crossed the hotel lobby and headed for the car park. Her heart missed a beat as she spotted Neel with Julie. Looking super-hot in an olive crew-neck T-shirt and faded jeans, he was leaning against an open-topped Jeep.
Remember, Rayna, you’re the Countess of Chill!

Neel straightened up as Rayna approached them. She was picture-perfect in hot-pink shorts, showing off long bronzed legs. A matching crop top peeked from under the lacy white shirt she had knotted at her waist. A glimpse of her sexy belly button was enough to make his blood pump hard and fast. She looked like strawberry ice cream—cool, delicious and good to eat.

She smiled broadly and called out, ‘Good morning! Hope I didn’t keep you all waiting.’

‘Morning, Rayna!’ Julie said. ‘You’re right on time. Neel was just briefing us on the locations where we will be shooting. It’s going to be a day out at the beach. Ready for action?’

‘Raring to go,’ she quipped. ‘By the way, hope you have a tube of sunscreen in your bag.’

‘Oh, yes, thanks for reminding me. Don’t want to end up looking like a baked lobster. I really envy you Indian girls your lovely chocolate skin tone.’

‘Julie, in India, fair
is
lovely,’ she said wryly. ‘Chocolate skin tone is so not cool.’

As they all piled into the vehicles, she found herself
seated next to Neel, who was driving the open-topped Jeep. He hadn’t said a word and she felt a nervous flutter in the pit of her stomach. His thigh was inches away from hers. Last night’s non-kiss came sharply back into focus. For a moment she wondered what would have happened if Sleazy Shah hadn’t butted in when he did. She drew a deep breath, fervently wishing she could flip a switch to stop all these wayward thoughts from streaming through her brain like a titillating slide show.

‘What?’ she asked in an irritation-tinged voice. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

‘I didn’t expect you to be self-conscious about your skin colour,’ he remarked quietly.

‘You mean my
dusky
skin colour!’ she said, a trifle sarcastic. ‘I am not conscious about it—at least not any more. There used to be a time, though, in my teenage years when I longed for a lovely peaches-and-cream complexion.’

‘How did you get over it?’

‘It was quite funny, actually.’ She recalled one of her first assignments. ‘I was at an audition for a skin cream advert and a bunch of us nervous newcomers were waiting to be called in. Suddenly one of the guys from the client’s team takes one look at me and says to the model coordinator, “We don’t need dark-skinned girls like her. We’re doing an ad for a face cream for fair skin.”‘

She could still feel her skin break out in goose pimples at the implied insult. After years of being taunted by fair-as-a-princess Sudha Bhabhi that she would never find a suitable boy because of her dark skin, the casually thrown remark had cut her to the bone. ‘Trust me to shoot off my smart mouth—”Didn’t you know dusky is sexy?” I said.’

Neel cracked a smile. ‘Good for you.’

Rayna laughed. ‘Everyone was in a state of shock. But luckily the executive had a sense of humour. Eventually, I think, he was shamed into selecting me. And, as far as I know, sales of their product didn’t nosedive because they had hired poor ole
dusky
me!’ But one thing was for sure—it had cured her of her complexion complex for ever. And she’d resolved never to do a face cream ad ever again.

‘Selling hope in a bottle. That’s what marketing is really about.’

She nodded. ‘Don’t tell me you have a PhD in consumer psychology?’

He flashed her one of his dazzling dimples. ‘Nope. Just done a fair amount of people-watching.’

She tore her eyes away from him before he caught her staring. Taking a deep breath to quieten her runaway heart, she looked out at the idyllic surroundings. A man on a creaky cycle with a large bundle strapped on the carrier made slow progress. Young girls with school backpacks giggled and waved as they passed by. A group of buxom women with baskets of fish sang lustily on their way to the marketplace. At intermittent intervals, they came across tiny shops selling everything from dry grocery goods to tender coconut. Palm trees swayed in the sea-scented breeze and in the distance she spotted a coconut grove.

She couldn’t help thinking aloud. ‘After Mumbai, this place has such a pristine feel to it.’

Neel glanced across at her and saw her wide-eyed look. He had been just as wonderstruck when he’d first arrived at the island. ‘Yes, it’s like being transported to a different world.’

‘So—’ she gave him a long sideways glance ‘—why did you pick such a remote place to build your resort?’

He had welcomed the opportunity to flee to a tiny island where he could hide from the world, lick his wounds and salvage whatever little self-esteem he still had.

‘Who told you I built the resort?’ he said enigmatically.

‘You didn’t?’ Her voice betrayed her surprise. ‘But I thought you and Chris are co-owners?’

‘There used to be an old tourist lodge here and the authorities leased it out for the construction of a hotel. I was recruited by the company that held the lease to oversee the project.’

‘Really? From a hired hand to a resort owner…how did that happen?’

His eyes crinkled at the edges as he reminisced. ‘Sometimes opportunities land in your lap out of nowhere and it makes you wonder if someone up there has some kind of game plan for you.’

Her eyebrows shot up at his comment and the crease in his cheek deepened. ‘What? Have I sprouted a second head or have I suddenly grown horns?’

She laughed. ‘You don’t look the type who believes in destiny.’

‘The jury is still out on that.’ He smiled—this time a bit self-consciously—and Rayna intuitively knew he regretted letting slip something so intensely personal about himself.

‘That’s all you are going to say?’ The appeal in her eyes was quite impossible to ignore.

He shot her an amused look. ‘What more do you want to know?’

‘Come on, you know…the whole rags-to-riches success story.’

‘It’s not like what you read in those glossy business magazines. Neither riches, nor rags. Just…’

‘Blood, sweat and tears?’

‘Go easy with the clichés,’ he said, laughing.

She was relentless, quite like a dog with a bone. ‘You always wanted to be in the hotel business?’

‘Not really. My father ran a moderately successful Kashmiri restaurant called Wazwan in New Delhi. And my goal had been to carry on with the business and some day open up outlets in other cities. A few months after I graduated in hotel management, my father passed away, leaving behind huge debts. We had to sell off the restaurant and that was the end of my plan.’

His eyes had a hard faraway look as he rattled off the details. That told its own story—of difficult times that had left more than a few emotional scars as their legacy. Neel flashed back to the months following Papa’s death. Everything had gone so out of kilter.

Meera’s moods swung from extreme depression to violent outbursts. When she was diagnosed with dysthymia, it added to the pall of gloom at home. The psychiatrist reckoned Papa’s passing had only made her condition worse and it would take months—if not years—of therapy and psychiatric care for any significant improvement. Ma, ever stoic, presented a brave face, but his heart wrenched when he heard her stifling her sobs in bed at night. The creditors had started clamouring for money and, combined with the mounting medical bills, the sale of the restaurant had been inevitable. It broke his heart to sell off Wazwan, which had been his father’s legacy and so much a part of
his growing up years, but then what other option did he have?

All he wanted was to survive and make sure Ma and Meera were taken care of. He joined a small chain of eateries as assistant manager, where he had met Shiva. Patient, practical, compassionate Shiva had been the emotional anchor he hadn’t realised he needed. Soon after, Pia had entered his life and in less than a year had exited it again. Stripping him of every shred of self-esteem. Making him feel like such a loser. His only thought had been of escape.

‘What happened next?’ Rayna prompted and he snapped back to the present.

Fate had stepped in to give him the break that he craved—a phone call from an old schoolmate who was looking for someone who could help convert a tourist lodge into a hotel in the Andaman Islands. He had lunged at the chance. The attractive salary they offered would help in getting the best treatment for Meera.

‘I applied for the job of supervising the renovation project and landed up here.’

The property owners were more than happy to find someone who would relocate to a remote island in the Andamans and they were willing to overlook his lack of experience in the field. ‘So here I was, learning from scratch…about water management, using local materials, handling labour issues, dealing with the authorities.’

It was just what he had needed—an escape from the torturous memories of his shattered relationship with Pia, from his guilt at not being able to do enough for Meera and his mother, from everything that was familiar and tinged with the dark colours of pain. He had exiled himself to the furthest corner of the country. The
only two persons he would contact were Ma and Dr Banerjee, Meera’s psychiatrist.

‘Just when the resort was nearing completion, the lease owners decided to sell off their stake to the investors who were backing them. The property changed hands and Chris came into the picture. He had exciting plans for the project and many of our ideas complemented each other. He offered me a stake in the property and I readily accepted.’ He had invested a part of the money from the sale of Wazwan and it had grown into a sizeable nest egg, which came in handy. As for the rest, he had been able to secure it through bank loans.

‘Whoa!’ she said. ‘Impressive! But it couldn’t have been as easy as you make it out. You didn’t miss your family, your friends?’

If only she knew how much he had missed being there for Meera and his mother when they needed him most! But, given their precarious financial situation, he didn’t have the luxury of choice.

He shrugged enigmatically. ‘As they say, you have to lose something to gain something—clichéd but true.’

The steel was back in those grey eyes. Rayna knew better than to push him for more details. For a brief moment he had given her a glimpse into his inner world—and she realised without a shred of doubt that it was one of those rare times he had opened up to anyone.

As Neel swerved the Jeep onto a narrow winding road, she spied tantalising glimpses of the blue-green ocean through the lush greenery. Within moments they were at the beach. The most stunning view greeted them—emerald waters and silver sands spread out as far as the eye could see, with coconut palms hugging the shore all along. The sky had shed its early morning
blues and was turning a brighter orangey-yellow. ‘Gorgeous!’

Yes, indeed she was gorgeous, thought Neel, as she pushed open the door, swung her long legs out and headed towards Julie and the TV crew. He’d better watch out before she had him wrapped around her little finger.

Julie was shaking her head in disbelief. ‘It’s difficult to imagine such a deserted spot anywhere in India. It’s almost like a private beach.’

Neel smiled. ‘Welcome to Emerald Isle.’

‘Is that the original name for the island?’ asked Julie. ‘No. But since we were competing with Havelock Island we decided to go with Emerald Isle to attract high-value tourists.’

‘Smart marketing strategy,’ said Rayna.

Julie nodded. ‘Yes, it all comes down to smart marketing, doesn’t it? A romantic hideaway. A honeymooner’s paradise. We want to get some of that feel in our short film. Wish we had known about Chris and Milee’s wedding a bit in advance. Then we could have had the two of them anchor the show.’

One of the TV crew members, who was within earshot, joked, ‘Hey, in case you two have any plans for getting hitched, now’s the time. Go for it.’

While everyone laughed, Rayna noticed that Neel was glowering at them.

Julie winked at Rayna. ‘I guess this romantic ambience is getting to Paul as well.’

After shooting at the beach, the TV crew ambled through the village, videoing the daily routine of island life. The simple villagers were delighted to be filmed
and welcomed them into their homes with offerings of delicious coconut water and banana fritters.

Neel was determined to avoid Rayna, who amused herself by playing with the children. She felt like a magician as she fished out a tube of lipstick from her purse and gave it to one of the little girls, who scooted away to show it off to her friends.

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