"It's just alittle dinner party."
"Uh-huh." Standing, Angad Khanna caught the phone receiver in the crook between his shoulder and neck, holding it in place with his chin as he began to clean up his desk in preparation for leaving the office.
Aliyah's voice had taken on a wheedling tone, which was always a bad sign. Sighing inwardly, he shook his head as his sister rattled on, telling him what she had planned for the meal and so on, all in an effort to convince him to attend. He noticed she wasn't mentioning who eise was to be at this little dinner, but suspected he already knew. Angad had no doubt it would be Ali, her husband Jose, and yet another single female friend she hoped to hook up with her still-single older brother.
"So?"
Angad paused and caught the phone in hand. He'd obviously missed something. "I'm sorry, what was that?"
"So, what time can you get here tomorrow?"
"I won't be coming." Before she could whine, he quickly added, "I can't. I'll be out of the country tomorrow."
"What?" There was a pause, then a suspicious, "Why? Where are you going?"
"Mexico. I'm going on vacation. That's why I called you in the first place. I fly out first thing in the morning for Cancun ." Knowing he'd just set her aback, Angad allowed a smile to tug at his lips as he juggled the phone around to don the suit jacket he'd discarded earlier in the day. "Mexico?"
Ali said after a long pause. "A vacation?" Angad couldn't decide if her bewilderment was amusing or just a sad commentary on his life to date. This was the first vacation he'd taken since starting his psychology practice eight years ago. Actually, he hadn't gone on vacation since starting university. He was a typical workaholic, driven to succeed and willing to put in the hours to do so. It didn't leave much time for a social life. This vacation was long overdue.
"Listen, I have to get going. I'll send you a postcard from Mexico . Bye." Angad hung up before
she could say anything to stop him, then grabbed his briefcase and quickly escaped the office. He wasn't surprised to hear the phone start ringing as he locked the office door, Ali was the persistent sort. Smiling faintly, he ignored it and pocketed his keys as he started down the hall to the elevator.
Part 1
Dr. Angad Khanna was now officially on vacation, and the knowledge made him relax more with every step away from his office. He was actually whistling softly as he boarded the elevator and turned to push the button marked P3. The whistle died,however, and Angad reached instinctively toward the panel, his eyes searching for the hold button to keep the doors open when he realized a woman was hurrying toward the closing doors. He needn't have bothered; she was quick on her feet and managed to slip through just before the doors closed.
Angad let his hand drop away from the panel and stepped politely out of the way so she could select the floor she wanted. He gave her a curious once-over as she moved in front of him, idly wondering where the woman had come from. The hall had been empty when he'd traversed it,
and he hadn't heard a door open or close, but then he'd been distracted with thoughts of his coming vacation. There were several offices on the floor besides his own, and she could be from any of them; but he was sure he'd never seen her before.
Angad had barely glimpsed her face as she'd boarded the elevator, and most of her features were a vague blur in his memory, but her eyes had been an attention-grabbing silver-blue. Unusual and beautiful, they were probably the result of colored contacts, he thought, and immediately lost any interest in her. Angad could appreciate beautiful women, and had no problem with them making the best of their appearance, but when they moved on to this level of artifice to try to attract attention, he tended to be turned off.
Shrugging her out of his thoughts, he relaxed back against the elevator wall, his mind immediately turning to his corning trip. Angad had planned a lot of outings; he'd never been anywhere like Mexico before and wanted to enjoy all there was to do. Along with the usual lounging on the beach, he hoped to get in some parasailing, snorkeling, and maybe go on one of those boat rides where you got to feed the dolphins.
He also hoped So fit in a trip to the Museum Casa Maya, an ecological park with a reproduction of how the Mayans lived centuries ago and walking paths where you could see the local animals.
Then there was the night life. If he had the energy after his active days, Angad might just hit the dance bars like the Coco Bongo or the Bulldog cafe where half-naked people gyrated to deafening music.
The elevator's cheerful ding drew Angad's thoughts from half-naked dancing women to the panel above the doors. P3 was lit up; parking level three. His floor. nodding politely to his companion, he stepped off the elevator and started through the large, nearly empty parking garage. With half-naked women still dancing on the periphery of his mind, it took Angad a minute to notice the sound of footsteps behind him. He almost glanced over his
shoulder to see who it was, then let the matter go. The sound was the hollow tap tap of high heels on concrete; sharp and quick and echoing loudly in the nearly empty space. The brunette was obviously also parked on this floor.
His gaze moved absently over the open space toward where his car should be. but got caught on one of the supporting beams as he passed. The large black PI painted on the concrete beam made him slow in confusion. Parking levels 1 and 2 were reserved for visitors to the various offices
and businesses in the building. He was parked on P3 and had been sure the elevator panel light had read P3 when he'd looked' but it appeared he'd been wrong. Stopping, he started to turn back the way he'd come.
This is the right floor. There is the car ahead.
"Yes, of course," Angad murmured, and continued forward. He strode up to the lone vehicle.
It wasn't until he opened the trunk that the thought broke through his mind that the little red sports car wasn't his. He drove a dark blue BMW. But as quickly as that thought'with its accompanying alarm'claimed him, it blew away like fog under the influence of a breeze.
Relaxing, Angad set his briefcase inside the trunk, climbed in after it, arranged himself in the small space, then pulled the trunk closed.
Kripa'z
"Mmm. Your hair smells good."
"Umm, gee, thanks, Arpit." Kripa Sharma peered around the dark parking lot they were crossing, relieved to see they were alone. "But do you think you could get your hand off my ass?"
"Prithvi."
'"What?" She glanced up into his handsome face with confusion.
"My name is Prithvi," he explained with a grin.
"Oh." She sighed. "Well, Prithvi , can you get your hand off my ass?"
"I thought you liked me." His hand stayed firmly planted on her left butt cheek, squeezing in an altogether-too-friendly manner.
Resisting the urge to club him over the head and drag him into the bushes like the Neanderthal he was, she forced a smile. "I do, but let's wait till we get to your car to'"
"Oh. Yeah. My car," he interrupted. "About that'"
Kripa stopped walking to peer up into his face, her eyes narrowing suspiciously on the discomfort that suddenly flickered across his expression. "What?"
"I don't have a car," Prithvi admitted.
Kripa blinked, her brain slow to accept this news.
Everyone over the age of twenty owned a car in Canada . Well, practically everyone. Okay, perhaps that was an exaggeration, but most single males of dating age had wheels. It was like an unwritten law or something.
Before she could comment, Prithvi added, "I thought you'd have one."
It sounded almost like an accusation, Kripa noted and scowled. In some ways, the women's movement really hadn't done them any favors. There had been a day when he, as the man, would have had the vehicle or taken on the responsibility of finding them a place to be alone without a second thought. Now he was looking displeased, as if she'd let him down somehow by not having a car.
"I have a car," she found herself saying defensively. "But I rode here tonight with my cousin."
"The chick with pink hair?"
"No. That's my friend, Mira. Neev drove," Kripa answered absently as she considered the problem. He had no car and Neev had locked up the Jeep when they'd arrived.
She supposed she could go back into the bar, find Neev and borrow his keys; but really, Kripa didn't want to use his Jeep for'
"Well, that's all right. I don't mind the great outdoors."
Kripa blinked her thoughts away with a start as he grasped her by the hips and drew her against him. She instinctively leaned away, putting some space between their upper bodies, but that did nothing to stop their lower bodies from meshing. It was suddenly clear that the idea of the great out doors really didn't bother Prithvi.
If anything, the hardness pressing against her
suggested that the idea excited him. He was obviously an excitable guy, Kripa decided. She herself didn't see the attraction of the great outdoors, at least not during a
Canadian winter.
"Come on." Releasing her hips, Prithvi grabbed her hand and hurried her to the back of the parking lot. It wasn't until he was dragging her behind the large metal garbage bins in the back corner of the lot that she realized his intentions.
Kripa bit back a sarcastic comment about his romantic nature and decided to just be grateful that it was early winter. While they hadn't had their first snow, it was cold enough that there was no odor from the rotting food in the large metal containers.
"This is good." Prithvi urged her back against the cold metal of a bin and crowded up against her.
Kripa sighed inwardly, wishing she'd not left her coat inside. She was more immune to the cold than the average person, but not completely. The cold metal at her back was leaching heat out of her, forcing her body to work harder to stay warm. Hungry and dehydrated as she was, the
last thing she needed at the moment was for her body to have to work harder.
The sudden sloppy assault of his mouth on hers forced Kripa's thoughts to the matter at hand and convinced her it was time to take control of the situation. Ignoring the probing poke of his tongue at her closed lips, she caught her fingers in the front of his jacket and turned, slamming him up against the bin a little harder than she'd meant to as she traded places with him.
"Whoa," he chuckled, eyes brightening. "A wild woman."
"Like that, do you?" Kripa asked dryly. "Then you're gonna love this."
Releasing his coat, she raked one hand into the hair at the back of his skull and caught him by the short strands there. Jerking his head sideways, she moved her mouth to his neck.
Prithvi murmured with pleasure as she ran her lips lightly along the line of his jugular vein.
Once she'd found the best spot for her purposes, Kripa opened her mouth, breathed in through her nose as her canines slid out to their full, sharp length, then sank them into his neck.
Prithvi released a little gasp and went stiff, his arms tightening around her, but that only lasted for the briefest of moments. He soon began to relax against the cold bin as Kripa sent him the sensations she was experiencing; the satisfaction as blood coursed up through her teeth and straight into her system, the dizzy rush as her system moved eagerly to absorb this offering.
The only description she could have given to explain that initial reaction, was the off-kilter list of a boat when everyone on board rushed to one side of the deck, making it tilt in the water.
Kripa's body had the same reaction as her hungry blood rushed to absorb the new blood, racing from every part of her body toward her head, where her teeth were sucking in what her body so desperately needed. It caused a not-unpleasant head rush. She imagined it was similar to
what people experienced when they took a drug. Only this wasn't a drug, it was life to Kripa.
She heard Prithvi give a small moan of pleasure. It echoed the silent one she was experiencing as the cramping in her body slowly began to ease.
Too slowly, Kripa suddenly realized. Something was wrong.
Keeping her teeth deep in his neck, she began to sift his mind. It didn't take her long to find the problem. Prithvi wasn't the healthy specimen he seemed to be. In fact, very little about him was as it appeared. From his thoughts she learned that the bulge pressing against her lower stomach
was a cucumber he'd shoved down his pants, his broad shoulders were a result of padding under his jacket, and the attractive tan he sported came from a bottle. It was meant to hide the natural pallor caused by'anemia .
Kripa jerked her mouth away with a curse, her teeth quickly sliding back to their resting position as she glared at him. It was instinct alone that made her slip into his thoughts to rearrange his memories. She was so angry at the man'
Kripa jerked her mouth away with a curse, her teeth quickly sliding back to their resting position as she glared at him. It was instinct alone that made her slip into his thoughts to rearrange his memories. She was so angry at the man'
And Mira, too, she decided. After all, it had been at her friend's insistence that she'd brought the fellow out for a quick bite. Knowing her mother would have something lined up for her, Kripa had wanted to wait until reaching her birthday party to feed, but Mira'and cousin Jeena'had worried that her pallor would lead Gayatri Sharma to put her on an intravenous the moment she arrived at the house.
When Prithvi had started to hit on her, Kripa had allowed Mira to persuade her to bring him out for a quick bite. And now she might have a problem. It had taken her several
moments to realize there was something wrong, then a couple more minutes to find the information that he was anemic. She only hoped she hadn't taken too much blood from him in that time.
Finished with his memory, Kripa eyed Prithvi with equal parts irritation and concern.
Despite his bottled tan, the man looked pale, but at least he was still on his feet. Putting her hand to his wrist, she took his pulse and relaxed a little. While a bit accelerated, it was strong. He should be fine by tomorrow morning. Prithvi wouldn't feel well for a while, though, but then, it was lit-tie more than he deserved for running around all padded and cucumbered to snare a girl.
Idiot.
People could be such fools, she thought with irritation. Like children playing dress up and pretending they were older than they really were, adults now ran around padded, corseted, or siliconed to be something they really weren't, or to be what they thought was attractive. And it
got worse all the time. She wondered why they didn't understand that their true selves were good enough, and if they weren't, then the someones they weren't good enough for were really the ones not good enough.
Kripa put the thought in Prithvi's mind that he'd come out for some air because he hadn't felt well. She made sure to instruct him to stay there until he felt better, then to take a taxi home, then had him close his eyes as she completed wiping herself from his memory. Once assured
she'd done the job properly, Kripa left him swaying where he stood and walked back around the bins to the parking lot.
"Krips ?" A figure crossed the dark lot toward her.
"Father Joseph." Eyebrows rising, Kripa changed direction to meet the elderly man. The priest was her boss at the shelter where she worked the night shift. Bars were not usually his sort of hangout. "What are you doing here?"
"Raja said there was a new kid on the streets. He doesn't think the boy's more than twelve or thirteen and is pretty sure he's been eating out of the garbage bins back here. I thought I'd see if I could find him and convince him to come to the shelter."
"Oh." Kripa glanced around the lot. Raja was one of the regulars down at the shelter. He often pointed them toward people who might need their help. If he said there was a new kid on the streets, then there was. Raja was dependable about such things. And Father Joseph was
equally dependable about going out in search of such strays in the hopes of getting to them before they did something desperate or stupid, or got dragged into drugs or prostitution.
"I'll help," Kripa offered. "He's probably around here somewhere. I'"
"No, no. This is your night off," Father Joseph said, then frowned. "Besides, you aren't wearing a coat. What are you doing out here without a coat?"
"Oh." Kripa's gaze slid to the garbage bins as a thump sounded behind them. A quick probe of Prithvi's thoughts told her that he'd thumped his head against the bin as he leaned against it.
Idiot.
She turned back to find Father Joseph peering toward the containers and spoke quickly to distract him. "I forgot something in my cousin's car." It was a bald-faced lie, and Kripa sincerely hoped the man hadn't noticed where exactly she'd come from, but would think she'd been in the little black Mazda parked beside the bins. Not
wanting to lie any more than necessary, she rubbed her arms, and added, "Gosh you're right though, it is cold out here."
"Yes." He peered at her with concern. "You'd best go back inside."
Nodding, Kripa wished him good night and made her escape. She hurried across the parking lot, then around the corner of the bar, only slowing once she stepped inside the loud and crowded bar.
Neev was nowhere in sight, but'thanks to the fuchsia-tinted tips of her ebony hair'
Kripa didn't have any trouble spotting Mira at the bar with Jeena.
"Well, you look'" Mira hesitated as Kripa reached them, then finally finished with, "the same. What happened?"
"Anemic." She spat the word with annoyance.
"But he looked so healthy," Jeena protested.
"Padded shoulders and bottled tan," she said. "And that's not all."
"What else could there be?" Mira asked dryly.
Kripa grimaced. "He had a cucumber down his pants."
Jeena gave a disbelieving giggle, but Mira groaned, and said, "It must have been a seedless English cucumber, the man looked huge."
Kripa gaped. "You looked ?"
"You didn't?" she countered.
Jeena burst out laughing, but Kripa just shook her head and glanced around the bar.
"Where's Neev?"
"Here."
She spun around as his hand settled on her shoulder.
"Did I hear you right? Was your Romeo sporting a cucumber down his pants?" he asked with amusement, giving her shoulder an affectionate squeeze.
Kripa nodded with disgust. "Can you imagine?"
Neev gave a laugh. "Actually, the sad fact is I can. First women padded their bras, now men pad their boxers." He shook his head. "What a world."
Kripa found a reluctant smile tugging at her lips at his expression, then gave in and allowed her irritation to drop away. She wasn't really upset that Prithvi had sported a cucumber; she hadn't been interested in what was in his boxers anyway. Hell, she hadn't even really wanted to take him out for a bite. She was just annoyed at the waste of time and the fact that she'd used up
more energy staying warm out there than the man's weak blood had supplied. She was even hungrier than she'd been before going outside. All the outing had managed to do was whet her appetite.
"How long until we can go to Mom's?" she asked hopefully. Her cousins and Mira had decided to take her out dancing before heading to the birthday party her mother was having for her. Kripa had been pleased with the idea at the time, but that was when she'd only been hungry. Now she was ravenous and eager to get to the party and whatever offering her mother would have on hand. She'd even accept an intravenous at that point, which was saying something. Kripa hated being fed intravenously.
"It's only a little after nine," Mira announced, with a glance at her wrist watch. "Gayatri said we weren't to bring you to the party until ten."
"Hmm." Kripa's mouth twisted with displeasure. "Do any of you know why the party starts so late?"
"Aunt Gayatri said she had to pick up something for you in the city before the party, and couldn't do it until after 9 p.m.," Neev offered. "Then, she has to drive back too, so'" He shrugged. "'no party till ten."
"She must be picking up your gift," Mira guessed.
"I don't think so," Neev said. "She mentioned something about Kripa and feeding. I suspect she's picking up a special dessert or something."
"A special dessert?" Jeena asked with interest. "In the city? After nine?" Her gaze slid to Kripa full of excitement as she suggested, "A Sweet Tooth?"
"It must be," Kripa agreed, grinning at the prospect. She'd inherited her mother's love of sweets and nothing satisfied it like a Sweet Tooth, which was how they re ferred to undiagnosed diabetics who ran around with dangerously high blood sugar levels. It was a rare treat, made rarer by the fact that afterward they always put the thought in the person's mind to call his doctor
and arrange to have a blood test, thus removing one more Sweet Tooth from the menu.
"That could be it," Neev commented. "It would explain Aunt Gayatri's willingness to drive around downtown Toronto . She hates city driving and generally avoids it like the plague."
"If she drove," Mira commented. "She could have had Ravin send one of the company cars out to chauffeur her around."
Neev shook his head at the mention of Kripa's brother, the head of Sharma Enterprises.
"Nope. She was driving herself and not happy about it."
Kripa shifted impatiently, and asked, "So, how long till we can go?"
Neev hesitated. "Well, it is Friday night, and the traffic might be bad, with everyone trying to
escape the city for the weekend," he said thoughtfully. "I'm guessing we could go in another fifteen minutes and not risk being too early."
"How about if we leave now and you drive slowly?" Kripa suggested.
"That boring, are we?" he asked with amusement.
"Not you. This place. It's like a meat market," Kripa wrinkled her nose.
"Okay, brat." Neev ruffled her hair affectionately. He was four years older and more like an older brother than her own brothers were, but then they'd been raised together. "Let's head out. I'll do my best to drive slowly."
"Yeah, right," Jeena said with a snort. "Like that will ever happen."
Kripa smiled as they collected their coats and headed for the exit. Neev was a bit of a speed demon, and she knew Jeena was right. She had no doubt they'd arrive early and
annoy her mother. It was a chance she was willing to take. Kripa had forgotten all about Father Joseph when she'd suggested leaving, but there was no sign of him as they walked to Neev's Jeep. He'd either given up, or taken his search elsewhere.
Her next thought was for Prithvi, and Kripa glanced toward the bins as Neev drove by them, her gaze searching the shadows for his seated figure, but there was no sign of him either. He'd left, too. She was a bit surprised at his quick recovery, but then shrugged the matter aside.
He wasn't lying unconscious in the middle of the parking lot, so had obviously managed to find a taxi home.
Traffic wasn't bad after all. It was late enough that they'd missed the worst of it and made good
time getting to her mother's home on the outskirts of Toronto. Too good.
"We're half an hour early," Jeena said from the backseat as Neev parked the Jeep behind Gayatri's little red sports car.
"Yeah." He glanced at the house and shrugged. "She'll be okay with it."
Jeen asnorted. "You mean she'll be okay with it as soon as you give her your charming -grin. You always could get around Aunt Gayatri."
"Why do you think I liked hanging out with Neev when we were younger?" Kripa asked with amusement.
"Oh. I see!" Neev laughed as they got out of the vehicle. "So the truth is out. You only like me for my way with your mother."
"Well, you didn't actually think it was that I liked hanging out with you , did you?" Kripa teased, as he walked around to her side.
"Brat." He gave her hair a tug as he joined her.
"Isn't that your brother Ravin's car?" Mira asked as she climbed out from behind the front passenger seat and slammed the Jeep door closed.
Kripa glanced toward the dark Mercedes and nodded. "Looks like it."
"I wonder if anyone else is here." Jeena murmured.
Kripa shrugged. "I don't see any other cars. But I suppose Ravin could have arranged for a
couple of the company cars to pick up and drop off people."
"If he did, I doubt anyone has arrived yet," Mira said, as they started toward the front door.
"You know it isn't fashionable to show up to these things on time. Only unfashionable geeks arrive on time."
"I guess that makes us unfashionable geeks," Kripa commented.
"Nah. We're just trendsetters," Neev announced, and they all chuckled.
Ravin opened the front door as they approached. "I thought I heard a car."
"Ravin, du-ude!" Neev greeted loudly, then immediately stepped up to give him a hug that had the older man stiffening in surprise. "How's it hanging, dude?"
Kripa bit her lip to keep from laughing and glanced toward Jeena and Mira, then quickly away as she saw that they were also having difficulty controlling their expressions at the sudden change in Neev. He'd gone from being just your average guy to a space cadet, in
the passing of a heartbeat.
"Yes' Well' Neev. Hello." Ravin managed to disengage himself from his exuberant younger cousin. As usual, he looked uncomfortable and not entirely sure how to handle the younger man. It was why Neev acted that way, he knew that both her older brothers'at over four hundred and six hundred'tended to look down on him as a young pup, and it never ceased to annoy him. Being thought of as little more than a child at over two hundred years old could be
terribly annoying, and so he acted like an ass around them. It never failed to make the older men uncomfortable and'Kripa suspected'gave Neev an advantage. Her brothers were forever underestimating Neev because of their prejudices. Suffering the same prejudice herself, Kripa could sympathize with Neev. She also never
failed to enjoy watching her older brothers squirm with discomfort.
"So, where's the party, dude?" Neev asked brightly.
"So, where's the party, dude?" Neev asked brightly.
"It has not started yet," Ravin said. "You're the first to arrive."
"No dude, you were the first to arrive," Neev corrected him cheerfully, then confided, "You don't know how relieved that makes me. 'Cause if we'd been first, Mira said we would have been unfashionable geeks. But we weren't. You were."
Kripa coughed to cover the snort of laughter that managed to escape her as her brother recognized that he'd just been called an unfashionable geek. When she regained control of herself it was to find Ravin standing stiff and straight and appearing a tad annoyed. She took pity on him, and asked, "So, where's Mom? And are we allowed to enter, or are we to wait out here for another fifteen minutes?"
"Oh, no. Come in." Ravin stepped quickly to the side. "I just got here myself, and Mother went up to change for the party after letting me in. She should be down in a few minutes. Maybe you should wait in the games room until she comes down. She might not want you to see the decorations until everyone's here."
"Okay," Kripa said agreeably, stepping past him into the entry.
"Want to play a game of pool, dude?" Neev asked cheerfully as he followed Kripa into the house.
"Oh' er' No. Thank you, Neev, I have to watch for early arrivals until Mother is ready."
Ravin backed away along the hall as he spoke. "I'll tell her you're here."
"He loves me," Neev said with amusement, as Ravin disappeared from the hall, then he opened his arms to shepherd them toward the closed door on the right of the hall. "Come along. Let's go play. Anyone up for a game of pool?"
"I'll play," Mira said, then added, "Krip's, you have a run in your stockings."
"What?" Kripa paused and peered down at her legs.
"Back right," Mira said, and she twisted to look at the back of her right leg.
"I must have got it caught on something on the garbage bin," Kripa muttered with disgust as she spotted the long, wide ladder up the back of her right calf.
"Garbage bin?" Neev echoed with interest.
"Don't ask," she said dryly, then made an irritated and straightened. "I'll have to go change my stockings before the party starts. Fortunately, Mom insisted I leave spare clothes here in my old room when I moved out. I should have a couple pairs of stockings. You guys go ahead and play."
"Hurry back," Neev called, as she jogged lightly up the stairs.
Kripa merely waved over her shoulder as she reached the landing and started along the hall toward her bedroom, but she was thinking it was good advice. Gayatri Sharma wasn't going to be pleased that they'd arrived early, but Neev would quickly cajole her out of any irritation she might initially be feeling. For that reason alone, it would be better to be with Neev and the others when she met up with her mother.
"Coward," Kripa berated herself. She was over two hundred years old and well past the age where she should worry about upsetting her mother.
"Yeah right," Kripa muttered, acknowledging that she would probably still worry about it when she was six hundred. All she had to do was look at her brothers to know that. They were independent, self-sufficient and' well' just plain old and still worried about pleasing or displeasing Gayatri's Sharma.
"It must be a family thing," she decided as she opened the door to the room that had been hers until recently, and where she still occasionally slept when she stayed too late to make it home before sunrise. Kripa started into the room, but her steps halted, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of the man on the bed.
"Oh, sorry, wrong room," she muttered, and drew the door closed again.
Kripa then simply stood in the hall staring blankly around as she realized she hadn't accidentally entered the wrong room. This was her old bedroom. She'd spent several decades sleeping there and knew her own room when she saw it. She just didn't know why there was a man in it. Or, more importantly, why he was tied spread-eagled on the bed.
Kripa considered the matter for a moment. Her mother would not have taken in a boarder, and if she had, she certainly wouldn't have done so without mentioning it to her children. Nor would she have put him in Kripa's old room, a room she still used on those rare occasions she stayed. Besides, the fact that he was tied down on the bed rather belied the possibility of his being awilling guest.
As did the bow around his neck, Kripa thought as she recalled the cheery red splotch of color that had been half-crushed by his chin as he'd struggled to look at her. It was the bow that finally had her relaxing as she realized he must be the special surprise her mother had driven into the city for. The Sweet Tooth Jeenahad suggested. Though, Kripa thought, the man in her bed had looked healthy enough, but then, you couldn't always tell until you got close enough to smell the sweetness an untreated diabetic exuded.
In effect, the fellow was a walking birthday cake. And a yummy-looking one at that, she decided, recalling his dark good looks. His eyes had been piercing and intelligent, his nose straight, his chin strong' and his body had been rather nice, too. He'd appeared long and lean and muscular, stretched out on the bed.
Of course, after her experience with Prithvi, Kripa was aware there might be some paddingunder the jacket he wore. She hadn't looked for cucumbers, but the man hadn't been sporting a tan, bottled or otherwise, yet hadn't looked anemic, but then her mother wasn't likely to make the mistake Kripa had earlier. Gayatri would have made sure he was exactly what she wanted to give her daughter, and Kripa was thinking that Jeena was probably right, and he was an untreated diabetic. Nothing else made much sense. Her mother would hardly drive all the way into town for just a standard healthy individual when she could have ordered a pizza and handed Kripa the delivery boy, which is what she usually did.
So, he was a sweet to eat, she reasoned, and felt hunger gnaw at her stomach. Kripa wouldn't have minded a nibble right then. Just a little taste to tide her over until her mother actually gave him to her. She quickly killed that thought. Even Neev wouldn't be able to cajole her mother out of her bad mood if Kripa pulled a stunt like that. So, walking back in there and biting him was out, but she still needed to fetch fresh stockings.
While Kripa knew she should probably just return to the games room without them, it seemed to her that' as the surprise was already spoiled'it was silly to run around in ruined stockings all night. She was here, and it would only take a moment to grab a fresh pair from those she'd left behind for just such an emergency.
*****
Angad stared at the closed door. He couldn't believe that someone had just opened it, paused' obviously startled at the sight of him'then apologized and closed the door while he'd just lain there like an idiot, too startled to say or do anything. Not that he'd had much of a chance to react, but still'
The muscles in his neck began to ache with the strain of keeping his head raised to peer at the door. Heaving a sigh of defeat, Angad let it drop back onto the pillow and began to mutter under his breath about his own stupidity.
It had come to his attention tonight that he was a complete idiot. Angad had never thought of himself as an idiot. In fact, he'd always considered himself somewhat intelligent, but that was before he'd climbed into the trunk of a strange car and locked himself inside for no good purpose that he could think of.
"Definitely an idiotic move," Angad announced, but then perhaps insane was a better description.
Stupid would have been accidentally locking himself in a trunk. Climbing in and calmly pulling it closed was more along the lines of inexplicable insanity. And he was starting to talk to himself, he pointed out. Yes, it would appear he'd lost his grip on sanity. He couldn't help wondering exactly when he'd lost his mind, and how.
Perhaps insanity was contagious, he pondered. Perhaps he'd caught it from one of his clients. Not that Angad had any clients he'd have diagnosed as insane. He dealt mostly with phobias in his practice, though he treated a few patients with other, more long-term, difficulties. He supposed he could have had the seed all along, and tonight it had simply sprouted into full-blown madness.
That was a thought. Perhaps insanity ran in the family. He should check with his mother on that, find out whether they had a madman or two in the family history.
It wasn't just the climbing into the trunk that bothered Angad, that had only been the first of his mad actions tonight, and one he'd regretted as soon as the trunk lock had clicked into place. He'd lain in the dark, cramped space, calling himself all kinds of a fool for at least half an hour as the car had driven to this house. Then the car had stopped, the trunk had opened and what had he done? Had he leapt out, apologized for his unnatural behavior, and gone home? No. He'd stood and waited as the pretty brunette from the elevator had gotten out of the car to join him, then had followed her'docile as you please'into this huge house and up to this room.
Angad had been as cheerful and trusting as a five-year-old as he'd'without even being asked' climbed onto the bed and splayed himself for her to tie down. Angad had even returned her smile when she'd patted his cheek and announced, "My daughter is going to love you. You are my best birthday gift ever."
After she'd left the room, he'd lain there, his mind blank for several moments before the situation he'd got himself into had begun to sink in. Angad had spent the time since then in bewildered contemplation of what had happened. His own behavior'never mind the woman's' didn't make any sense. It was as if he'd temporarily lost his mind. Or control of it. Unable to solve the quandary, he'd turned his thoughts to more immediate concerns, such as what was going to happen now that he was here?
"My daughter is going to love you. You are my best birthday gift ever ." These words'along with the fact that Angad was presently spread-eagled on a bed'had first made him fear he was some sort of sexual gift. A sex slave, perhaps. That possibility had immediately had him imagining being ravished by some huge, homely creature with a bad complexion and facial hair.
For surely only someone terribly unattractive would need a man kidnapped and tied to her bed to get sex in today's sexually free climate?
Just as Angad had started to hyperventilate at the imagined horror, he'd given himself a mental slap. The woman'the mother'couldn't be more than twenty-five or thirty years old at most.
Surely no daughter of hers would be old enough to want a sex slave? Or even to know what to do with one, Besides, why would anyone want him for a sex slave anyway, he'd asked himself.
Angad had a healthy self-esteem, and knew he was attractive, but he wasn't a rock star or GQ model gorgeous. He was a psychologist who dressed in conservative suits, had a conservative haircut, and lived a conservative life based around work, his family, and little else. Well, his work, his family, and attempting to escape all the blind dates his sisters, aunts, and mother wouldhave set him up on, he corrected himself wryly.
Part 4
Angad had a healthy self-esteem, and knew he was attractive, but he wasn't a rock star or GQ model gorgeous. He was a psychologist who dressed in conservative suits, had a conservative haircut, and lived a conservative life based around work, his family, and little else. Well, his work, his family, and attempting to escape all the blind dates his sisters, aunts, and mother would
have set him up on, he corrected himself wryly.
Angad's thoughts were disturbed when the bedroom door opened again. Stiffening, he jerked his head up to peer toward the door and saw that it was the woman from a moment ago. He eyed her with wary interest. Except for her long black brown hair, she looked very like the brunette who had brought him here. She was beautiful, with full lips, an oval face, a straight nose, and the same silver-blue eyes as her brunette counterpart. Obviously, they bought their contacts at the same place.
No, Angad decided. The eyes weren't exactly the same. They were the same color and shape, but the brunette's eyes had held a sadness and wisdom that had belied the youth of her skin and features. This woman was lacking that. The black brown's eyes were clear, untouched by regret or true heartache. It made her seem younger.
The black-brown was obviously a relative of the brunette though, Angad thought as he watched her walk to the dresser against the wall adjacent to the bed and open a drawer. Probably her sister, he guessed. He let his eyes run over the short, formfitting black dress she wore, then to her shapely legs, and the thought crossed his mind that it was almost a shame that she was too old to be the brunette's daughter. He wouldn't have minded being her gift-Rolling his eyes at his own wayward thoughts, Angad watched her close the dresser and waited expectantly for her to turn her attention to him, but she didn't. Much to his amazement, she merely walked back to the door, obviously intending to exit the room without so much as a by-your-leave. Angad was so shocked that his mouth opened and closed twice before he managed to get out a simple, "Excuse me."
The black-brow paused at the door and turned to peer at him curiously.
Angad forced a stiff smile and asked, "Do you think you could maybe untie me?"
"Untie you?" Appearing surprised by the request, she moved to the bedside to peer down at him.
"Yes, please," he said firmly, noting the way her gaze slid over his hands. Angad knew his wrists were red and abraded from tugging at his bindings. Their state seemed to confuse and distress her.
"Why didn't Mother calm you? She shouldn't have left you like this. Why'" She paused and blinked, then understanding filled her face. "Oh, of course. Ravin's arrival must have interrupted her before she could properly settle you. She probably meant to come back and finish with you after, but forgot."
Angad didn't have a clue what she was talking about, except that she seemed to think her mother had brought him here and he was positive she was wrong. "The woman who brought me here was too young to be your mother. She looked like you, but had dark hair. Your sister maybe?" he guessed.
For some reason his words made her smile. "I don't have a sister. The woman you're describing is my mother. She's older than she looks."
Angad accepted this with some incredulity, then his eyes widened at the ramifications of what she was saying. "Then, I'myour birthday gift?"
She nodded slowly, then tilted her head, and said, "That's an odd smile. What are you thinking?"
Angad was thinking he was the luckiest son of a b*tch alive as his mind
automatically readjusted his earlier imaginings of a large, ugly woman stripping and climbing on top of him. to this woman doing so. He allowed himself to enjoy the fantasy for a moment, but then realized that his body was enjoying it way too much, a noticeable bulge was growing in his pants. He gave his head a shake. As delightful as a night as this woman's sex slave might be, he had plans'a trip full of sandy beaches, palm trees, and half-naked women gyrating on a dance floor. And it was already paid for.
Now' if after his trip this woman wanted to go on a date in the normal way, then tie him to a bed and have her way with him' Well, Angad liked to consider himself an obliging sort. Besides, in this case, he thought being a sex slave might not be so bad. Realizing his thoughts were wandering into areas better left alone for now, Angad gave himself a mental kick and forced a stern look to his face. "Kidnapping is illegal."
Her eyebrows rose. "Did Mom kidnap you?"
"Not exactly," he admitted, recalling how he'd climbed into the trunk under his own impetus.
Kidnapping generally required being forcibly taken away. Angad supposed he could have lied; however, he was a poor liar. "But I don't want to be here, and really I don't have any idea why I climbed into the trunk of your mother's car. It seemed the most natural thing to do at the time, but I've never'"'
Angad's voice trailed away as he realized that the black-brown wanst lisening to him. At least she didn't appear to be. She was staring at his head with concentration and a deepening frown. She was also moving closer to the bed, though he suspected it was a subconscious action. She seemed wholly concentrated on his hair, but then she shook her head with apparent frustration, and muttered, "I can't read your mind."
"You can't read my mind?" Angad echoed slowly.
She shook her head.
"I see' and' er' is that a problem?" he queried. "I mean, can you usually read people's minds?"
She nodded, but it was an absent action, her thoughts were obviously elsewhere.
Angad tried to ignore the disappointment suddenly pinching at him as he acknowledged that the woman was mad, or at least delusional if she thought she could read minds. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. The mother couldn't exactly be normal, or she wouldn't allow strange men to climb into her trunk'for she'd been behind him and had to have seen him climb in. Anyone else would have run screaming for building security instead of taking him home with her.
It seemed madness was running rampant tonight. The first example had been his behavior, then the brunette's, and now the black-brown thought she could read minds. It made him wonder if there wasn't some sort of citywide madness occurring. Perhaps men all around Toronto were climbing into trunks and letting themselves be tied to beds. Perhaps it was some sort of drug released into the city's water reservoir; a terrorist plot to incapacitate the men in Canada.
On the other hand, perhaps this was all just a weird dream, and he was really still at his desk at work, head down and sound asleep. Angad decided that was the most likely possibility. It provided a most satisfactory explanation of his own inexplicable behavior in getting himself here. Of course, none of that really mattered. Asleep or awake, mad or not, he was here, and even if it was
a dream, he wanted to get himself home. He had a flight to catch.
"Listen, if you could just untie me, I promise I'll forget all about this. I won't bring in the authorities or anything."
"The authorities?" the black-brown echoed. "You mean like the police?" She seemed startled at the prospect, as if it hadn't occurred to her.
"Well, yeah," Angad said with a frown. "Okay, so I came here apparently willingly enough," he admitted reluctantly. "But now I want to go home, and if you don't untie me, it's forcible confinement, and that's a criminal offense."
Kripa began to gnaw on her lower lip. She'd tried to slip into the man's thoughts to soothe and control him as she'd done earlier with Prithvi, as her mother should have done before leaving him, but she couldn't get into his thoughts. It was as if there were an impenetrable wall around his mind, and while she'd heard of this, she'd never run across it herself. Kripa had never met a mortal she couldn't read and control. Though she had run across individuals she found it difficult to read and control. Usually, that difficulty eased or disappeared altogether once she was feeding on them.
She tilted her head and eyed her gift, debating whether to try feeding off him to make it easier to slip into his thoughts and soothe him. The only problem was that if she couldn't slip into his thoughts even a little, Kripa wouldn't be able to keep him from experiencing the pain when her teeth first sank into his neck. Unless'
Mira had once told her about coming up against a similar situation. She'd said she'd kissed and caressed the man, relaxing him, and had managed to slip into his thoughts the moment her teeth sank into him.
Kripa considered the matter briefly. She'd never seduced anyone before. Born and raised in Georgian England, her life had been rather sheltered, and while society had grown more promiscuous the last fifty years or so, Kripa's life hadn't. Her parents were old, with old values and beliefs that were slow to change and modernize. While her mother might have allowed her more freedom, her father would never have bent to society.
Still, she simply couldn't leave the man lying there distressed, Kripa decided. Besides, she wouldn't mind a little preview of her birthday dinner, rather like a lick of the icing off a cake before it was served. Okay, she'd like a little more than the equivalent of a lick, but just a quick bite, just enough to ease her hunger, she assured herself.
Yeah right, Kripa thought dryly. This man looked yummy enough that she'd be tempted to suck him dry, a temptation she couldn't recall having in several decades.
"The rope is really tight."
Startled out of her thoughts by his complaint, Kripa glanced again toward the burns at his wrists and felt her uncertainty melt away. She'd been taught that it was bad form to play with your food or allow it to suffer needlessly. And this man was suffering. It was her duty to get into his thoughts and soothe him. It was hardly her fault that she couldn't do so the normal way and was going to have to try more extreme measures.
Mind made up and conscience appeased, Kripa settled on the side of the bed. "You shouldn't struggle, and you shouldn't worry. I hate to see you distressed this way."
He glared at her, as if resenting that she knew he was upset. Or perhaps he was simply angry that she wasn't untying him as requested.
"Let's get this off you," she suggested, and set the stockings she'd collected in her lap so that she could work at the bow around his neck. He sighed as it was removed, relaxing on the bed a bit, and Kripa decided to remove his tie as well.
"There, isn't that better?" she asked, sliding the silk cloth from around his neck.
The man started to nod, then caught himself and scowled instead as she undid the top three buttons of his shirt. "It would be better still if you untied me."
Kripa smiled with amusement at the way he was struggling with himself, then tried to distract him by running her fingers lightly over the bit of chest she'd revealed. Much to her satisfaction, a little shiver went through him as her long nails scraped gently across his naked skin. This seduction business was turning out to be easier than she'd feared. Or perhaps she was just a natural, Kripa thought, and wondered if she should be worried over the possibility.
"'Untie me." He was trying to be firm, but it was obvious his heart was no longer wholly behind the desire to be free.
Smiling knowingly, Kripa scraped her fingers lightly down to run along the cloth just above his belt. The provocative action sent his stomach muscles galloping, and his breath came out on a little hiss of air.
"What the hell," he breathed. "There are worse things than being a sex slave."
Kripa blinked in surprise at his comment and decided she'd relaxed him enough. "What's your name?"
"Angad." He cleared his throat, and said more firmly, 'Dr. Angad Khanna."
"Doctor huh?" She raised one hand to run it lightly up his chest again, noting the way his eyes immediately dropped from her face to follow the action. "Well,Doctor ' You're a very handsome man."
She moved her hand to his hair, running it lightly through the fine, dark strands and marveling at how soft it was. Her gaze slid to his deep dark brown eyes and the firm contours of his lips as she considered her next move. He was an attractive man. In her time, she'd seen men who were more handsome, but there was something about this one that appealed to her. Her gaze slid to the
furrows on his forehead, and her fingers followed, running lightly over the lines to smooth them away.
"Would you mind terribly if I kissed you?" she asked softly.
Dr. Angad Khanna didn't answer, he simply stared at her with eyes that had darkened with interest as she allowed her finger to drift to his lips and run lightly across the soft contours. When his mouth suddenly opened to suck her finger into his warm heat, she took that as permission, but Kripa sat still, her eyes finding and holding his with fascination as she noted the fires smoldering to life there. Then he sucked her finger farther into his mouth, his tongue running along the side of her finger as he did, and Kripa gave a startled little gasp of surprise.
Over two hundred years old, and I never realized the finger could be an erogenous zone, Kripa thought faintly, as the fire smoldering in his eyes now began to grow inside her, but much farther south.
Angad Khanna was a dangerously distracting man, and she decided it might be best to regain control of the situation. With that intention, Kripa slowly withdrew her finger from his mouth, then leaned forward to rub her cheek briefly against his so that she could inhaie the smell of him. The action had been an instinctive one, a predator testing her prey's scent. His was a spicy, dusky aroma that she quite liked. Kripa smiled faintly, then brushed her lips against his cheek before trailing them across to his 'ps. She pressed them there a little more firmly and rubbed them gently back and forth.
Angad Khanna's lips appeared firm and hard, but they felt soft. Kripa continued simply to rub her lips gently over his, enjoying the erotic caress, until he raised his own head in an effort to deepen the kiss. When she felt his tongue slip out to run lightly along the crease where her lips met, she let them slip open. Her eyes widened with surprise at the sensations that assailed her as he slipped inside.
Kripa had certainly been kissed over the last two hundred years'many times, countless times even if she were to be honest. Some kisses had been welcomed and some stolen, some enjoyed and some not, but this kiss'
His tongue was warm, wet, and firm as it rasped across hers. He tasted of mint and coffee and something else she couldn't immediately identify, then Kripa simply couldn't be bothered to.
She let her eyes drift closed and lost herself in the sensations overwhelming her.What had started on her part as an effort to seduce Angad Khanna ended with her being seduced. Kripa found herself lost in the kiss as his tongue filled her, thrusting and sweeping through her mouth with a demand that made her shudder. For a moment her purpose was completely forgotten. She found herself shifting her position, sliding her legs onto the bed so that she lay against him, her legs tangling with his even as her fingers tangled and caught in his hair.
She sensed his tugging at his restraints, but was really only half-aware of it until he turned his head away to break the kiss, and growled, "Untie me. I want to touch you."
Kripa was tempted, but ignored the request and instead concentrated on kissing a trail down his cheek, her body moving down his. He was obviously taller than she. By the time her lips reached his throat, their pelvises were even, and he immediately rotated his hips, urging himself against her, increasing the excitement for both of them. His groan was both frustrated and excited as her lips moved along his throat and he shifted restlessly beneath her until she found the jugular and let her teeth out to sink deep into his skin and the vein it covered.
Angad went stiff with shock, then just as quickly relaxed with a prolonged groan as Kripa began to feed, and the pleasure exploded inside her mind, then transmitted out to him. This was a wholly different experience than Prithvi had been. Normally, she didn't find feeding an erotic experience, but then normally Kripa didn't have to seduce her host. She simply took control of his mind and went to it. This time was different. She was excited, he was excited, and the
blood pouring into her body was a string that connected their excitement, bouncing it between them and somehow increasing it as his mind opened to her. But Kripa wasn't in control this time, she wasn't just sending out her own thoughts, she was receiving his.
It was like a wonderful kaleidoscope of color. Emotions and thoughts filled her mind in wave after overwhelming wave. Passion, desire, intelligence, kindness, honor, courage' Kripa had a brief window into his soul, and in those few moments learned more about him than she could have in a hundred conversations. There were no lies, half-truths, or prevarications to try to impress her. There was just him, then all of that was pushed aside by an avalanche of desire.
Kripa forgot all about her intentions to soothe him, she forgot everything but the hunger that was raging in her body: both the old need for blood and the new need for the pleasure he was giving her. In that moment, with their bodies entwined, both of them moaning, arching, and writhing against each other, only this man seemed able to satisfy her hunger, and Kripa might very well have lost herself to the point of draining him dry had Neev's voice not caught her ear and distracted her.
"I don't see why you're so upset. She just came up to get new stockings. She'" His voice had started out muffled by the door, but had grown in volume as the door opened, then died abruptly, and a brief silence followed. Very brief.
"Kripa Sharma!"
Kripa went still, her eyes shooting open as she recognized her mother's voice.
Vasudha
Avatar and Signatures Shop
