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‘So there isn’t a spice garden here at all?’
‘There is.’ Nikhil’s smile was self-deprecatory. ‘We can go there if you really want. Or we can go directly to the backwaters.’
‘But we’ll get there a lot earlier than the others,’ Shweta pointed out. ‘They haven’t even started getting into the buses, and you drive like a maniac—you’ll take half the time they will.’
‘We’ll take one of the small houseboats out,’ he said. ‘Just the two of us. It’ll be more peaceful than joining a hundred accountants.’
‘You really don’t like accountants, do you?’
‘I like some.’
His smile deepened as he looked right into her eyes, and Shweta said hurriedly, ‘OK, we’ll take the boat,’ before she could start blushing again.
Only later did she realise that he hadn’t asked her if she wanted to come with him—he’d just assumed she would.
Once they reached the pier Shweta was glad Nikhil had made the choice for her. The small boat he was pointing out was a hundred times more charming than the double-decker monstrosities that were lined up for the rest of the group. And the backwaters were lovely—a network of canals opening into a huge, still expanse of water flanked by rows and rows of coconut trees. Little houseboats were moored by the banks, and there were water birds all around, gracefully swooping through the air to land on the water.
‘Time slows down here,’ Shweta said wonderingly as their boat was cast off and negotiated through one of the narrow channels into a wider stretch. ‘It seems so far away from Mumbai.’
‘It is pretty far from Mumbai.’ There was a smile twitching at Nikhil’s lips. ‘Almost two thousand kilometres. But I know what you mean.’
‘And people actually live in these boats?’
‘These ones are mainly for the use of tourists,’ he said. ‘Take a look at the inside, if you want.’
The inside wasn’t really all that impressive—it was just a small room with cane furniture, and in spite of the slow speed they had to be careful not to rock the boat by moving around it too much. And the bed in the centre was all too suggestive.
Suddenly very conscious that she was alone with Nikhil, Shweta said, ‘It was nicer outside, wasn’t it?’
‘This isn’t bad either,’ Nikhil said. He was sprawled lazily on a cane chair, with a beer in one hand. ‘Stop hopping around like a jittery kitten and sit down. I don’t bite.’
‘I should have brought my work phone,’ Shweta said. ‘There’s an e-mail that’s supposed to come in this morning from a client and I totally forgot.’ She looked fretfully at her little yellow clutch purse. ‘It wouldn’t fit properly into this.’ But the purse had perfectly matched her outfit, and she’d decided to leave her phone behind.
‘You work very hard, don’t you?’
It didn’t sound as if he meant it as a compliment, and Shweta immediately went on the defensive. ‘I don’t work any harder than my colleagues do.’
‘Nothing wrong with working hard,’ he said. ‘It’s just that you don’t seem to take any time out to have fun.’
He stretched out the word a little, and it was quite evident what kind of fun he had in mind. Despite herself, Shweta felt her cheeks growing warm.
‘Don’t make assumptions,’ she snapped. ‘I have enough fun, thank you very much. I needed to reply to this e-mail as soon as it comes in—that’s why I’m worried.’
Nikhil got up and came to stand behind her. ‘Do you want to go back?’ he asked. ‘We can if it’s really urgent.’
For a second Shweta almost said yes. Not because the e-mail was all that urgent, but because Nikhil’s proximity was throwing her nicely ordered world into turmoil. Then the ridiculousness of it all struck her and she shook her head.
‘I’ll phone him,’ she said. ‘It’s just that this particular client is a bit picky—he calls up my boss for the smallest thing.’
As it turned out, though, the client was on a camping trip in Alibagh and had completely forgotten to send the e-mail before he left. He even had the grace to apologise for the delay.
‘So that’s OK, then,’ she said after she rang off. ‘I hate having work stuff hanging over me like that.’
‘Stop thinking about work now,’ Nikhil said, putting his hands on her shoulders.
Shweta went completely still as he started massaging her neck and shoulders gently. She could feel the tension seep out, but it was replaced by a set of entirely different sensations. She was acutely conscious of the strength in his lean hands. The temptation to turn into his arms was intense, and she felt positively bereft when he removed his hands after a few minutes.
‘Why were you asking me about Siddhant?’
There was a little pause, then Nikhil said, ‘I have a theory about the two of you. Look, I’m sorry—it’s none of my business really.’
Of course as soon as he said that she had to know more.
‘A theory about us?’ she asked, trying to sound casual and unconcerned. Somehow, she had a feeling she wasn’t fooling Nikhil one bit.
‘You don’t give a damn for him,’ Nikhil said bluntly. ‘But for some reason you’ve led him on to think that you’re interested.’
Shweta flushed. Nikhil was only saying something Priya had been telling her for months, and there was no earthly reason she should feel the need to justify herself. She still found herself explaining, though.
‘We’ve been dating for a while,’ she said. ‘I was planning to say yes if he asked me to marry him. It’s only for the last month or so that I’ve not been so sure.’
‘Why not?’ he asked, his voice quiet.
Shweta felt that a lot depended on her answer. ‘He’s a little...’ She’d been about to say judgemental, but it felt disloyal to be talking about Siddhant with Nikhil. ‘I don’t know what it is, really, but I don’t think we’d suit.’
‘You wouldn’t.’
Her eyes widened at the bald statement. ‘You hardly know either of us!’ she said, and continued hastily when he raised his eyebrows, ‘You knew me a long while ago. I was just a kid then. I’ve changed!’
‘I’m sure you have,’ Nikhil said. ‘But you used to be a very straightforward person, and people don’t change fundamentally. So what I find difficult to understand is why you’d even contemplate marrying a man you don’t care two hoots about.’
Shweta glared at him. ‘You just said it isn’t any of your business, and I wholeheartedly agree,’ she said. ‘Why are you so bothered about me and Siddhant, anyway?’
‘Because I don’t want to feel guilty when I do this,’ Nikhil said, bringing his head down to hers and kissing her mouth very, very gently.
Shweta stood stock-still, frozen in shock. A kiss was the last thing she’d been expecting, but the sensation was incredible, his lips warm and teasing against hers. Her hands came up involuntarily to clasp him around the neck. Oh, but it felt so good—familiar, and wildly exciting at the same time. She clung to him as the kiss deepened, giving a little gasp of protest when he finally stepped back.
‘I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since I saw you yesterday,’ he said, the edges of his voice rough with desire. ‘It was all I could do to keep my hands off you.’
Shweta looked up at him, too shaken to speak. The kiss had awakened a swarm of emotions in her and she wasn’t sure how to react.
Nikhil gazed back at her, his dark eyes smouldering. It was taking all his self-control not to pull her back into his arms. Her inexperience showed, though, and until he was sure of his own feelings he didn’t want to go too far.
‘Maybe we should go back outside,’ he said, his voice softening as he put up a hand to touch her cheek. ‘I don’t trust myself alone with you for too long.’
Shweta felt like crying out in frustration. She wanted to be alone with him, to take the kiss further—but she could hardly say so. Mutely she followed him out on to the deck of the boat.
‘The others should be on the boats by now,’ he said. ‘Do you want to wait till they catch up with us or go on to the village?’
‘Go on to the village,’ she muttered.
The last thing she wanted was a bunch of her colleagues gawking at her—Priya at least would be sure to smell a rat. And Siddhant... She needed to make it clear to him that it was off between them. Only it would be a slightly difficult thing to put across, given that he hadn’t formally proposed in the first place.
Nikhil came to stand next to her, his sleeve brushing her bare arm as he leaned against the handrail. ‘The boatman says we’ll reach it in fifteen minutes,’ he said. ‘We’ll get some time to look around the village then.’
Except that they didn’t, because his new team head who was supposed to be managing the project had a sudden attack of nerves and Nikhil had to step in to avoid a crisis.
Left to her own devices, Shweta wandered around the little resort village, admiring the local handicrafts and watching a troupe of dancers rehearse their steps.
‘Nikhil Sir is calling you,’ one of the trainees said behind her, and Shweta turned to see Nikhil beckoning to her from the pier.
‘The boats are about to come in,’ he said as she joined him. ‘We have a little surprise planned.’
He slung an arm casually around her shoulders and she had to fight the impulse to lean closer into his embrace. ‘What kind of surprise?’
‘Look,’ he said.
The four large boats carrying the office gang were now lined up on either side of the narrow stretch of water.
‘Aren’t they docking?’ she asked, puzzled. The boats seemed to be waiting for something. Before Nikhil could answer her, she realised what they were waiting for. ‘The snake boats!’ she said. ‘But how’s that possible...? This isn’t the time of year for the races, is it?’
But the snake boats were there—immensely long canoes, with almost a hundred rowers per boat wearing T-shirts in their team colours over veshtis.
Shweta clutched at Nikhil’s arm in excitement. ‘I’ve always wanted to see the races!’ she said. ‘I used to watch them on TV when I was a kid, but this is the first time I’ve been to Kerala... Ooh, they’re off!’
Nikhil smiled down at her, amused by her evident excitement. The snake boats were a pretty amazing sight. The teams of rowers, working in perfect synchronization, propelled them down the channel faster than the average motorboat. He was about to point out the finer points of the race when something caught his eye.
‘Damn,’ he muttered. Releasing Shweta’s arm, he sprinted to the makeshift dais at the end of the pier which his team was using to make announcements from. The girl he’d put in charge was holding the microphone idly, her entire attention focussed on the snake boats.
Nikhil grabbed the mike from her. ‘Viewing boat Number Two—yes, you guys on my left—please don’t crowd near the guardrail. Your boat is tilting. We don’t want you to land up in the water. Especially since I see that many of you have taken off your life jackets.’
There were some squeals of alarm from the occupants of the boat and they stepped back from the rail. The boat was still tilting a little, though not at quite such an alarming angle. Nikhil cast a quick eye around the other boats.
‘Keep an eye on them,’ he instructed, handing the mike back to his hugely embarrassed event manager. ‘Don’t panic them, but make sure the boat doesn’t go over. And once everyone’s on land call for a quick team meeting—this shouldn’t have happened.’
‘It wasn’t her fault,’ Shweta protested as Nikhil rejoined her. ‘How was she to know that everyone would go thronging to one side?’
‘It’s her job to know,’ he said, frowning. He’d been so distracted by Shweta that he’d lost sight of why he was really here. He should be with his team, making sure that nothing went wrong, but he hadn’t been able to tear himself away from her side.
She was leaning forward a little now, her lips slightly parted as she watched the rowers put in a last furious effort to get the snake boats across the finish line.
‘I knew the purple team would win,’ she said, her eyes glowing with satisfaction.
Nikhil wished he could pull her into his arms and kiss her. Instead, he put a casual arm around her shoulders, pretending not to notice the slight quiver that ran through her. ‘There’s still one more race to go,’ he said. ‘I bet the yellow T-shirts win this time.’
‘Purple,’ she said, aware that she sounded a little breathless. Nikhil’s proximity was doing strange things to her pulse-rate.
‘Dinner with me in Mumbai if yellow wins?’ he said.
Shweta looked up at him. ‘And if they lose?’
‘If they lose I’ll take you out for dinner before we leave Kerala.’
‘A little illogical, that.’
‘Not really,’ he said, and his voice was like a caress.
Shweta acted as if she hadn’t heard him. Flirting was not something she was good at, and she suspected that Nikhil was only flirting with her out of habit. She knew she hadn’t changed all that much from her schooldays—her glasses were gone, and she had a better hairstyle, but inside she was still the studious, slightly tomboyish and totally uncool girl she’d been fourteen years ago. The kiss she couldn’t explain away. It had felt as if the attraction was as red-hot on his side as hers, but he’d pulled away and hadn’t tried to get her alone afterwards. Of course they’d been under the gaze of his entire events crew—not to mention four boatloads of her colleagues.
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