A Perfect Mismatch (6 page)

When he re-emerged after ten minutes she was already tidying away the clothes that were strewn around.

“You don’t need to do all this. I can take care of my things,” he said curtly, slipping on a black and silver silk tie over a fine night blue shirt. He looked devastating in his dark suit and she wondered if he ever looked out of place in anything he wore.

“I was only trying to clear up quickly,” she said, just as stiffly.

“Well, you don’t have to. This is a temporary arrangement and you should not be taking it too seriously. Don’t get used to being the dutiful daughter-in-law either! Oh, and you can start packing after a day or two. We are shifting to
my apartment by the weekend after I have had a chance to convince mom on the subject.”

Oh, the arrogance! She fumed in useless anger, sitting rigidly on the plush sofa, waiting for him to finish with his tie, which seemed to be taking longer than she expected.

“I know what I need to do. However, if you want my cooperation in this drama, then you should pay attention to the formalities. Mom has been asking pretty uncomfortable questions since the wedding, wondering why you haven’t been home like all obedient, newlywed, bridegrooms besotted with their brand new wives.” Zara threw at him with a cold smile.

“I have done what she asked me to. Besides, if we have to get a legal separation we must prove that we are incompatible in every way. She also needs to understand that I am not going to babysit my wife all day. I have enough work to keep me busy.” Armaan twirled his tie in exasperation as the knot tangled unmanageably. “Don’t get involved in unnecessary discussions with Mom. I don’t want to warn you again on that.”

Irritation gave way to fury when Zara heard those haughty words. She rose gracefully and stood in front of him. “Allow me,” she purred softly taking the tangled knot in her hands. He was so close that she could see the brown orbs of his eyes that quickly masked his surprise.

Slowly, unable to resist the urge, Zara slid up the knot inexorably tightening the silk noose around his neck without blinking. “Up or down?” she asked softly, slowly becoming aware of the incredible masculine scent of him mingled with some exotic musk aftershave.

His eyes gleamed with challenge, letting her tighten the knot further, until he felt her hands settle unsteadily under his chin. Then he said in a growl that sent goose bumps skittering across her skin. “Whatever you have in mind, I am game, if you are.”

With that loaded statement he lifted his hand and clasped a fistful of her long lustrous mane, splaying the silken strands between his fingers gently as if they were insubstantial as dandelions. Mesmerized by her closeness, unable to resist the temptation, he placed his hand on the bare skin of her waist ever so gently.

Zara stood transfixed by the molten gaze. A reluctant admiration gleamed in her eyes at the way he had turned the tables on her by deliberately misconstruing her words. Her eager body burst to life. She would die if he knew how his hand was wreaking havoc on her senses. With a smile that was a masterpiece, seemingly unaffected by the impact of his sensuality, Zara stood her ground and released his tie. Still smiling, she undid the knot with precise dexterous fingers and fit it neatly into his collar. She tried not to notice how broad and solid his chest was beneath her nimble fingers and how warm his skin felt.

“It’s done,” Zara said unable to keep the husky tremor from her voice though she managed to remain smiling.

Armaan did not release her. Instead, he stepped in closer. His senses reeled with the impact of her feminine scent. Her lips looked inviting enough for him to be tempted to … An insane hunger to taste them clenched him by the guts. If he put out his arms she would be within the circle of his embrace. His blood began to thrum with the desire
to do exactly that and more. He extinguished the thought. immediately. It was one thing to threaten to seduce her to win the situation. And it was another thing altogether to fall into the honey trap that she represented.

He released her gently, still looking into her flushed face. “You sure know how to tie a man in knots.”

For a moment, she thought he was actually paying her a compliment! But he continued huskily, “But you need practice. The tie is perfectly done though. Thank you.” Armaan brushed the knuckles of his hand on her cheek. The look of challenge was mutual, he noted with satisfaction and stepped back from her to turn away. He wore his jacket with a flourish and ran a hand through his hair.

Zara realized she was trembling from head to toe after that close encounter though she was loath to reveal her true feelings.

“Shall we go then?” Armaan asked mockingly, offering her his arm.

“Of course,” said Zara, through teeth gritted tight and sailed ahead of him ignoring his proffered arm.

Life settled into a rhythm once the excitement of the wedding seeped away from the household. Zara adjusted quickly to the routine of being Armaan’s invisible wife and Vini’s loving daughter-in-law, quite efficiently. To her relief Aparna was civil though stiffly formal. The children were most easy to get along with. Absolutely impish, the two of them became a comfort to her.

Zara was also surprised to note that Armaan was very fond of them. His unabashed affection for the little ones was in complete contrast with his usual callous attitude.
Sometimes she would covertly watch him playing football in the garden or gamboling on the grass to the utter delight of the children who tumbled over him in abandon.

Zara began to love the comfort of having a family although they had not been a part of her life a few weeks ago. Work was still a sanctuary for her as Zara resumed going to office as soon as her leave was over.

Armaan broached the subject with Vini about moving out to his apartment rather tentatively. Vini was aghast, promptly giving a stringent lecture to her ‘heartless’ son on the joys of living with a large family. He could only seethe, waiting until Vini was in a better frame of health. After all it had been only a few weeks since her near fatal illness.

Armaan decided to bide his time. The setback was swallowed stoically by Zara who was beginning to feel a conflicting range of emotions concerning the issue. She was beginning to love being a part of a family too much.

She returned home with a splitting headache one evening and walked straight to her room after excusing herself from the dinner table. She saw Armaan look up from his meal. Vini was concerned and sent up some hot soup and medication. Zara was touched, realizing with a pang, that it had been a very long time since someone had cared for her.

After a bath, she swallowed the painkiller and settled down with her laptop on the couch. Within minutes her head dipped and she dozed with her laptop still on.

When Armaan entered the room, he stopped short at the sight of Zara sleeping on the sofa. He tried to ignore
her as usual. It was impossible! Well almost, he decided firmly. She was the last person he needed to befriend. He showered and changed before slipping into bed.

He was about to switch off the light when he saw Zara turn on the sofa, her position now precarious. If she turns once more, she might slip off. Well, good for her! That would teach her not to mess with him, he thought grumpily. He had not forgotten the challenge in her eyes when she had tightened the tie around his neck like a noose. It had enraged him, challenged him to strike back … aroused him enough to crush her beneath him and make love … He shook his head at the thoughts that were leading him in the direction he had been trying to avoid. Every time their eyes met, every time Zara was in the same room she was able to arouse such paradoxical emotions in him that he had to question the feasibility of this marriage.

She slept so peacefully that he could not resist the urge to study her more closely. It was only curiosity, he told himself, as he padded softly to stand in front of her. He noted the idle way her silken hair drifted about her face. The silk baby blue pajamas were ludicrously loose, floating about her with sleeves that were longer than her arms. She seemed to have a wardrobe full of clothes larger than her size.

Shutting the laptop he began to turn away, when she moved and would have fallen off the couch if he hadn’t lunged forward to hold her. She curled up into a ball and shivered, cuddling into the sofa with his arm still under her.

This was a stupid idea, Armaan thought with a scowl.
“Zara!” He tried to shake her awake but she was sound asleep, though she seemed to be digging into the sofa. He touched her forehead and realized that she was running a mild fever.

“Zara!” he called more firmly but to no avail. She must be cold, he thought, suddenly concerned at the way she trembled. He removed his arm gently from under her and switched off the AC. When he returned, she was still sleeping soundly. There was no other way but to pick her up and lay her on the bed.

Armaan hesitated and then picked her up in his arms. She was incredibly soft! Her hair trailed around them and her arm fell away. For moments, he stood rooted with her in his arms without a clue as to what had hit him. Gritting his teeth at his own folly, he walked with her cushioned against his chest and laid her on the bed. She was still fast asleep, hardly moving, when he covered her with the sheet. With a little sigh, her lips parted. Armaan was mesmerized. He leaned over her with his elbows on either side of her shoulders. She looked so … sweet when she slept. Gone was the steely look. Nor was there any anger that could mar those symmetrical features in disharmony.

Her lips were full and inviting and he felt the pull. Tentatively he raised a finger to her bottom lip and traced a moist line on its plump softness. He bent slowly, his eyes only on her parted lips, giving in to heady temptation at last. He was only a hungry breath away from her mouth when Zara stirred. He drew back immediately, furious with himself. What was wrong with him?

Zara felt a warm weight on her thigh and hip. Her
throat was parched and she opened her eyes to see Armaan leaning over her with a startling look. His face was drawn into a harsh mask of disapproval. She struggled up into a sitting position.

“You …” she said in a sleepy voice.

“Do you make it a habit to sleep anywhere that takes your fancy? You almost fell off the sofa and I had to carry you here.”

“How kind …” she croaked, in a dry whisper, wishing she could sound stern.

“Are you unwell? You have a fever.”

“Yeah … well … actually I have a headache.”

“You should take some medication, before you spread it to others!”

“It is just a headache and not some incurable, contagious disease!”

Armaan handed her an analgesic for the fever with a glass of water which she took from his hand as if he were offering her hemlock. She drank the water thirstily and turned away pummeling the pillows with her fists before sinking into them. The lights were switched off. In the darkness, she heard the rustling of the bedcovers and then silence prevailed. Zara felt herself tremble when she felt his broad back against hers. Why was he sleeping so close? She realized it was her fault as she was sleeping right in the middle of the bed. She shivered again at the thought of being in his arms. Oh why hadn’t she been awake! It was mortifying to be in need of any help from him.

On second thoughts, she would have probably yelled at him if she had woken up while she was being carried.
She sighed, acutely aware of his solid back against hers. It was comfortingly toasty near him. She was chilled in spite of the hot weather and decided not to move away as that would only make it conspicuous. He did not seem too bothered by her closeness. Perhaps he was asleep already. She fell asleep strangely contented.

Unable to move away, Armaan suffered a sudden, burning desire to turn around and take her into his arms. The thought of how she had curled into his arms when he had held her remained etched on his mind. He had almost kissed her! What madness had gripped him? He had forgotten everything that that had brought them together. The complications would be disastrous. Zara shifted closer as if trying to warm herself. God! He was craving to turn and wrap her in his arms … just this once! But he remained stubbornly still, grimly determined not to let the soft body pressed into his back cause anymore damage to his resolution. He waited until the desire passed and finally closed his eyes.

Everything went into a tailspin a week later when Vini dropped the bombshell after dinner while everyone was relaxing with dessert. With the serene air of someone who had just visited a shrine, she said to Armaan, “Since you seemed to have forgotten to take your wife for a honeymoon, I took the liberty of booking the tickets for a week in Goa. I can make arrangements for tickets to Switzerland or Indonesia as well. You can choose any destination you like. You know how difficult it is to get five-star service so Mr. Suri is doing the needful. He was
very happy to oblige since we have been doing very good business at their boutique at the hotel.”

Armaan was furious. “You can cancel! Mom, you should have asked me first!”

“Why? So you can refuse? Don’t you think you should take some time off? I am sure Zara needs a break!”

“NO!” Both Armaan and Zara said in unison. Well at least they agreed on something, thought Zara with a dreadful feeling.

“Mom I just took a week off for the wedding!” Zara was ready to beg on her knees if she had to. She was clutching at straws here. A week alone with Armaan would probably see her grow horns and talons! Of course, she could take another week off. But she couldn’t admit that.

“Nonsense! You are hardly spending time with each other. It is final. You are going for the honeymoon this weekend.”

The children grew excited. “Can we go too?” they chorused together.

“No! Only married people go for a honeymoon! Children go to school!” Aparna said sternly, “Happy honeymoon bro!” With a wide grin she whispered into his ear conspiratorially, “Don’t forget to wear your armour. It shields from sharp objects!”

Even amidst the chatter of children and elaborate explanations given by their grandmother, Zara heard the comment and felt a little hurt. She rose from the table mustering up her usual cloak of dignified resilience and excused herself.