Twelve Hours of Temptation (5 page)

‘And you borrow them from her?’

‘Sometimes,’ Melissa said and laughed. ‘No, actually I borrow them often—I’m just trying to pretend that I’m the highbrow type. I used to laugh at the plots at first, but they’re actually quite addictive.’

‘Right...’ Samir said.

His phone pinged and he took it out of his pocket to look at the display.

‘Sorry, I need to make some calls. I’ll see you later—will you be able to get back to the hotel by yourself?’

A little startled by the abrupt brush-off, Melissa retorted, ‘I’ll try. I’m sure I can manage to find it.’

He didn’t reply, still staring at his phone, and, feeling annoyed and just a little hurt, she marched off towards the hotel.

* * *

‘It’s one long jamboree,’ Devdeep said. ‘They’ll announce the actual awards tomorrow.’

They were at the pre-awards cocktail party, and Melissa had been stuck with Devdeep and another colleague at one end of the room while Samir stood talking to a group from another agency at the other end. Luckily the event was in the same hotel they were booked into—at a pinch she could always develop a killing headache and escape to her room.

Melissa involuntarily looked across at Samir. He looked bored, as if he found the drinking and the locker room jokes tedious and a little immature.

Devdeep followed the direction of her eyes. ‘Bit arrogant, isn’t he?’ he said, evidently expecting Melissa to agree with him. ‘Doesn’t make the slightest effort to mingle—probably thinks he’s way too important to hang with small fry like us.’

‘He might just be shy,’ she suggested, realising how completely stupid she sounded as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Samir was to shy what Godzilla was to a garden lizard.

‘You drove down with him, didn’t you? Did you find out anything—his plans for the agency, that kind of stuff? Now that Brian’s gone we can really catapult this agency into the big league, as long as Samir is willing to invest in it.’ At her blank look, Devdeep’s eyebrows flew up. ‘You didn’t ask him a thing? God, I wish I’d known he was driving you here; I’d have briefed you properly. What
did
you talk about, then?’

Bougainvillaea
, she felt like saying.
And whether Kolhapuri
chappals
were invented in Kolhapur.

‘We...um...didn’t talk much,’ she said instead. ‘He was concentrating on the road.’

Shivani, the other colleague with them, intervened. ‘Devdeep, you’re such a nerd,’ she said. ‘The guy’s super-hot—I’m sure Melissa had better things to talk to him about than your stupid plans for world domination.’

At that point Samir looked across and caught Melissa’s eye. Immediately, she felt her face grow warm, though she knew he couldn’t have heard a word of their conversation.

‘You’re blushing,’ Shivani said with satisfaction. ‘Which means I’m right.’

‘Nonsense,’ Melissa retorted, but by now her ears were burning with embarrassment. ‘Besides, he’s way out of my league.’

‘Yes, of course,’ Devdeep said, evidently under the impression that he was rescuing Melissa from an uncomfortable conversation. ‘Look at him—he’s rich and good-looking. He could date anyone he wants!’

‘Thanks, Devdeep,’ she said drily.

He looked a little taken aback. ‘I didn’t mean...’

‘No, of course you didn’t.’ She sighed.

Devdeep was right—no one sane would imagine that Samir was the slightest bit interested in her. And with all the dumb things she’d said about romantic novels he would probably avoid her as if she was the latest variant in bird flu.

Getting up, she said, ‘I think I’ll take a stroll outside. I need some fresh air—this place stinks of cigarette smoke.’

Once outside, she hesitated a little before going up to the reception desk. It was too early to go back to her room, but she didn’t fancy hanging around in the lobby all alone—maybe there was a library or somewhere she could hang out until it was time for dinner.

When Samir came out of the bar a few minutes later she was deep in conversation with the concierge, discussing the relative merits of a game of billiards and a visit to the hotel’s overpriced gift shop.

Samir stood watching her silently for a few minutes. Utterly unconscious of his presence, she made a charming picture as she politely scanned the list of guided tours that the concierge was thrusting on her. She was wearing a rather demure long-sleeved black dress, but her hair tumbled down her back in loose curls. The only make-up she had on was lip gloss and kohl around her eyes. The kohl emphasised the doe-like beauty of her brown eyes, and her mouth was pink and lush.

For a few seconds Samir imagined pressing his own lips onto hers. Then he came to his senses with a jerk. He’d followed her out to apologise for his earlier brusqueness at the beach, and he’d intended to say his piece and go back to the party. Standing by and gazing at her like a lust-ridden college kid was so far off the agenda it wasn’t funny.

Melissa turned just then and caught sight of him, a lovely smile breaking out across her face. At the same moment, Samir noticed that the deceptively demure dress had a plunging neckline, and his already racing pulse-rate responded excitedly.

‘I’ve been driving these people crazy,’ she remarked
sotto voce
as she came up to him. ‘They can’t deal with anyone who doesn’t want to go to the spa or go sightseeing.’

Samir was about to reply when he realised that Melissa had gone very still, staring at a man who had just entered the lobby.

The man was dark-skinned and in his late twenties, and he was staring back at Melissa as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. Then, in a few quick steps, he crossed to her and grabbed her wrist, barking out something in Konkani. Samir whirled around, but something in Melissa’s expression stopped him from intervening.

‘What are you doing here?’ the man demanded, almost shaking Melissa. ‘And who’s the guy?’

‘My boss,’ she said. ‘Let me go,
men
, you’re making a scene.’

Her Goan accent had suddenly become more pronounced, and her eyes were flashing with rage. As soon as she said the magic ‘boss’ word, though, the man released her arm, looking embarrassed.

Melissa sighed.

‘Samir, meet my brother Michael,’ she said. Then she elbowed Michael and said a few rapid sentences in Konkani. Probably something like,
Stop being a boor and be polite to my scary boss or he’ll sack me
, because Michael held out a hand to Samir with a passable imitation of a polite smile.

‘Welcome to Goa,
men
,’ he said. ‘Are you here for work?’

‘No, he’s here to look at the coconut trees,’ Melissa said tartly. ‘Of course we’re here for work. How are Cheryl and the kids?’

‘They’re fine,’ he said awkwardly. ‘Justin still talks about you—asks about his Melly Aunty.’

He didn’t look angry any longer, Samir noted—just upset and confused. Evidently there was a lot wrong here.

‘And how’s...’ Melissa didn’t complete the sentence, but Michael understood her.

‘Dad’s fine,’ he said. ‘Though his blood pressure’s been on the high side. Come and see him, Melissa. It’s been such a long while.... I can’t believe you’re here in Goa and didn’t even tell me.’

It was clear that Melissa didn’t want to reply, and Samir came to the rescue. ‘We should be joining the others,’ he said in what he hoped was a suitably authoritative tone. ‘Maybe you could catch up with your brother some time tomorrow, Melissa?’

Michael looked as if he wanted to say something, but he didn’t get a chance—Melissa gave him a hug and said, ‘He’s right. There’s heaps of things to do—mustn’t dawdle. I’ll call you, Mickey
dada
. Sorry, Samir.’

Samir took the cue, and after giving Michael a quick nod turned and strode away towards the hotel lobby. Melissa scurried after him, and after a few minutes he shortened his stride so that she could keep up.

‘Thanks,’ she said as they entered the hotel.

Michael was still standing where they had left him, his expression puzzled and a little hurt, and Melissa was feeling dreadfully guilty. Not guilty enough to go back and have a proper conversation with him, but enough to want to be out of his sight.

Samir looked around. It was only seven, and there was an hour before dinner started. ‘Do you want to go and wait in the bar till dinner begins, or would you like to go back to your room?’

‘Bar,’ Melissa said gloomily. ‘Though I won’t be very good company. I wish I drank. I’d like to get completely sloshed.’

She looked so ruffled that Samir impulsively put an arm around her and gave her an affectionate squeeze.

It was a perfectly innocuous gesture—brotherly, even—Melissa could only blame her own overactive hormones for her instant reaction. Trying not to be obvious by pulling away abruptly, she stayed absolutely still until he let go of her.

Seemingly unconscious of the upheaval he’d caused in her mind, he asked, ‘Family problems?’

‘The family has problems with me,’ she said. ‘So, yes, I suppose you could call it family problems.’

He waited till she was sitting down with a glass of juice in her hand before he said, ‘Want to talk about it?’

‘I wouldn’t want to bore you,’ she said. ‘It’s not such a big deal.’

But clearly it was—her voice was wobbly and her eyes looked suspiciously damp.

Samir put a hand lightly over hers. ‘I don’t get bored easily,’ he said.

‘My dad disowned me a couple of years ago,’ she said tightly. ‘Struck my name out of the family Bible and all that. Michael was pretty upset with me as well, but he’s come around. Cheryl’s level-headed—she must have talked some sense into him.’

‘What happened—a guy?’

Melissa grimaced. ‘Predictable, isn’t it? My dad flipped out. It wasn’t even anything terribly serious—just a teenage crush—I’d have lost interest if he hadn’t made such a fuss.’

Samir frowned. Something didn’t sound quite right. ‘He threw you out of the house because you had a crush on a guy?’

‘No...not exactly. I was going through a rebellious phase, and... Well, I overstepped the mark quite a bit. Anyway, let’s talk about something else; my love life isn’t exactly the most thrilling topic.’

‘Neither is mine,’ Samir said, his voice deadpan. ‘So that leaves politics and the economy. At this rate we’ll soon be reduced to talking about the weather.’

In spite of herself, Melissa laughed. ‘Storms are brewing in North Goa,’ she said. ‘That’s where my folks live.’

‘What was he like?’ Samir asked abruptly.

There was something vaguely unsettling in the thought of Melissa having had a relationship serious enough for her to have broken ties with her family. Evidently the man was no longer in the picture—maybe they’d broken up afterwards.

‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ Melissa said, shaking her head firmly. ‘I need to take my mind off him, and my brother, and... Oh, what the heck? I think I’ll have a drink after all.’ She beckoned to a waiter and ordered a vodka with orange juice.

‘Are you sure you can handle that?’ Samir asked, eyeing the way she glugged it back with misgiving.

Melissa laughed. ‘I come from a family of hard drinkers,’ she said. ‘My grandmother could probably drink you under the table. Turning teetotal was my way of rebelling.’

Many rounds later, Samir had to acknowledge that Melissa had inherited her grandmother’s capacity for strong liquor. Not a heavy drinker himself, he was beginning to feel the effect of the vodkas. Melissa, on the other hand, was looking just the same—maybe just a tad more bight-eyed and chatty than she had been at the start of the evening.

‘One more?’ she asked, tapping Samir’s empty glass with her finger.

He shook his head ruefully. ‘I’m done,’ he said. ‘Any more and they’ll have to carry me out of here.’

‘Bo-ring,’ she said. ‘Come on, Samir, don’t be a wuss. I was hoping you’d take me dancing after this.’

‘Sorry—too old,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you go with that Akash guy who was trying to chat you up so desperately?’

‘Ah, so you noticed?’ Melissa said. ‘He’s cute, but he’s not really my type. Too chirpy. I like cynical brooding types.’

She was giving him a frankly assessing look, and Samir wondered if he’d got his initial reading wrong. Maybe she
was
drunk after all. Whatever the reason, the way she was looking at him was enough to make any red-blooded male lose his head.

Hurriedly, he got to his feet, reminding himself why he couldn’t touch her. She was young, probably drunk, and she was an employee—there was no way he could pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless the way he wanted to. Better to leave before things got out of hand.

‘I’m going to bed,’ he said when she gave him an inquiring look.

‘Ooh, good idea,’ she said, sliding off the bar stool. ‘I’ll come with you.’

All right, so she was definitely drunk. For a few seconds he thought he’d heard her wrong. Then he thought he’d misunderstood—but clearly he hadn’t.

‘Melissa,’ he said as she followed him down the winding path that led to his cottage. ‘Your room’s the other way; it’s in the main part of the hotel.’

‘Of course it is,’ she said, laughing at him. ‘But I’m not going there. I’m coming with you.’

She was feeling reckless—a combination of alcohol and the euphoria of being back in Goa. It had also been a long while since her last relationship had broken up. In the dim light of the bar Samir looked every inch a sex god, and resisting temptation seemed downright stupid.

‘Look, I don’t think this is a good idea,’ he said. ‘We’ve both had too much to drink, and...’

‘And we shouldn’t do something we’ll regret tomorrow?’ Melissa wrinkled her nose. ‘Samir, if you wrote your own ads they’d be so full of clichés you’d have to pay copyright to the greetings cards company.’

‘Melissa...’

‘Shh,’ she said and, leaning up, she kissed him full on the mouth.

Her lips were inviting, warm and lush against his, and then there was her pliant body, pressed provocatively against his. Involuntarily, Samir found himself returning the kiss, his arms coming up to pull her closer.

They were almost at the cottage, and later he couldn’t remember opening the door or switching on the lights. But he did remember carrying her to bed and undressing her. And drinking in the sight of her near perfect body spread out on the bed before making wild, passionate love to her all night long.