*~PART 2~*
RECAP:
That strange urge to clench her thigh muscles hit her again and she had to force herself to step out from under the hands now resting on her shoulders. When had she ever wanted to prolong a man's touch? She could not remember a single instance. Men were business associates or props for photo shoots, nothing more. Ad the way this man was affecting her seemed a bit off balance.....and scary.....dangerous.
She turned to face the man upsetting her equilibrium and got her second glimpse of Armaan Hamilton standing right behind her………
************************
Gray eyes watched her with heated interest tempered by a humor that surprised her. The man made her go weak in the knees and considering she spent her time with some of the most beautiful males the earth had to offer on a regular basis, that realization was not an altogether welcome one.
Yes, his patrician features and dark, hair were to-die-for gorgeous, but it was more than that. And it was the more that had her taking another step backward in the awkward silence that had fallen after his last statement.
"It is not myself I am concerned about." She felt a shiver run down as she recalled his words. She had refused his dinner invitation. Oh dear could she ever forget that? And here she was analyzing her feelings…no her attraction towards him? She was actually checking out Armaan Hamilton??
He smiled, even white teeth flashing briefly. "My concern is for this most lovely young woman whose beauty will not be enhanced by sunburn I think."
"We've got Riddhima slathered in fifty factor sunscreen," the photographer said dismissively.
Armaan's eyes narrowed. "I see that you are in long sleeves and wearing a hat. Very sensible…while she pretends to talk on the phone wearing a little more than what do you call this….a swimsuit??"
"She's a model."
Which said it all. Her body was a tool. To sell products for them and to achieve her dreams for Riddhima. It was the way it was and she didn't even mind.
But apparently Armaan did. She could only be grateful she was not the recipient of that particular look. The photographer tugged at his collar and looked beseechingly at the ad campaign manager who in turn was looking at his boss as if the tycoon had sprouted a couple of horns.
"She is a beautiful woman whom you would do better to care for than to mistreat in such a manner if indeed it is her image we wish to use to encourage customers to use our products." He turned to her, the chilled visage warming.
"Though I am still unsure of what a half clad woman and better cell phone coverage have in common. Who designed this ad for the company?? Its ridiculous."
"You yourself had approved of the idea Sir." The manager came forward bravely giving Riddhima curious look. Riddhima felt a little more then embarrassed. Why in the world was Armaan arguing on her behalf? And that too when she had no qualms shooting the ad? What would people think of her? It would immediately lead to speculations between her and Armaan Hamilton. Something she did not want should happen. Not in this life definitely. She could almost see herself on the entertainment page of tomorrow's news daily.
"Armaan Hamilton's new interest…upcoming model."
Feeling a little more then disgusted she returned her attention to the ongoing rift. It was time she intervened and saved her ad manager.
"But its ridiculous." She heard Armaan say.
"I approved of this idea? Model barely clad selling our cell phones with a beach background?" she saw Armaan frown and cleared her throat consciously.
"Sir your father had given us a green signal." The manager added.
Immediately Riddhima noticed the frown turn into something more. Fascinated she saw his features turn taut and somehow abstractly stubborn.
"No wonder then…" he nodded as if suddenly understanding more then what he seemed to grasp.
"but still…" he gazed at her again….giving her an appraising look from head to toe and spoke.
"It seems so lame. Advertising a swimsuit by showing of her body…"
She laughed, charmed by his blatant bemusement. "My body has been used to sell car batteries. I'm not really sure what the connection is, but I'm personally grateful advertisers seem to think there's a correlation. And honestly…I've done photo shoots in the desert during the summer. This isn't any worse. Believe me."
Armaan cocked his head. "You said your body? "
She shrugged.
"Surely you sell the products."
"My image, which is essentially my body."
He shook his head decisively. "No. There are thousands of truly beautiful women who could be standing where you are right now; it is the spirit inside you that shines through when you smile as you were doing when I arrived. It is you that my advertising executives hired…not a mere body."
He was right. Modeling was so much more than displaying body parts to their best advantage, but few people saw it that way. And regardless, her body was still the main tool for her trade .Which sounded kind of bad when she thought of it and didn't open her mouth to say so.
She simply smiled and said, "Thank you."
"The smile…it is real? Or can you turn it on for others as well as the camera?"
The question was like a smack between the eyes. It was too much like the question that had been plaguing her lately. Was she a plastic person, or real? Sometimes she felt like a wind-up toy that operated only for the photographer's pull on her string. She'd always worked hard to be in charge of her career, but was it really controlling her?
"When was the last time you did something for the sake of enjoyment alone?" he asked although she had not answered his first question yet.
"I…" She didn't remember. Maybe if her mom were here, she could ask her.
While she was Riddhima's biggest supporter for her career, her mom still pushed Riddhima to relax occasionally, reminding her that life wasn't all about modeling. But she still couldn't think of a recent time when it hadn't been.
She stood there, feeling exposed and vulnerable. There was only one safe place of retreat. Behind the plastic smile.
She flashed it. "My career is all the fun I need, Mr Hamilton. Now, if you gentlemen don't mind, I'd like a chance to get a drink before we resume shooting."
He reached out and caught her arm before she walked away. "Let me buy you a fruit juice. And my name is Armaan. Use it."
He dismissed the other two men with a jerk of his head and the ad campaign manager and photographer melted away.
"You didn't ask me to address you as Armaan yesterday. It was something else. Aditya or something like that." She retorted as he turned to face him. She was determined not to allow this man to interfere with her internal state of mind.
"It was merely to protect my identity. I would have given you my real name if you had joined me for dinner tonight." He countered grinning.
"But I guess you were a step ahead of me." he added taking a step forward.
Riddhima tried to have him step backwards by glaring at him.
"Once I recognized you…there was no reason for me to trust you Mr Hamilton. Certainly no need to join you for dinner either. I am sure you have many more interesting people whom you can share your table with." She retorted icily.
"Firstly call me Armaan." He cut in between with a lazy drawl. And then as Riddhima had expected him to back off seeing she was not interested he smiled. Oh that full smile…..it certainly did something to her insides.
"Is that an order?" she asked, her internal hackles rising as she once again faced him.
While her body might be her tool for her trade, it was not a plaything and if he thought she'd fit the role of a playboy's plaything in her off-hours, he was very much mistaken.
"Does it need to be?" he countered, ignoring the frost in her voice.
"That depends. Do your other employees call you by your first name?"
"Some do. Some don't. I prefer that you do. And technically, you are not my employee, but a private contractor hired for a specific purpose. Quite outside my jurisdiction."
"So outside of your jurisdiction that you called a break in the middle of a successful shoot and have dismissed the two men I have to do answer to in order to be alone with me?"
He shrugged.
"I don't think anything in any of your companies is truly outside your jurisdiction, Armaan…except me." There was no warmth in the smile that curved her lips then. "I'm a model, not an escort."
Undaunted, he gave her a genuine grin, his gray eyes filled with amusement and unalloyed approval. "You are a beautiful woman I wish to get to know. What is the harm in that?"
"You tell me."
"You are very prickly, are you not?"
"I've learned to be."
"Have a glass of fruit juice with me. Decide if you like my company enough to share dinner tonight."
She opened her mouth to deny him, but he put a finger to her lips.
"A moment of your time only. Please."
This was not a man who said that particular word very often. She was certain of it.
She shut her mouth.
He left his hand where it was. "Your decision will in no way impact your role as cover model for this campaign."
She stared at him, trying to read his sincerity. All the articles she'd read about him touted him as an honest man. And fair. She chose to believe.
She couldn't talk with his finger pressed against her lips, however. She swallowed and nodded with a short jerk of her head.
He smiled and let his hand drop. "Good."
The photo shoot was being done on a roped off area of the beach and he led her to a small caf less than twenty yards from it. They took a table for two outside and he called the waiter with an arrogant flick of his hand.
The young man came over, his eyes widened as if in recognition. She supposed the billionaire was something of a celebrity in his home country…like Hollywood actors back home. But Armaan Hamilton was a lot better looking. Armaan ordered them both a glass of fruit juice before she could think better of it and request water. The extra electrolytes wouldn't hurt and she could make up for it by eating less at dinner, she thought with a mental shrug, unconsciously counting the calories.
"Have you always wanted to be a model?" he asked after the waiter left.
"Yes. How about you? Have you always wanted to be a business tycoon?"
He laughed, the sound running along her nerve endings like a hyper charged current.
"I was born to it, more or less. My father was a businessman and his father before him. You know the story."
"But you've taken the family holdings to unprecedented heights."
It was his turn to look wary. "Reading the gossip rags or business dailies?"
"Business weeklies actually. My mother's a financial consultant and she raised me on bedtime stories where the Big Bad Wolf was a guy selling junk bonds and Prince Charming was a good investment partner."
Now, his gaze turned speculative. "I am surprised you chose the career you did then."
"Why? I invested in a personal asset I could enhance at will…my looks. I have worked my tail off to make them pay dividends and they have. That's a better investment than many business ventures over which I would have less control regarding the principle component my success would depend on."
"Have the dividends been worth the hard work?" he asked, his tone laced with reluctant respect.
"You tell me. Have your sacrifices been worth the business success?"
"Yes. What is a twenty-hour workday compared to my family's security?"
She liked that he thought in terms of family commitment. She only had her mom, but they were devoted to each other. Family came first. She sipped at her juice. "Thankfully, since graduating from university two years ago, I don't have to work twenty-hour days any longer."
"You went to university?"
"That surprises you?"
"Considering your dedication to your career, yes. The time and cost of your education would have taken a toll on what is clearly your main goal in life."
"I saw it that way, but Mom didn't. She has always supported my desire to be a model, but no model's career lasts forever and she maintained the better education I had, the better I would be at managing my career."
"Is that not what an agent is for?"
"A model who leaves her career to others is just looking for a trap door in the floor to fall through to obscurity."
"That sounds like a well-rehearsed rule."
"It is."
The warmth and approval were there again in his gaze. "I like you, Riddhima."
"I think I could like you, too, Armaan."
He threw his head back and laughed.
And something inside, suspiciously near her heart, melted.
*************************
He was there when the shoot finished two hours later.
He'd been there the whole time, watching, asking questions of the ad campaign manager, of the photographer and even one or two questions of her. Was the ground too hot for her bare feet? He hadn't believed her when she said no and his displeasure at her supposed discomfort had been obvious. So much so that they'd quickly moved to a different shot. Then he'd asked what she'd thought of the ad campaign.
She'd requested a water break to tell him. She was impressed with the ad designer's vision and thought the campaign would be effective and didn't mind saying so.
"I think this ad would capture attention looking at the current trends." She remarked as the make up artist dabbed her face with a wet cloth.
"You've studied the market and its current trends?" Armaan asked looking curiously at her taking a step forward.
"If your job was to represent it, wouldn't you?"
"Yes, I suppose I would." He picked up the spray-on sunscreen and started to mist her with it. "You continually surprise me, Riddhima. It is a new experience for me with a woman."
"You must be spending time with the wrong ones."
"I think that is a given." He winked.
Her heart stopped. Literally. And then started pounding so hard and fast, she felt light-headed. This man was so bad for her equilibrium.
"I need to get back to work," she said, only sounding a tiny bit breathless.
"Have dinner with me tonight."
She'd been surprised he hadn't pushed the issue earlier, but the man knew his way around women. He'd given her time to think, time to decide if she wanted to see him some more. He'd dialed in right away that control was important to her and having time to make a decision would make her feel like she wasn't losing it. His perception should worry her, but she was too busy experiencing new feelings.
"Will you??" he asked again.
Riddhima felt herself being pulled deeper into the turmoil. Have dinner with him??? The ad manager was again giving her a knowing look. If she refused she would risk insulting him in front of all the crew members.
"Okay" she said a bit reluctantly.
"Great…I have to wrap a meeting in my office. I'll pick you up from the reception at 7pm. Be ready on time." He added winking mischievously.
***********************
Armaan flexed his neck and got up stretching his arms. The meeting had been one hell of a gruesome one. He had to single handedly convince the investors that their new product was worth investing for. It was the first ever time the new brand was going to be launched under his name. So far it had been his father and grandfather. And despite proving himself successful and tactful for over so many years…..his dad's investors still did not trust him.
And that irritated him. His dad did not trust him, these people he did business with did not give his words the due respect it deserved…why the hell was he even trying to work so hard??
Armaan felt like just running off somewhere…..leaving all this behind. Sometimes he wished he could just start all over again…independently….rather then trying to live up to his father's name and expectations.
Glancing at his watch he noted it was almost 6…..he smiled .Time to wrap up and get ready for his dinner date tonight. He really looked forward to it. Unlike what the world and probably Riddhima thought he hadn't dated much past two years atleast. His tight schedule made sure he was ready to drop dead on the bed as soon as he would reach home. And the women he met never really interested him. They seemed too eager or too interested in the name Hamilton or too self absorbed.
And much as he disliked his father's interference in his life….he knew his dad was right about one issue. The Hamilton bride. She had to be elegant, sophisticated, warm, kind….and most importantly meek and laid back. She had to be ready to be play the role of a perfect hostess, the perfect wife and bear his children. She couldn't be fierce headed and independent. No her independence would definitely lead to problems in future.
That what the hell was he doing with a woman like Riddhima??
The question caught him by surprise as he paused to analyze his thoughts. He frowned. Did he really want a meek docile mouse as his life partner?? Or was it because it had been drilled in him for so long that he now sang the same song his dad wrote for him?? Did he really want a marriage like the one between his parents?? Did he really want a wife like his mother?? Much as he loved his mum he wished sometimes that she were more outgoing and stood up against his dad. She was too docile, too submissive and turned a blind eye to his father's sometimes outrageous exploits. Did he really want a wife like that??
Deep down he knew he did not. He knew he wanted the woman he chose to be equal. To be as determined as he was. But being a Hamilton he had to think about the family name too.
Then why was he playing with Riddhima? She was just the type of woman that would be instantly rejected by his father. That would never fit the role of a Hamilton bride. Then why was he pursuing her??
Because Armaan wanted to rebel. For once he wanted to do what he wanted rather then follow his father's set up rules. He wanted to explore, to live his life his way, by his own rules rather then those set by his dad. And heck he wasn't proposing Riddhima…just a date wont harm…..he thought pushing these away from his mind.
He didn't know where his chances would lead him as far as Riddhima was concerned. But heck for once he wanted to break the rules. He marched out determined to go for the dinner and paused to listen to messages his secretary had recorded.
"Ralph Murphy called. I asked him the purpose for his call and he wanted to know if Megalos-De Luca was still acquiring any additional luxury properties.''
Armaan's interest inched upward. If Ralph, a minor competitor, was calling him, then maybe he wanted to sell. Armaan smelled a bargain.
"I'll call him before I take lunch tomorrow. Anything else?''
Emma flipped through the message slips.
"Rita Kendall wants you to attend a benefit with her, and Tabitha Bennet wants to meet you for drinks on Thursday. Chad in marketing wants five minutes with you to get an opinion on a new idea.''
She paused.
"Oh, and Riddhima Gupta called because she can't make to dinner today. She sends her apologies.''
Armaan stared at Emma in disbelief.
"Riddhima ditched our dinner date?'' He had women practically crawling over broken glass to be with him and Riddhima had blown him off.
His temper prickled. "Did she leave an alternate day? Did she offer an excuse?'"
Emma gave him a blank look and glanced at the message again, shaking her head.
"I'm sorry, sir. She was only on the line for a moment and was very polite, but--''
He waved his hand.
"Never mind.'' He took the messages and turned toward his office then stopped abruptly.
"On second thought, get Riddhima's cell number and find out what her schedule is for the next few days, day and night." No woman messed it with him and got off just like that. The sooner this Riddhima Gupta learned this…the better he thought grimly.
**************************
Okie update up atleast!! Just 25 hrs late.....😆 But here never the less!! Nothing much to say this time....pls do leave ur views...u knw i love them and they r my only inspiration!! Pls do leave ur views!! Will be looking forward to them!! Love u all!
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