Page 50

So she had showered, spent extra time selecting her clothes — the new strapless cream satin number that she had bought yesterday.

It tied up at her back and left everything bare with a capital B until it again hugged her hips and flared to her thighs.

She had also bought a three-strand pearl choker because how could she not buy jewellery in Italy?

She fastened it around her neck now, feeling not even a little extra.

She was a princess after all. Being wooed by a prince.

As normal as they wanted to make their lives, she would make him work for it like a self-respecting princess must.

Avantika finished off her ensemble with a silk scarf that she used to loosely tie her hair at the nape of her neck, Italian style. It was roses and holly, more of the holly, and added that extra oomph to her solo sightseeing day.

She didn’t get much sightseeing though. Because she spent an extra hour getting ready, then another half hour enjoying a coffee with pastry that was less breakfast and more dessert at a local hole-in-the-wall cafe.

That brought her to the Piazza Grande at the peak of noon, when the cathedral bell was tolling and birds were singing.

This time she chose to walk around and soak in the sights instead of shopping.

Yesterday she had been so giddy with joy and a little…

excited to get new clothes for him that she had skipped all the gorgeousness.

Like the cathedral and all the frescoes painting its walls and dome.

Like the Medici architecture. Like the statues of Ferdinando I de' Medici that reminded her of Oscar Wilde’s The Happy Prince — the one who had given away all his gold leaves and precious jewels to bring opulence to a town.

Like the Romanesque fountain in the centre of the square.

She stopped there. Nobody was throwing coins into it like Trevi Fountain but she spied a few lying at the base of the shallow trench of water.

Avantika reached inside her purse to pluck one and leaned over the fountain to confirm if those tiny, shiny objects were indeed coins.

She leaned in some more, until one foot left the ground.

“Aaaah!” She lost her balance and crouched to hold onto the stone embankment when an arm came around her stomach. It pulled her back.

“When did my star batter become so clumsy?” He laughed in her ear. She huffed, getting her bearings back as she turned in his arms — “You are early.”

“So?”

“So if I knew you were around I wouldn’t be pulling such stunts.”

“Why is that?”

“To act like a princess.”

His eyebrows furrowed. Avantika stepped back.

And that’s when she saw it. Him in his Samarth-the-prince-out-of-India avatar.

From his appearance, it seemed even he had put some extra effort into his look today.

Gone were his plain polos and denims, no more formal shirts and pants.

He had on a blue linen shirt tucked loosely into brown pleated pants.

His wayfarers hid his eyes from her but she knew they were smiling.

“Ava?”

“What?”

“You look like a princess even when you wash your dishes.”

“This is taareef or tauheen?”

He smirked, slipping his hand to her back, under her hair, touching all that bare skin. Her nerve endings tightened. Samarth’s hand splayed on her back, feeling like it was touching it from end to end. Was his hand that big or was her back extra small suddenly?

“If it’s me saying it,” he pulled her flush against his body. “And if it’s about you,” he pushed the tendrils of hair stuck to her sweaty throat. “Then it is taareef, Ava. Always taareef.”

She swallowed. All her plans of making him work for it were evaporating under the hot Tuscan sun. Her head was bent at a painful angle to try to find his eyes behind his wayfarers and he was enjoying every second of it. Or that’s what the smirk on his mouth said.

“Your massage was nice, I assume,” she changed the topic to collect her thoughts.

“It was.”

“Who was the masseuse?”

“A doctor.”

“Was she pretty?”

“He.”

“Oh.”

“I think Ritu took over after the first few minutes… I don’t know though, I was aslee…” he cowered from her whacks, laughing, pushing away. “Ava! Stop!” She went on hitting him, chasing him around the fountain. Tourists watched on as a 6”1’ man ran scared of a 5”2’ girl.

She caught him by the collar of his shirt and got a few good ones in before he turned and locked her arms, his body rattling. “I was wrong.”

“About what?”

“About my cricketer becoming clumsy. You can still smash balls. And me.”

“Remember that when your balls are in my grip.”

She expected him to pull back scandalised. Instead, he tightened his hold over her, pushing her breasts into his chest.

“They are the only ones you’ll hold so think twice before smashing.”

She drew back, scandalised.

“Samarth Sinh Solanki with his virgin’s reputation to protect last night. What happened? Pain gone after that ice bath and your Ritu’s massage?”

“I wasn’t in pain.”

“Then why did you keep pushing me?!”

His eyes squinted, as if debating. Then — “I didn’t have condoms,” he answered sheepishly.

Her mouth dropped open. His smouldering vibe changed to pookie in a millisecond and she burst out laughing — “You could have told me that.”

He rolled his eyes.

“I am serious! You could have just said it — ‘Hey, Ava, we need condoms. I don’t have any.’” She tried imitating him with all the laughing going on. Failed.

“Yeah,” he scratched the back of his head. “I think I should have…”

She wheezed. “Open communication, my friend…”

He grabbed her ponytail and pulled her waist closer — “Ok, we are done with that now. No ‘my friend, ‘bae,’ ‘bro.’ You are not my friend anymore.”

“As opposed to earlier when I was?” She rolled her eyes.

“I am serious, Ava.”

“So what should I say now? Open communication, boyfriend?”

“That does have a nice ring to it,” he lowered his ear to her mouth. “You can repeat it.”

She leaned up on her tiptoes, pushing her mouth to the fleshy edge of his ear. Then took it between her teeth and bit. “Ava,” he reared back with a gasp, glancing around the fountain.

“So shy, Kunwarji. How will you even get naked tonight?” She waggled her eyebrows.

“Who said I’ll wait that long?”

“ You were running away from me, I was ready.”

“Did you have lunch?”

She pouted, hating how he had cut off the most fun and… arousing conversation she had had in her life.

“Ava?”

“I ate a late brunch.”

“It’s 1.30 now.”

“Yeah,” she blinked. “I had coffee and brunch at 12. So almost lunch. You?”

“Same. A heavy brunch after my sessions.”

“So what do you want to do now? The sun is getting too hot to handle. Wanna find a shaded spot?”

“No.”

“Then?”

“Come with me,” he trailed his hand down her arm and took her hand. Her fingers clasped into his and he pulled her along, down the square and up the tiny cobblestone street that led to their hotel.

“Are we going back to the hotel?”

When he did not say anything, her heart rate spiked.

“Did you forget something?”

He kept going, keeping her close and manoeuvring with her to avoid the crowds lining up outside ristorantes or cafes.

“Samarth…” she trailed as he spun her into his arm just at the entrance of their hotel.

The street was cool and shaded, and yet her skin heated up as he held her closed into his body with just one arm, the said arm on her back, under her loose ponytail, caressing the skin that again came under his entire palm.

“Ava.” His head dipped.

“Hmm?”

“I want to wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“After we are married.”

“You don’t trust me?”

He let out an incredulous laugh.

“Then why did you bring me back here?” She pouted.

“Open communication. Here it is — let’s not go all the way.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “It just feels right to wait. We have both had no experience. I don’t know what good I’ll be. Let’s take it slow.”

“But you want to start , isn’t it?” She eyed his chest, the smattering of hair peeping out of the V of his shirt. His fingers took her chin and tugged her face up — “Yes.”

She took his chin and gave it a shake — “My virgin boyfriend… Aaa!”

The world tilted as he slung her over his shoulder.

“Samarth!”

He was walking through the hotel lobby.

“Oh my gawwwdd! Samarth! Put me down! You crazy! What’s wrong with you?!! They are all looking!”

“Let them look.”

“They’ll know!!!”

“What?” He pressed for the elevator and it opened with a ding. Avantika saw the elevator upside down and muttered a grateful prayer that it was empty.

“Samarth! They’ll know!”

“I repeat — What?”

“That… that I am your girlfriend!”

“You are.”

“We checked in separately!”

“So?”

“So…?” The elevator dinged again and he walked down the lobby to her room.

A beep, the door swung open and she found herself righted on the bed, bouncing, finding her bearings again.

And then the 6”1’ polo player was on her, his mouth in the crook of her neck and his fingers pulling the scarf from her hair.

“You should have tied your hair up,” he grunted into her skin, laving the hollow of her clavicle. She gasped as he nipped it, pressing into her flesh.

Avantika grabbed his jaw and held it back — “Good boys don’t bite like that!”

He smirked, dipped his head to her chin and gave her another little nip — “Don’t they?”

Her stomach somersaulted, dropping somewhere lower. She wanted him there, to do something about it. But she also needed to make this last long.

“Still not naked, Kunwarji. Shy?”

He stopped kissing his way down her throat and got to his feet. Samarth took three steps back and stood there, his eyes on her. They slowly turned intense, as if going from her head to her shoe-clad toes as she lay splayed on the bed was fanning some flame.

“Tell me what you want to do,” he asserted, clasping his hands behind his back. Like a prince.

“All that you want to do and are too shy to do,” she grinned.

“Then you say it out loud.”