Page 9 of Driven By Desire
S hame and embarrassment were now Max’s constant companions.
She couldn’t believe she’d been so cruel, even in anger.
Krish and she had completed the rest of their discussion via email.
Emails covered in frost that seeped through to her very bones.
Much as she’d hoped otherwise, the freezing politeness hadn’t stopped the deal from going through.
The only thing keeping her from pulling back herself had been the desperate affection of a little girl who seemed for some strange reason to have taken a shine to her and the inexplicable attraction she felt for an aggravating man she barely understood.
She hadn’t seen him since she’d started working on the car.
If she’d been deluding herself about her own importance, she would have thought he was deliberately avoiding her.
She was just finishing a complete body mock-up of the car when she heard Pooja skipping towards her.
It amazed her how fast this had become a daily routine.
While she might not have seen the eldest brother at all in the last one week, the littlest Mehra was her regular evening visitor.
Aditya was home in time to pick her up from the school bus stop and he was the official babysitter until Chirag and Krish got home from their respective offices.
Unofficially, she was Max’s little shadow.
“Hi.” Hair pulled back from her face by a plain, black hair band, green and cream school tunic drooping, she tossed her school bag down on to the ground and rummaged inside for a book.
“Hi. How was school?” A quick inventory of the scrawny body netted her a new bruise near the right knee.
A shrug was the only answer she got before Pooja buried her nose in a story book.
Moving on to dismantling the car for painting, Max waited a few minutes before casually saying, “You know when I was your age, there was this girl in my class named Laxmi who was a terrible bully. Every day she would wait for me to walk out of the school gate before following me the whole way home.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad.” Shadowed eyes watched her from above the top of the book.
Smiling wryly, Max put her wrench down before saying, “The entire way she walked two steps behind me yelling ‘see the boy who pretends to be a girl’ along with other less repeatable insults.”
“You should have hit her.” Outrage had Pooja mangling her book.
Gently removing the book from her hands, Max sat down next to her. “Not that I’m defending her but I did look like a boy. Dad didn’t have a clue how to braid, tie or in any other form style my hair for school so he decided to cut it short. Really short. The army would have approved of my haircut.”
Pleased with the muffled laugh she’d gotten from the child, she continued, “My mom had died a few years before that and my poor father tried, really tried but he just never understood how important style could be to a girl just entering her teens.”
“What did you do then?”
Deciding that if she was trying to preach non-violence, telling Pooja that she’d clobbered Laxmi with her school bag wouldn’t work, Max improvised, “I told my father all about it and I got him to call hers. I think they grounded her for a month.”
Silence prevailed for a few minutes before Pooja whispered, “There is this girl in my class.”
Waiting patiently for her to continue, Max picked up the greasy wrench near her and started to clean.
“She teases me about…” The sentence trailed off as Pooja dropped her head into her arms and started to sob.
Alarmed now, Max scooted closer. Settling Pooja into her lap the best she could, she held and rocked the child till the sobs subsided into whimpers. After what felt like ages, Pooja whispered, “She calls me a cow.”
“A cow?” It took Max a minute to get the connection. “The little bitch.”
Belatedly realizing the audience she had, she groaned, “Please don’t repeat that word to anyone.”
Wriggling out of her lap with a watery giggle, Pooja sat down in front of her.
“Sweetheart, we all come in different sizes. My hair wasn’t the only reason I looked like a boy. For the longest time I was flat as a board.”
Tipping Pooja’s chin up, she forced her to meet her gaze. “Big, small, medium it makes no difference, Pooja. You are who you are on the inside and you, sweetie, are beautiful inside and out.”
“It shows through my uniform sometimes. I try to cross my arms and sit as much as possible.”
“That,” Max declared, “We can fix.”
“We can?” Hope and joy came together in a rib crushing hug that had Max holding on just as tight. Oh yes they could. It just meant facing her own, personal ogre.
---***---
“I need to talk to you.”
Shutting the car door with a decisive snap, Krish turned and took in the sight of Max framed in his doorway. Dressed in simple gray tights and an oversize black t-shirt with comfortable sneakers and her trademark colourful bangles, she made for a soft, welcoming sight. Until she started talking.
“We’re going bra shopping.”
“You want me to buy you bras?” Bewildered, he shook his head to try and clear the confusion swimming through it. Only to have it fill with visions of Max in nothing but lacy scraps of underwear. Hell, he’d buy out Victoria Secret on his next trip abroad if she promised to model it for him.
“Krish, are you listening to me?”
Belatedly realizing she was still talking, he tuned back in to the conversation to hear her end with, “Pooja should have been wearing one months ago.”
“Pooja??” Horrified at even having to contemplate a conversation that involved his baby sister and bras, Krish sagged against his car. “What the hell are you going on about? She’s a kid.”
“She needs training bras. She should have been wearing one months ago. You get good stuff at the mall in Financial District..”
Krish’s brain short circuited. Mortification warred with helplessness. How the hell had he missed this? It had never even occurred to him but it should have. It goddamn should have. Bracing himself against the car, he fought the waves of exhaustion that swept through him.
“Max, that’s the other end of the world. This can’t wait till the weekend?”
“She’s being bullied at school. That’s what all the fights at school are about. She needs them now and you get the best ones there.”
That sealed the deal. Clenching his jaw, he threw his laptop bag back into the rear seat. “You’re coming along?”
“Only if you want me to.”
He wanted her a little too much and for a lot more than what promised to be a mortifying shopping trip. Shoving his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t fall on her like a starving man at a feast, he managed a brusque nod.
She was hurrying into the house to bring a mortally embarrassed Pooja out when he stopped her with a quiet, “Thank you, Max.”
Formal gray trousers and a plain, white shirt were the perfect foil for his dark, good looks.
Add in the rock solid sense of responsibility, the heart that beat so strongly for his family and the hint of vulnerability in the otherwise shuttered gaze that looked at her and Max didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell.
“I’m sorry.”
The husky apology scraped across already raw nerves and had Krish fisting his hand in his pocket to stop from reaching for her.
“I should never have said what I did that night. I was wrong.”
“So was I.”
Their eyes met and held for a long, dangerously intimate moment. Fighting not to step closer and fulfill the promise the air seemed charged with, Max managed to say, “Want to start over?”
An unsmiling dip of his head was all the answer she got as he continued to stare at her with a banked intensity that had her breath catching.
“I should go get Pooja.”
“Yes, you should.” The quiet answer had her turning and fleeing for the comfort of the house.
Whether she was backing away from the need swarming his eyes or the answering clamor of her heart, she wasn’t sure but Pooja’s unintended chaperonage was the perfect solution to a problem she didn’t completely comprehend.
---***---
An hour and a half later, the bright lights of the mall, the bustling crowds and the chaotic tumult of noise had in no way diminished the intensity of emotion that simmered between the two of them.
Trying hard to ignore the quiet, brooding presence that walked beside her and her own seemingly uncontrollable reaction to him, Max focused on the stream of chatter coming from an excited Pooja.
Finally reaching the lingerie section of the biggest store there, Max caught the eye of the closest saleslady. “We’re looking for training bras.”
“Yes, Ma’am. Come this way.” Leading them over to a quieter section of the store, she started taking out samples for them to look at. Frowning over her shoulder at a pretending to be invisible Krish, Max gestured him forward.
“How many can I buy, Max?”
Stepping closer, Krish caught the soft whisper and felt his heart clench as he watched Pooja reach out and gently touch a blindingly bright pink one.
“You need at least two. Beyond that you’ll need to ask your brother.”
Wary eyes peeked out at him from around Max. When she didn’t voice the question, he asked, “I’m assuming one black and one white would be practical?”
Eyes guarded, Max nodded once in reply to his question. That left the terribly impractical sunny yellow with peach stars, pista green with white roses on it and the hot pink on the table.
“We’ll take all of them.” The loud gasp of excitement was reward enough for him.
Smiling at the delighted grins both of them gave him, he watched them scoop up their treasure and scurry to the fitting rooms. Belatedly realizing that they’d left him standing alone in the lingerie section, he tried to look casual while escaping as fast as he could to the men’s section.
He’d picked up a couple of shirts for Chirag and Aditya and was browsing the children’s section by the time the ladies, as he’d started to think of them, appeared by his side. Judging by the radiant expressions, the fitting had been a complete success.
“All okay?”
“Everything’s perfect.” Eyes straying to the pretty, mauve dress with white polka dots he held in his right hand, Max felt her heart melt into a gooey puddle at his feet.
She could see two shirts in the bag that she was sure were not meant for him.
Every time she tried to steel herself against the unattainable attraction of him, he did something that had her acting against her better judgment.
“Shall we head towards the billing counter?”
“Not yet.” Crouching down near Pooja, he held the dress out to her. “Would you like to try this on?”
Hurting for him when Pooja did nothing but stare at the dress he held out with a blank expression, Max stepped forward to intervene.
She didn’t get far though before Pooja threw her arms around her big brother.
Muffled sobs exploded out of her for the second time that evening as she hid her face in the side of his neck.
Dropping his shopping bag, Krish gathered her up in a ferocious embrace.
Finding herself once again intruding on what was a private family moment, Max picked up the fallen shopping bag.
Rising, she was about to move past the two of them when Krish’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. Surprised, she looked down only to find that Krish still had his face turned towards Pooja’s flushed and tear streaked face.
Though he didn’t look at her, the gentle but unrelenting grip on her wrist telegraphed its own private message.
Hefting the bag over one shoulder, she ran a tender hand down Pooja’s still heaving back and stayed where she was in silent support.
Knuckling her eyes, Pooja finally pulled back and mumbled, “Thank you.”
“You’re always welcome, Pooj. You know that.” Gently setting her down, he added, “Is there anything else you want or more importantly, need?”
Shaking her head with a restraint and maturity that did him proud, she said, “No. Nothing else.”
“Why don’t you try this dress on then? If it fits, we’ll take it.”
Sniffling back the last of her tears, Pooja held out one hand for the dress and the other towards Max.
Smiling, Max took the tiny hand and started towards the fitting rooms. Raising a quizzical brow when that same hand tugged her to a stop, she turned along with her to see Krish watching them walk away.
“I’m sorry, Bhai.”
And just like that his bruised heart started to heal. “For what baby?”
“For being a brat.”
“Does that mean you’ll never again be one?” he teased.
“It means I’ll try.” Shooting him a cheeky grin, she scampered off in the direction of the fitting rooms.
Max shot him that gorgeous, brilliant smile that did strange things to his normally sensible heart. “Why don’t you pick something out for yourself while she’s trying on this dress?”
I’d rather pick out some lingerie for you instead. Gritting his teeth so he didn’t blurt out what he was thinking, he just shook his head in denial of both his thought and her suggestion.
“I think we’ve wasted enough time. I’ll wait for both of you by the billing counter.” The curt reply had her smile vanishing. Walking away without waiting for a reply, he forced himself not to look back. Some things, however attractive, were not for him. Could never be.