His Captive Indian Princess. Tanu Jain
underlined the futility of emotions and relationships. Life in boarding school had further hardened him and made him contemptuous of human frailties and weaknesses. Wary and guarded, he found it difficult to warm to people, let alone trust them, and no one was permitted to cross the iron-clad barriers he had set up.
He knew that most people found him cold and intimidating and kept a safe distance. Even his employees, who had no complaints about him as an employer and were a dedicated lot, dared not cross him.
Madhav, with his infectious grin and generosity of spirit, had been the only one who had breached his defences and forged a deep bond with him. Raw ache inundated him as he thought of his friend. He would never get used to Madhav’s loss. Cold determination filled him. And never again would he let himself be vulnerable or dependent on anyone.
Therefore, it was all the more disquieting to realise the strange powerful pull that Gauri exerted over him. She tugged at his emotions—emotions he knew he was incapable of feeling. Was it because she was Madhav’s younger sister? But he had never felt the same way about Madhav’s other sister, Maya.
It was probably sexual attraction, he thought morosely, more so since it had been a long time since he had slept with a woman. Once this business with her was settled he would look for a girlfriend.
His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of Gauri in the red and cream churidaar kameez he had selected.
Immediately his body hardened as he saw how the kameez clung lovingly to her body and the churidaar revealed her long shapely legs and thighs. She looked sensational and he was suddenly angry with himself. He would have to guard against falling under the spell of her attraction.
He stood up with a brusque, ‘Finally!’
He walked out of the room. Gauri followed behind, trying to get a bearing on her surroundings as well as form a coherent plan, but she received a shock when she saw that the palace had changed drastically. This part of the palace had been her brother’s wing and it had been given a total facelift. The old stone floor had been replaced by rich marble flooring and was overlaid with thick carpets and elegant rugs.
Vikram’s imperious, ‘Come on—I don’t have time to stand here gawking all day,’ brought her attention crashing back.
She didn’t know why he had tracked her down and virtually kidnapped her and brought her here, but she knew he would reveal his motives only when he chose to. He was very stubborn and pigheaded.
She had no alternative but to do as he dictated. There was no use fighting him right now. She would have to bide her time. She followed in Vikram’s wake with leaden steps.
As she left the western part of the palace and entered the spacious entrance hall she was further astounded at the changes that had taken place. It had been turned into a hotel lobby and it was bustling with activity. At one end a long reception counter was being manned by smartly dressed receptionists while a couple of bell boys scurried about with luggage trolleys.
She turned in shock to Vikram and said, ‘What’s this? The Mahal has been turned into a hotel!’
‘Yes,’ Vikram answered briefly.
‘Where does the family live, then?’ Gauri asked.
‘The family lives in the southern wing of the palace,’ Vikram said guardedly.
‘But the southern wing was part of the queen’s chambers. Why did Baba shift?’ Gauri asked mystified.
‘So curious and yet for the last six years you haven’t bothered even once to find out what happened to your family?’ Vikram asked, cold fury lacing his voice.
Gauri flinched and lowered her eyes, unable to deny the truth in his accusations and unwilling to offer any explanation of why she had acted the way she had.
Thereafter, she trailed silently after Vikram as he led her outside into the bright sunshine. They walked down the steps to a waiting car and Vikram opened the passenger door and gestured impatiently for Gauri to get in.
Giving him a nervous glance, she got in, holding her breath when she was forced to brush past him since he was standing close to the door. Her body seemed to have acquired an unsettling awareness around Vikram.
When they were younger, she and Vikram had viewed each other with mutual distrust and the vibes between them had always been cold. The opposite of her warm and open older brother, Vikram had always been distant and reserved with everyone except Madhav. She had known that he viewed her with irritation and tolerated her merely because she was the sister of his best friend.
That had changed when she’d reached puberty. She had suddenly become aware of Vikram’s devastating appeal and her hormones would go into overdrive if Vikram so much as even entered the room she was in. She was not alone in feeling the effects of Vikram’s rampant masculinity. His dark, handsome looks and the power he effortlessly exuded attracted girls like moths to a flame. Maya’s friends would flirt shamelessly with Vikram whenever the opportunity arose and, though he was disdainful and cold, they didn’t give up.
Courtesy of Maya, Gauri heard snippets about his mother’s death and a traumatic childhood. Her girlish teenage fantasies had turned him into a brooding romantic figure, and her heart would knock at her ribs when he looked out at her with those unfathomable eyes. She had spent many disturbed nights dreaming of him holding her and kissing her. For a short while, around her sixteenth birthday, he had changed, softened his usual abrasiveness and even smiled at her a couple of times. He had further astounded her by giving her a beautiful charm bracelet on her birthday.
But then the business with Maya had blown up and he had reverted to his cold, scathing self and had looked at her with withering contempt. Thank God, she had hidden her attraction well, never revealing to anyone the disturbing effect Vikram had on her senses.
This time around also she vowed to exercise all her restraint and not let the betraying awareness take over her senses.
The car glided along the winding driveway and entered the massive iron gates which led to the southern part of the palace. They stopped in front of a familiar stone building which Gauri recognised very well. She wanted to get out and flee but felt welded to the seat, unable to move.
She didn’t want to go inside. She had fled this place ignominiously six years ago and she had thought she would never return here again. Her childhood had been spent here and she still had memories of cavorting around happily at the Mahal, but later events had made sure that she would always view this place with fear and despair.
Suddenly her door opened and a grim-faced Vikram held out his hand insistently. When she wouldn’t comply he bent and took hold of her hand and easily pulled her out.
Unwilling to make a spectacle of herself, Gauri stood up and hissed, ‘Let go of my hand. I’m not running away anywhere.’
Vikram dropped her hand and went inside. Gauri looked around, trying to gather her composure. Thankfully, there was no one around. Slowly, she followed Vikram.
‘Does Baba know that I’m coming?’ Gauri blurted out hesitantly.
‘Why don’t you satisfy your curiosity by asking Maharaj directly? We are going to meet him now,’ Vikram said with perverse pleasure.
Gauri felt her legs almost give way. She couldn’t bear to face her father and see accusation and disapproval on his face or, even worse, face his silent disappointment.
‘I cannot meet Baba like this. I need some time,’ she murmured piteously.
‘Haven’t six years been enough? You have had six years in which to prepare yourself and if you couldn’t do it in that time what hope do you have of doing it in a few minutes?’ Vikram said caustically, grim satisfaction filling him when he saw how she paled and trembled.
Panic engulfed Gauri and she blurted, ‘You cannot force me to see him.’
She looked around, desperate for a way out of the coming ordeal. But Vikram held