A Scandalous Proposition (6 page)

“You?” she stuttered, shaken by the brief contact.

“How is Reema?”

“Sleeping now, but she was a bit disturbed,” she replied.

“I can understand that. She’s been through a scary
experience, but she’ll get over it.”

“Thank God you reached there in time,” shuddered Mira. “I
couldn’t have handled those men by myself.”

“I’ve asked Tarun to check who they were. They were
obviously gate-crashers or guests of other guests, because Tarun doesn’t know
them.”

Mira looked up at him. Ranbir’s face still showed anger. It
was obviously a big thing with him that such a security slip had occurred at Dewan
Kutir. She had been surprised at the gentle yet firm way in which he had
reassured Reema, stemmed her tears.

“Thank you,” she said, “for what you did for Reema.” He
remained silent. “You know,” she continued shyly, “if this had happened even
two months ago, Reema would have wanted to go home at once to Ma. Today, she
has not talked of it even once. It’s all thanks to you. I think she feels safe
with you.”

“It was the least I could do,” he said finally as they stood
near the parapet, gazing meditatively at the horizon.

“What do you think?” asked Mira after a moment. “Will Chachi
agree to their getting married? She seems to have softened a bit towards Reema,
but….”

“We’ll have to wait a little longer and see,” said Ranbir,
flexing his hands before him. “I’m going out of town for a couple of days, but
when I come back, we’ll move things one way or the other.” Mira looked at him
enquiringly and he continued after a pause, “You see, Chachi thinks she knows
what kind of daughter-in-law she would like—smart, sophisticated, beautiful and
able to handle herself in society.”

“In short, everything Reema is not?!”

“More importantly, everything Chachi herself is not. She
sincerely believes that Chacha would have been much more of a success if she
had been more able to handle the social side of his business—like Dadi does.
And now she doesn’t want Tarun to face a similar handicap. What she doesn’t
understand is that Chacha loves her deeply and holds none of her supposed
shortcomings against her. Neither does Dadi.” He turned towards her, his eyes
softening slightly as they took in her troubled countenance.

Mira sighed and turned around so that her back was to the
parapet, her palms resting on its edge. “I know that,” she said. “Dadi jumps to
her rescue if Chacha ever says anything to her. And, despite her sharp tongue,
she seems equally devoted to Dadi.”

“What Chachi also doesn’t realize,” continued Ranbir,
looking directly at her, “is that Tarun is like Chacha. He likes a simple life,
prefers to stay at home and enjoys being with the family. A socialite wife of
the kind Chachi hankers after would ruin his life, make it a nerve-shattering
round of parties and, frankly, I don’t think Tarun would be able to cope. Reema
is just right for him. In fact, I’m impressed by the fine instinct he has shown
in falling in love with her.”

Mira looked at him in surprise. “You said she was after his
money!” she exclaimed.

“Well, now I know better,” he said.

“Wow,” she mocked. “The great Mr. Ranbir Dewan admitting he
made a mistake. Breaking news!”

“Don’t laugh, girl,” he growled, pulling her roughly against
him. Mira felt her senses spin as she came up against the hard male length of
him. Ranbir cupped her chin and raised her face up to his. She bit her lip. She
couldn’t think straight with him so tantalizingly close, with his very essence
filling her senses and causing her breath to catch. She tried to turn her face
away, but his hands prevented any movement.

A strange look came into Ranbir’s eyes as he caught her desperate
little movements. “Mira, Mira, Mira,” he said softly, “you don’t know how you
provoke me!” His face was inches away from hers, his lips coming closer. She
closed her eyes. A curious kind of inertia possessed her and she felt unwilling
to break out of the warmth of his arms. She sighed as she felt his lips touch
hers, his tongue seeking the warmth and sweetness it craved. Her hands found
their way to his chest, bracing herself against the onslaught of his mouth.

“Aahh, you taste so sweet,” murmured Ranbir, as his tongue
moved to her ear lobe and then traced its way down her jawline to her chin.
Mira could not have moved even if she had wished to, the sensations shooting
through her were so intense. Instead, she found herself curling her hands in
Ranbir’s hair and drawing him closer to her, shuddering as she felt his tongue
work its way down her neck where an erratic pulse beat a frenzied tattoo. She
could feel her breasts swell as his hands gripped her waist and his leg worked
its way between hers. When his hands moved up to the drawstring that held the
neck of her
kurta
together, she felt herself go limp. She heard the
little bells at the ends of the drawstring jingle as he untied the knot and
felt the top of her
kurta
slip down as his tongue worked its way to the
shadowed skin between her breasts. “So sweet, like a peach,” whispered Ranbir
as he bent to take her nipple in his mouth and began to suckle it.

Mira felt a storm begin to build in her innermost core. She
was being ripped apart by feelings she had never known before. Her hands curled
tightly in the dark hair of the man who was pleasuring her so intently, her
back arching to offer him more of the sweetness he was plundering. “Ranbir!”
she moaned, lost in the waves of sensation that were engulfing her.

The terrace door banged, startling her from the sensuous
haze that had engulfed her. She brought her hands down to push Ranbir from her
breasts. He murmured indistinctly, his mouth rising again to claim her lips,
one hand caressing her waist and moving even lower.

With an effort, Mira turned her face away. “Stop it, Ranbir,
stop it right now!” she said, her voice shaking.

“What the…?” he said thickly, his eyes still glazed with
desire. She pushed him away in a hasty gesture.

“Someone might come up,” she said, hastily pulling up the
bodice of her
kurta
and doing up the drawstring, not meeting his eyes.
She moved to one side.

“It was just the breeze. Mira, come here,” he said, taking a
step towards her. “Stop being a tease!”

“Ranbir, no!” she said shakily. “What we’re doing…were
doing…is wrong. I don’t know what came over me.”

Ranbir’s face tightened. “What we were doing?” he said
harshly. “I’m attracted to you, I told you that. And I can feel you’re
attracted to me. We are free adults and if we choose to act on our mutual
attraction, how can that be wrong?”

“Because there’s no love,” said Mira, “because we’re not
married.”

“Love? Why do you need love? And marriage? You’re holding
out for marriage? Well then, marry me! Will that take care of your middle-class
scruples?” She began sobbing in earnest then, anger taking over from all other
emotions.

He looked at her. “Come now, Mira,” he said, taking hold of
her hands with one hand and wiping her tears with a handkerchief, “you saw how
good we were together. I have to have you. If the price is marriage, so be it.
We could get married the Monday after the conference. I’ll get Jasmine to apply
for a license right away.”

“Don’t…” she pleaded, choking back a fresh wave of sobs.
“You don’t love me…”

“Love doesn’t come into it, you silly girl! Were you really
expecting to fall in love before you got married? Come to think of it, our
getting married could work out to everyone’s convenience. Chachi cannot in all
sincerity look down on Reema when she’s my wife’s sister. And once things are
sorted out with Tarun and Reema, we can decide whether we want to stay together
or get divorced. Though I warn you, not a
paisa
will you get from me in
alimony. My lawyers will take care of that.”

Mira felt her insides shrivel at his words. More tears
welled up in her eyes, but she dashed them away with the back of her hand,
ignoring the handkerchief that was still before her. “Is that all marriage
means to you, Ranbir?” she said, summoning up her anger and willing back the
tears. “You’ll marry me to slake your…your…lust for me? And then throw me out
like you would an old shirt? I mean nothing to you?”

She dashed towards the terrace door, banging it shut behind
her, tears blinding her hasty descent down the stairs and into her room, where
Reema was fast asleep. She stumbled into the bathroom, choking back her sobs.
Ranbir had made her feel like…like…a tramp! How could he?

As the tempest of tears abated, she buried her face in her
hands. Her skin was still heated where he had touched her and she could still
feel the hot tingle he had started in her innermost core. How could she have
let him do…all that…to her? How could she have let him see her…her breasts…kiss
them? How could she have been so shameless? How? No wonder he thought she would
be willing to let him take it further.

And yet, there was a part of her that had wanted him to not
stop out there on the terrace, to go on till she was truly his. It was as if
Ranbir had cast a spell over her. When she was with him, all reason and sense
seemed to fly out of the window. All her awareness seemed concentrated on just
one point—Ranbir. It was as if she became a different person. Ranbir, too, it
seemed, was a different man with her. More tears escaped as she remembered how
warm and gentle he had been with Reema. Why was he so autocratic, so demanding,
with her? Why did they rub each other the wrong way all the time?

Mira could not understand her own emotions. If she wanted
him to make love to her so urgently, why had she turned down his proposal? Why
had she been so reluctant to take the half cup he had offered? She made a
choking sound as sudden realization dawned. She was in love with Ranbir,
hopelessly and madly in love with a ruthless autocrat, who had made it very
clear that she would never be a permanent part of his life.

***

Ranbir strode the length of the terrace angrily after Mira
ran away. Frustration gave a keen edge to his anger. He couldn’t believe Mira
had said no to him. He could have sworn she was as strongly attracted to him as
he was to her. He had not imagined the way she had melted into his arms, the
trembling of her slender body as he explored it with his lips.

A faint smile crossed his lips. Well, Ranbir Dewan, he
thought ruefully, this is one for the books—the first time you propose to a
girl, she turns you down. Who would have thought it? He was genuinely puzzled
by Mira’s reaction. What did she want? Wasn’t marriage the card she had been
playing for? Well, he had offered it to her and she had thrown it back in his
face. Of course, his offer had been impetuous, made in the throes of thwarted
passion. He probably would have regretted it the next day. So, maybe, it was
for the best that things had turned out the way they had. Only, why, in that
case, was he so upset about her refusing him?

He made his way down the stairs. As he passed Dadi’s room,
he noticed that her light was still on. He opened the door silently. His
grandmother was sitting up in bed, her prayer beads in her hand. She looked up
at him and put aside her beads. “Are you all right, Dadi?” he asked, concern
writ large on his face.

“Are
you
all right,
beta
?” she asked, looking
at him.

Ranbir dashed the back of his hand against his mouth and
pulled up a chair to sit beside her. “Not really, Dadi,” he said ruefully. Dadi
had been his confidante since his parents’ death. She could read his face like
a book.

“Mira?” she asked gently.

He looked up shocked. “How did you …?”

“Sshh,” she said. “You think I haven’t noticed the way the
two of you fight, the way your eyes still follow each other despite that? Even
when you were telling me about Reema, I heard more about Mira than Reema, so
much so that it made me curious to meet the child. That’s why I fell in with
your plan to have both of them stay here.”

There was a moment of silence. “Did she refuse you?” Dadi
asked softly.

Ranbir’s face darkened and he looked away. Dadi put her hand
on his arm. “
Beta
,” she said slowly, “I know you have flirted with many
girls—probably even gone further—I wouldn’t want to know. But true love is a
great humbler—the fact that you are rich, handsome and powerful will mean
nothing to it. Mira is different, and it’s up to you to understand it. She has
been brought up with middle class values and, from what I have seen of her, she
has a great sense of family and traditions. Such a girl will not settle for a
cheap transaction.”

Ranbir mulled over her words. Dadi studied him gravely for a
few minutes, stroking his arm gently as she had done when he was a child,
letting her words sink in. Then she spoke again. “True love is both rare and
elusive, so don’t let it escape you when it comes your way,” she said, eyes
focused intently on Ranbir. He looked up at her, then nodded ruefully. What a
fool he had been!

“Will you tell her?” asked the old lady, as he got up and
pushed the chair back into place.

He turned back from the door at her question. “Yes, but not
immediately,” he said. “Mira’s not too well disposed towards me at the moment.
I’ll wait for her to cool down a bit.”

“Don’t make me wait too long,” said Dadi, smiling fondly at
him. “Double weddings are so much more fun!”

≈

EIGHT

Mira was subdued for the next couple
of days. Reema wondered what was wrong, but the grim look on her sister’s face
stopped her from asking. In the cafeteria, Dhruv shook his head silently when
she cut the carrots in rounds, instead of juliennes, for the salad. Something
was definitely wrong, he thought, it wasn’t like Mira to be so quiet for so
long. Or to be absent-minded about her work, for that matter. But he, too,
decided against asking her what was wrong.

One afternoon, Jasmine walked in, frowning and looking
totally frazzled. “Where’s Dhruv?” she asked. “Ranbir wants to see him in his
office.”

“He’s out for a cigarette,” said Mira shortly.

“Is that a pot of tea you’ve got there?” asked Jasmine
eagerly. “I could do with one.” Mira poured her a cup.

Jasmine sat down in front of her and took a sip. “Ummm,
ginger,” she said, leaning back. “And spices… heavenly!” Mira remained silent,
stirring her cup gloomily.

“Problem?” Jasmine asked presently. Mira yanked herself back
from her thoughts with an effort.

“No, nothing really. Just thinking. How about you? You’re
looking pretty haggard.”

“I’ve hit a real thumper,” sighed Jasmine. “The caterer for
next week’s annual conference dinner just called to cancel. Apparently, the
chef is in hospital.”

“Surely you must have a list of caterers?” Mira asked
sympathetically.

“Yes, for most occasions,” said Jasmine. “But Mrs. Dewan is insisting
on a pure Vaishnav
meal for the dinner. It will be near impossible to
find another caterer who will agree to prepare the kind of meal she wants at
such short notice. There’s no rest for the wicked.” She sighed again. “Well, I
must be off then. Send Dhruv to Ranbir’s office, will you?”

Mira looked thoughtfully into the empty cup in her hand. She
was still contemplating it when Dhruv came back. He walked over to the counter
and poured himself a cup of tea. He looked at Mira who was still lost in her
reverie and cleared his throat noisily. “More tea for you?” he asked, as she
looked up startled.

“Dhruv!” she burst out. “I have an idea.” He looked at her
enquiringly. It was the most animated he had seen Mira for days. “But, oh,
you’d better go and meet Ranbir first. Jasmine was here to call you.”

When Dhruv came back, he was trembling with excitement.
“Guess what!?” he said plonking himself on the chair beside her. “Ranbir wants
us to…”

“Organize the dinner after the conference…” Mira finished
for him, her natural ebullience reasserting itself after days.

“How did you know?” he asked in amazement.

“That was the idea I had, remember, I wanted to tell you
when you walked in from your break? Jasmine told me about the caterer pulling
out at the last minute.”

“And you think we can do it?”

“Of course, Dhruv, we cook for a good three hundred people
every day. And we cook more or less what Mrs. Dewan wants.” He remained silent
till she couldn’t bear it any more. “Look, Dhruv, you’ve said often enough that
you want to branch out into a restaurant sooner or later. Here’s the perfect
opportunity! Think how many people there will be at that dinner. You’ll have
them all queuing up at your door later.” Mira looked at him pleadingly.

“Okay, okay,” laughed Dhruv, putting up his hands in mock
surrender. “I’ve already said yes to Ranbir. We’ll need some more people and I
have a couple of friends who’re between jobs at the moment. Ranbir has agreed
to let me hire them for a couple of days.”

“Well, that’s settled then!” said Mira happily. “Where shall
we start?”

“We have to present a basic plan of action tomorrow morning
and then start taster sessions whenever we’re free from the regular cafeteria
work. And Mira…”

“Yes?” she asked, smiling happily up at him.

“It’s nice to have the old Mira back. Don’t let her
disappear again, will you?”

When they went into Ranbir’s office the next morning, Ajay
Dewan was also there with his nephew. He smiled at Dhruv and Mira as they
entered.

“Guys,” said Ranbir, “are you sure you can handle this? I
don’t want a single thing to go wrong. The Dewan Group’s honor is at stake
here. If you have even the slightest doubt, tell us now.”

“Of course, we can handle it,” jumped in Mira, even as Dhruv
searched for words that would reassure Ranbir and Ajay Dewan.

Ranbir raised an eyebrow at her. “Your confidence, Mira, is
truly astounding.”

“Come on,
beta
, look at how well she handled Tarun’s
dinner. I’m sure she’ll whip up some similar magic for our corporate guests.”

“Okay then,” said Ranbir. “Tell us what you’ve planned so
far. Has Jasmine given you our requirements?” As they sat and discussed the
plans for the dinner, Mira felt the tension of the last few days ease away.
This was going to such an exciting job, she could feel it in her bones.

Mira and Dhruv were in a complete spin for the next couple
of days. They spent every free minute trying out dishes from the shortlist they
had created, working late into the night. Every time they both approved of a
particular dish, they took a sample to Ajay Chacha, who had promised to be
their guinea pig-in-chief, as he called it, while Ranbir was traveling. So far,
he had only made their task more difficult because he insisted every new
experiment had to feature on the menu.

“Ajay Chacha!” Mira exclaimed finally, when he declared her
paneer
koftas
to be just like his Nani used to make and there was no way he was
going to let his guests miss out on sampling them. “This won’t do! We have to
cut down. We cannot make so many dishes for so many people in one night.”

“But
beta
,” he remonstrated with her, “each of these
dishes is
laajawab
. How can you expect me to choose one over the other?”

Dhruv sighed beside her. “Sir, with all due deference, your
guests cannot eat so much in one meal.”

Mira jumped up in her chair, “Tell you what, Chacha, we’ll
decide the final menu from among all these. Two vegetable dishes, two kinds of
dal
,
two kinds of salad, three kinds of chutney, two kinds of
raita, matar pulao…
Now tell me, would you prefer
tandoori rotis
or
paratha
s?”

“
Parathas
!” exclaimed Chacha. “But do include these
delicious
koftas
, my dear. And what about dessert?”

“Indian or…?” asked Dhruv.

“Oh definitely Indian. No eggs at all.”

Dhruv looked at Mira. “
Rabri
?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “Whipped cream. Resting on
rabri.
And
badam-kesar
milk for those who don’t want it cold. In
kulhars
.”

Chacha’s face brightened. “Amazing!” he said approvingly. “I
can’t wait!”

Dhruv’s face looked troubled. “Will Ranbir approve of
kulhars
at such a formal dinner party?” he asked worriedly.

“Don’t worry about Ranbir,” said Chacha magnanimously. “I’ll
take care of him.”

***

Work began in earnest on the Thursday after that. Dhruv’s
friends, Anil and Vineet, came in and were soon busily involved in the
preparations with them. Mira was hardly home in the two days leading up to the
dinner on Saturday. She didn’t know where the time went in cutting and chopping
and grinding and stirring. One thing she was thankful for, the black cloud that
had settled on her since the day of the party had dissipated. Ranbir’s absence
had a large role to play in that, she decided.

All too soon, the dinner was almost over. So many days of
back-breaking work and now it was all done. Mira could hardly believe it. She
was exhausted, but happy. It had gone off so well. Every time Dhruv had gone to
the banquet hall to oversee the serving of the dishes, he had returned grinning
from ear to ear to relate the fulsome compliments he had received. Only a bit
more to go, she thought, then peace!

The hired waiters came in to pick up the whipped cream and
rabri
confection she had slaved over. They would return later for the hot flavored
milk. Mira picked up a large tray to keep it ready when they came for them. She
picked up a few of the little clay pots and frowned. They were stone cold. She
had wanted them placed in warm water so that the milk, when it was poured into
them, would not lose heat too rapidly. What was the point of serving lukewarm
badam-kesar
milk? She winced, thinking of Ranbir’s reaction to such a fiasco.

“Anil!” she called. Anil was at the far end of the kitchen
near the stove. “Will you heat up some water? These
kulhars
are too
cold.” She turned to put the offending
kulhars
into a large basin so
that the hot water, when it was ready, could be poured over them. The next
thing she knew, the world had gone ‘boom!’, swept away by a huge explosion.
Flames and smoke engulfed the kitchen. Mira was thrown aside and felt her head
hit the wall before blackness took over.

When she came to a few minutes later, the kitchen was full
of smoke and people. Some light had been made available, so she could see Anil
being put on a stretcher and carried outside. Then hands were lifting her up
also on to a stretcher. She heard her own voice protest feebly, “I can walk…”,
then a soothing voice in reply, “We can’t take chances, just lie back.” She
closed her eyes, thankful for the relief the darkness offered.

Downstairs at the party, the speeches were on. Up at the
main table, Ranbir had just finished dinner, when he heard the shouting
outside. He caught Ajay Chacha’s eye and Chacha indicated he should go and
check. Ranbir made his apologies and went out softly. He reached the lobby just
in time to see Mira being carried out on the stretcher. His breath caught in
his throat. Good lord! That was Mira! Was she hurt? How? If anything happened
to Mira…his face turned white at the thought. Was that an ambulance they were
putting her into? He just about managed to read the name of the hospital on the
side of the ambulance before it sped away into the dark. Ranbir felt a wave of
panic engulf him. He ran to the white Porsche parked just outside and shouted
to the driver to give him the keys. Then he drove off after the ambulance,
tyres screeching as he hurtled out of the gate.

When he reached the hospital, he found Dhruv in the lobby.
Dhruv had traveled with Anil and Mira in the ambulance. Ranbir shook him
urgently. “What’s happened to Mira? Is she hurt? Why was she in the ambulance?”

Dhruv shook his head. “Ranbir, we don’t know yet how they
are. All I know is that there was an explosion in the kitchen and both Mira and
Anil were hurt. The doctors are examining them. They’ll let us know.”

“Which doctor have they been assigned to?” demanded Ranbir.

“I think a Dr. Kapoor,” said Dhruv, but Ranbir had already
marched off before he could finish speaking.

Mira opened her eyes to find a nurse in a pink uniform
looking at her. “Ah, you are conscious at last! I’ll call the doctor.” She went
out of the room, closing the door behind her.

The doctor came in and examined her. “You’re a lucky young
woman,” he said when he had finished his examination. “You’ve got away with
just a few bruises. That arm and your head will be a little sore for a few
days, but there’s no lasting damage. We’ll discharge you in a bit.”

Mira smiled faintly at him, then said, “May I have some
water please?” The nurse held her propped up while she sipped some water from a
plastic cup. Mira heaved a sigh of satisfaction when the water was all gone.
Her throat had been rasping with all the smoke she had inhaled and the cool
water felt so good. Then she remembered. “What about Anil?” she asked the
nurse.

“Who Anil? The boy who was with you? He wasn’t as lucky as
you. He has some serious burns on his arms and the left of his face.” Mira’s
face convulsed in sympathy.

“Your sister and mother are outside, waiting to take you
home. I am going to send them in now.”

Ma and Reema came in soon after. “Di, how are you?” asked
Reema, striving to hold back her tears. Ma was quiet, but her strained face
spoke of the stress she had been through.

She patted Mira’s head and murmured, “Thank God for his
blessed mercy! I could not have borne another loss.”

Slowly, Mira put together the story. One of the gas
cylinders they had been using had run out and Anil had attached a fresh
cylinder to the stove, but he had not checked the cylinder properly or he would
have known that it was leaking gas. When he lit the match to heat the water,
the cylinder had exploded. “It has to be God’s grace that you were not near the
stove, my darling,” said her mother gravely. “When you get home, I am going to
organize a
havan
in thanksgiving.”

“How did you know?” Mira asked.

“Ranbirji called me and sent a car,” said Ma. “And Reema
came with his cousin.” Mira looked up at Reema, a question in her eyes.

Reema shook her head at her and said, “Di, let’s go home
now.”

Mira got up slowly from the bed. They were walking down the
corridor when Reema exclaimed, “Ma, we forgot the medicines!”

Ma pressed her hand against her mouth, “
Hai
Ram! You
take Mira to the car and wait. I’ll just go and get them.”

“I need to sit down first for a moment,” said Mira. Her head
was splitting.

“I’ll get you some water?” asked Reema and she nodded.

She was still in a daze when she saw a familiar figure in
the lobby across from the corridor where she was. It was Ranbir, talking to a
doctor. “Send all the bills to me,” he was telling the doctor. “I want the boy
to get the best possible care and attention, no expense spared. So please, just
go ahead and do whatever you need to.” The doctor murmured something. She heard
Ranbir’s voice again, “And what about the girl?” Again there was the sound of
the doctor’s voice and she saw Ranbir’s face light up with relief. It puzzled
her in some way, but her head was too heavy for her to make sense of it.