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There was a new rapport between Maan and Geet. He was no longer antagonistic towards her, and she wasn't afraid of him anymore. Their working relationship became cordial, almost friendly.
One evening Maan was working on a new project. Everybody else had left. Geet saw the clock and it was 8. She decided to make some dinner for both of them.
"You are a very good cook," Maan told her smiling eating his dinner.
"Thanks," Geet replied, flushing.
"I don't like vegetables, especially squash", muttered Maan all of a sudden.
"Different strokes for different folks," Geet shot back, "What is it with men and squash?" she exclaimed, throwing up her hands. "I have never met a man who would eat squash in any form. It's a perfectly respectable vegetable. You can make all sorts of things with it."
Maan pursed his lips. "Door props, paperweights''."
"Food things!" she returned.
"Hey, I don't eat paperweights," Maan pointed out.
She shook her head.
"I could smell something yummy. Did you make a dessert?" Maan asked.
"Yes." Geet replied. She got up and started gathering plates. Maan got up and helped, as naturally as if he'd done it all his life.
She gave him an odd look.
"I live alone." He shrugged. "I am used to clearing the table".
"What dessert did you make?" Maan asked.
She laughed. "A pound cake"
He whistled. "I haven't tasted one of those in years. My mom used to make them." His pleasant expressions drained away for a few seconds.
Geet knew he was remembering his mother's death. "It's a chocolate pound cake," she said, smiling, as she tried to draw him out of the past.
"Even better," he said smiling. "And I do hope it's a large pound cake. If you offered to send a slice home with me, I might let you come in an hour late one day next week."
"Why, Maan Sir, that sounds suspiciously like a bribe," she exclaimed.
He grinned. "It is."
"In that case, you can take home two slices," she said. He chuckled.
Following her into the kitchen, Maan asked, "Where do you want these?" when he'd scraped the plates.
"Just put them in the sink. I'll clean up in here later."
Maan looked around quietly. His silence made Geet curious. She turned around, her soft eyes wide and searching.
His own pale brown eyes narrowed on her pretty face in its frame of long black hair. She had a pert figure, enhanced by the brown salwar she was wearing. He felt his whole body clench at the way she was looking at him.
He was so handsome, she was thinking, and he had a killer physique, from his powerful long legs in blue trousers, to his broad chest outlined under the light blue shirt. Blue suited him, she thought.
"You're staring," he pointed out huskily.
She searched for the right words. Her mouth was dry. "Your ears have very nice lobes."
He blinked. "Excuse me?"
She flushed to her hairline. "Oh, good heavens!" She fumbled with the cake knife and it started to fall. He stepped forward and caught it halfway to the floor, just as she dived for it. They collided.
His arm slid around her to prevent her from going headlong into the counter and pulled her up short, right against him. Her intake of breath was audible as she clung to him to keep her footing.
She felt his chin against her temple, heard his breath coming out raggedly. His arm contracted.
"Th'. thanks," she managed to say against his throat. "I'm just so clumsy sometimes!"
"Nobody's perfect!"
She laughed nervously. "Certainly not me. Thanks for saving the cake knife."
"My pleasure."
His voice was almost a purr, deep and soft and slow. He lifted his head very slowly, so that his eyes were suddenly looking right at hers. She felt his chest rise and fall against her breast in an intimacy that grew more smoldering by the second. She looked up, but her eyes stopped at his chiseled mouth. It was very sensuous. She'd never really paid it much attention, until now. And she couldn't quite stop looking at it.
She felt his fingers curling into her long hair, as if he loved the feel of it.
"I love long hair," he said softly. "Yours is beautiful."
"Thanks," she whispered.
"Soft hair, Pretty mouth." He bent and his nose slid against hers as his mouth poised over her parted lips. "Very pretty mouth."
She stood very still, waiting, hoping that he wasn't going to draw back. She loved his strength, his height, the spicy scent of his cologne. She hung there, at his lips, her eyes half closed, waiting, waiting''.
When the shrill noise of his cellphone rang.
They both jumped apart so quickly that Geet almost fell. "Your phone" she said. Was that her voice? It sounded almost artificial.
"I will see who it is" Maan said. His own voice was oddly hoarse and deep, and he didn't look at her as he went out of the room.
Geet looked at the cake, forcing her mind to ignore what had almost happened. She had so many complications in her life right now that she didn't really need another one. But she did wonder if it was possible to put this particular genie back in its bottle.
Just a small scene that came to my mind. Comments/criticisms welcome....
Updates:
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One evening Maan was working on a new project. Everybody else had left. Geet saw the clock and it was 8. She decided to make some dinner for both of them.
"You are a very good cook," Maan told her smiling eating his dinner.
"Thanks," Geet replied, flushing.
"I don't like vegetables, especially squash", muttered Maan all of a sudden.
"Different strokes for different folks," Geet shot back, "What is it with men and squash?" she exclaimed, throwing up her hands. "I have never met a man who would eat squash in any form. It's a perfectly respectable vegetable. You can make all sorts of things with it."
Maan pursed his lips. "Door props, paperweights''."
"Food things!" she returned.
"Hey, I don't eat paperweights," Maan pointed out.
She shook her head.
"I could smell something yummy. Did you make a dessert?" Maan asked.
"Yes." Geet replied. She got up and started gathering plates. Maan got up and helped, as naturally as if he'd done it all his life.
She gave him an odd look.
"I live alone." He shrugged. "I am used to clearing the table".
"What dessert did you make?" Maan asked.
She laughed. "A pound cake"
He whistled. "I haven't tasted one of those in years. My mom used to make them." His pleasant expressions drained away for a few seconds.
Geet knew he was remembering his mother's death. "It's a chocolate pound cake," she said, smiling, as she tried to draw him out of the past.
"Even better," he said smiling. "And I do hope it's a large pound cake. If you offered to send a slice home with me, I might let you come in an hour late one day next week."
"Why, Maan Sir, that sounds suspiciously like a bribe," she exclaimed.
He grinned. "It is."
"In that case, you can take home two slices," she said. He chuckled.
Following her into the kitchen, Maan asked, "Where do you want these?" when he'd scraped the plates.
"Just put them in the sink. I'll clean up in here later."
Maan looked around quietly. His silence made Geet curious. She turned around, her soft eyes wide and searching.
His own pale brown eyes narrowed on her pretty face in its frame of long black hair. She had a pert figure, enhanced by the brown salwar she was wearing. He felt his whole body clench at the way she was looking at him.
He was so handsome, she was thinking, and he had a killer physique, from his powerful long legs in blue trousers, to his broad chest outlined under the light blue shirt. Blue suited him, she thought.
"You're staring," he pointed out huskily.
She searched for the right words. Her mouth was dry. "Your ears have very nice lobes."
He blinked. "Excuse me?"
She flushed to her hairline. "Oh, good heavens!" She fumbled with the cake knife and it started to fall. He stepped forward and caught it halfway to the floor, just as she dived for it. They collided.
His arm slid around her to prevent her from going headlong into the counter and pulled her up short, right against him. Her intake of breath was audible as she clung to him to keep her footing.
She felt his chin against her temple, heard his breath coming out raggedly. His arm contracted.
"Th'. thanks," she managed to say against his throat. "I'm just so clumsy sometimes!"
"Nobody's perfect!"
She laughed nervously. "Certainly not me. Thanks for saving the cake knife."
"My pleasure."
His voice was almost a purr, deep and soft and slow. He lifted his head very slowly, so that his eyes were suddenly looking right at hers. She felt his chest rise and fall against her breast in an intimacy that grew more smoldering by the second. She looked up, but her eyes stopped at his chiseled mouth. It was very sensuous. She'd never really paid it much attention, until now. And she couldn't quite stop looking at it.
She felt his fingers curling into her long hair, as if he loved the feel of it.
"I love long hair," he said softly. "Yours is beautiful."
"Thanks," she whispered.
"Soft hair, Pretty mouth." He bent and his nose slid against hers as his mouth poised over her parted lips. "Very pretty mouth."
She stood very still, waiting, hoping that he wasn't going to draw back. She loved his strength, his height, the spicy scent of his cologne. She hung there, at his lips, her eyes half closed, waiting, waiting''.
When the shrill noise of his cellphone rang.
They both jumped apart so quickly that Geet almost fell. "Your phone" she said. Was that her voice? It sounded almost artificial.
"I will see who it is" Maan said. His own voice was oddly hoarse and deep, and he didn't look at her as he went out of the room.
Geet looked at the cake, forcing her mind to ignore what had almost happened. She had so many complications in her life right now that she didn't really need another one. But she did wonder if it was possible to put this particular genie back in its bottle.
Just a small scene that came to my mind. Comments/criticisms welcome....
Updates:
Page 2
Page 7
Page 10
Page 13
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