His Monsoon Bride

They sat in a silence so heavy that they were glad when the waiter brought in some wine. Amrita took a sip and said, ‘How come you aren’t being all cocky today? You are not married yet. Why are you already mellowing down?’

Mehtab threw back his head and laughed. ‘You got me there. I was just playing nice in front of your father. But if you want me to be the arrogant guy I am rumoured to be, I can do that.’

‘Why are you so insufferable, Mehtab? Did a woman break your heart so badly that you can’t trust anyone now, or are you a murderer and just trying to hide your secret behind that steely exterior?’ She smiled.

But she saw him grow tense.

‘No, a woman has never broken my heart. And nobody ever can.’

Mehtab looked up at her and saw her staring back at him intently. Her hair was falling over her forehead and her earrings sparkled just like her eyes. This girl was beautiful, and it was sad she didn’t even know it.

‘No, I am sure no one will. You look too untouchable. So I should be the one afraid of getting my heart splattered all over the floor. Right?’

‘I know it’s not exactly an ideal situation. But we are smart people. We can be civil about this. Can’t we?’ he said and then smiled. ‘Let’s start by not being so formal. After all, I have already kissed you! Okay, okay, I won’t be arrogant. But I have to tell you that was the best kiss of my life.’

Amrita blushed. ‘And no doubt you have had many to compare it to, Mr Rathod?’

‘Not many. A few, maybe. Maybe a few too many.’ He laughed. ‘But, Amrita, finding a woman who really gets you is hard in this world. I have seen my friends get their hearts broken, so I decided I would never let that happen to me. Since then I have just dated women but never got serious. There are many other things more important than relationships. And the women of Mumbai? Phew.’

‘What about the women of Mumbai?’

‘They are just a little full of themselves. So empty-headed and so alike. Why do they all look alike?’

‘I know what you mean. That’s why I have never fitted in. Look at me, all curvy. I feel like a cow in the middle of all those poodles. And don’t even get me started about them being empty-headed. Maybe we are being too judgmental. But I just want to yell at them, Please, get your heads out of the fashion magazines for a minute. There is a big world out there!’

Mehtab laughed. ‘Amrita, from the moment you stepped out of that elevator I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you. In a world where size zero is a norm now, I was shocked to see a woman who still looked like a woman. You are beautiful, surely you know that,’ he said, and then felt as if he should tone it down. He didn’t want Amrita to get the wrong message. He didn’t want any emotional entanglement at all. ‘What I mean is, compared to them, you look great. Don’t be silly and worry about all this meaningless stuff.’

Amrita knew what he was saying was right—though why he was saying it was a mystery to her. Anyway, compliments or not, she might have agreed to marry him and be his wife, but she wasn’t going to swoon all over him. ‘Thank you,’ she said calmly. ‘That could be the best compliment I have ever received. But can we now talk a little about when this engagement will take place?’

Mehtab sensed her businesslike demeanor and thought, She is smarter than me. Instead of praising her, I should be the one talking all business. I can’t have her trump me every time. He sat down next to her and said, ‘Yes. What I think is that we shouldn’t wait. What’s the use? We could get engaged the day after tomorrow and get married the day after that. Don’t worry, I will handle it all. You just get ready and show up. Will that be okay, Miss Piramal, or should I say Mrs Rathod?’

Amrita felt an anxiety attack coming on. She knew he was right. The sooner, the better. Her father needed him to woo investors in as soon as possible. But was she ready to get married so soon? Before she could answer, her father walked in.

‘That makes a lot of sense, Mehtab. There is a board meeting five days from now and if you kids are married by then, it will make things so much easier. Amrita, can we do this?’ he asked her sheepishly, aware that he had stepped over the line once again.

Amrita felt her heart sink. Married in three days? She needed time to get to know her fiancé. But what was the use in delaying? Could she say no if she didn’t like what she saw? She sighed. ‘Yes, it can be done.’

Mehtab just nodded. ‘Thank you.’

She didn’t understand him. He could show more enthusiasm. He was really making it feel like a business transaction. But then, that was what it was. She still couldn’t believe she was getting married, though. Was this for real?

She realised it was all too real and the ruthless Mehtab was the one she had to bear for a lifetime now when she heard him say, ‘So where is that kheer you promised me? Or were you just lying about knowing how to cook?’

Oh, what had she done?

CHAPTER THREE

IT WAS the day of her engagement, Amrita thought with a sudden sense of alarm as she sat up in her bed after a long night of no sleep. She had had weird dreams all night—that was if you could call them dreams. Nightmares, more like. All she could remember now was that Mehtab was in all of them, and he was flashing his naughty grin, and she knew this marriage was a big mistake. He just wanted a wife to make him pass as a respectable, serious businessman, someone who would help him rope in investors and charm the society. She wanted to hate her father for putting her in this position, but she knew he was in dire trouble to even suggest it.

Just yesterday, investors had knocked on their door and threatened to force an auction of their home if her father didn’t pay up soon—and she had heard her father yell, ‘Couldn’t you people just wait till I reached the office? Now that my company is floundering, do I not deserve any kind of respect?’ She knew then that this marriage was inevitable.

Blinded by his immense sorrow over his financial collapse, her father saw no wrong in her getting married to Mehtab—a man who, though she had an inexplicable lust for him, made her feel uncomfortable and very wary.

She got out of bed and saw that Meera had left her a note about setting up an appointment with the beauty parlour at the Taj hotel for her to get hair and make-up done. She had left for Pune to pick up her saree, which had been ordered specially from a young designer whose work Amrita admired. Under normal circumstances Amrita would have been thrilled at the prospect of a morning’s pampering, but there was nothing normal about her impending engagement.

Did she really want to live life with a man who thought of her as maybe the perfect wife, but didn’t even entertain the concept of, dared she say it, love? Did Mehtab even believe in love? Or did he think of it as an unnecessary emotion that only complicated things? She knew he really didn’t care if she loved him as long as she did all that a dutiful wife was supposed to do. He wanted her to be an able spouse when it came to being a power couple—being charming to the right people, saying the right things and creating the right kind of aura about them. She knew how to do that. She had been an heiress all her life—all this came naturally to her. She connected with people and put them at ease, and, though she exuded the charm that came with old money, she was also humble and gracious to the point that one could never be uncomfortable with her. She knew Mehtab saw all this, and that was why he had chosen her to be the one.

On her way to the Taj Amrita just kept saying the same thing over in her head. She was getting engaged, it was the smartest decision she could make, considering the circumstances.

The hairstylist remarked, ‘You are looking gorgeous, Amrita. Obviously anyone getting married to such a handsome man will have a glow.’

Amrita flushed. Mehtab was undoubtedly very handsome. With his tailored suits and perfectly coiffed hair, there was an Indian princely quality to him. She also noticed the way he always left that slight shadow of stubble on his jaw—maybe he knew it drove women mad? He would; he was smart that way.

She knew that he might never love her. But then, did she really expect love any more after her last relationship? She had loved Akshaye with all her heart, and had really thought that she would do anything for him—but he had upped and left her in an instant, just because she had refused to sleep with him. Maybe he was just waiting for an excuse to leave her—in this fast-paced world she lived in, was there actually any time for love? Would he have stayed if she had given in?

Maybe an arranged marriage was a practical plan—they could lead absolutely different lives, and, though it was far from being ideal, at least she could do what she wanted without the hassle of a partner who poked and prodded into her life. She would throw herself into work and not hope for a love life—things would be much more uncomplicated that way. It was perfect, really—that was if you let the romantic in you die a quick death, she thought wryly.

She looked at the finished result in the mirror and it was like a stranger staring back at her. Her hair was immaculately styled and the blusher highlighted her delicate cheekbones, but it was all a mask. The gentlest of knocks would shatter this porcelain façade. But she had made her choice. This was the mask she was going to have to wear for the rest of her life.

A few hours later, Meera pecked and cooed as she draped the saree around Amrita. ‘This is why a saree is so perfect for the Indian woman. It just shows the right amount of skin and makes all the curves look perfect. My darling Amrita, you look like a goddess—like goddess Sita herself. So beautiful. Mehtab is going to swoon tonight.’

Amrita liked how soft the chiffon felt against her skin. They had decided on chiffon for the engagement party because it was just the right amount of dressy and she really did look as if she were from a different time in the pale pink saree, and some of her mother’s kundan jewellery that they just didn’t make any more. She had an intricate challa neatly tucked in at her waist that made the look seem so much more royal. She might look like a princess, but she knew there was nothing fairy tale about this wedding, it was all business. But there was no harm looking the part she was being forced to play now.