'AASTHA'-Maaneet FF-PART 1 RE-WRITTEN - Page 10

Recap :-

The violence Maan had held in check erupted, his body jerking into action, his legs closing the distance between them so fast, everything was a blur except the need to punch home his point. His fist crashed down on the desk, making his father flinch back in his chair.

'Understand me!' His eyes blazed unshakeable resolution as he reinforced it with all the turbulent passion stirred by the situation. 'Geet Handa should have been my wife. I want her as my wife. And I will have her as my wife.!'

PART 7

Geet stood at the closed door to the hall bathroom. 'Daksh?'

'Pleassshhh... Maa... I'm going to the bathroom'.

'Well, speed it up. We have to get back to the shop. I told Pinky, I would only be gone half an hour, tops.' Pinky was one of Geet's two designers.

'Maa. Can I please have a little privacy?. I am a grown up boy now..'

'Get a move on'. Geet couldn't hold back her smile at her, little baby's claim..

'I'm trying.'

Right then the doorbell rang.

Daksh yelled, "Maa... If that's Ahaan, tell him—'

'Just finish your business, young man — and don't forget to wash your hands." Geet headed for the front door to the sound of the toilet flushing behind her.

She came around the corner to the entryway — and saw Pinky's face through the glass in the top of her front door.

She opened the door immediately, thinking what could have brought Pinky here, as she was only away for half-an hr from the shop.

'Geet Di.. sorry to disturb you like this. Mrs. Sharma is here... and she insists on your assistance to finalise the costumes and accessories on her daughter's marriage'. Pinky explained in one go. She was more like a sister to Geet.

'Make her comfortable. I will be there in a minute, Pinky'.

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The boutique stood on the relatively staid street of shops and private villas... at one end of the room by the steps that lead to the front hallway of the villa...

Maan had a feel of times past about it. The oyster-white sign over the door read 'Deja Vu' in flowing script. Vines and morning glories twined and trailed in and out of the lettering.

Maan stood beneath a striped awning, his hands fisted in his pockets, staring in the window to the left of the shop's entrance. Beyond the glass was a long diwan, covered in filmy white linens and piled with embroidered white pillows... the wall behind draped with white curtains...

Next to the diwan, on the left, stood a contemporary white-shaded floor lamp. On the right, a white side table, with a vase of white roses and a big white candles...

So many designer apparels and accessories were displayed in a very exquisite style inside the shop... But, what caught Maan's attention was the white lacy nightgowns, each one a little different from the next, had been placed in a L-shaped rattan modular sofa, in an artful tangle across the pillows and the white linen covers, as if the lady who owned them all couldn't make up her mind which to wear.

Maan smiled to himself. The fists stuck in his pockets relaxed a little.

On their trip to Mussoorie..., Geet had worn a nightgown like one of those thrown across that white bed... gifted by him... an almost transparent gown, with lace at the collar and down the front. And roses, little pink ones, embroidered around the tiny pearly buttons. Those buttons had given him trouble. They were so damn small. He cursed himself for his selection... And he had been nervous, though he'd tried not to show it.

She was too reluctant to wear that, at first...

He gasped in disbelief... at the sight of her beauty... She walking towards him..., with those hesitant, yet eager steps... Maan felt every cell in his body vibrate... with urge to feel her... with the need to make her his... rip away the barriers and sink into her, assuaging the hunger that had been consuming them both for almost 14 months now...

He clamped down on the urge, savored its bittersweet abrasion as she neared. Everything inside him surged as her hazel eyes, the embodiment of her name, radiated the purity of her pleasure at seeing him, even as her dimpled smile trembled a reflection of his rioting emotions. It was always the same. They excited the hell out of each other... In every way...

Her cheeks were flushed... Her eyes shyly hidden... The very air around her seemed to shimmer with electricity as she moved. He held out his hand 'Mishti... come here...' his voice was soft... not much above a husky whisper...and she slipped her fingers into his long tanned fingers... his fingers absently stroking the diamond ring , he had placed there, only few hours ago... He was close, and came closer... His finger lightly traced her chin and stroked the skin along her jaw... He nuzzled her hair and inhaled deeply, his hold on her tightening slightly... His warm lips glazed over her skin, making her shiver, making him smile.

All worries washed away and Geet became entranced under Maan's magical touch. His lips brushed over her forehead along her hairline, his warm breath sending tingles along her skin. It was hard to believe such a simple act could be so erotic and arousing.

Her fingertips grazed over the hardened muscles of his back and a small moan escaped her lips. 'Geeet... I want you... I need you... I want to make love with you'... he breathed softly against her hair. His arms pulled her body harder to his as his lips tasted her neck's tender skin. 'I want you to want me... I need you to need me... I'd love you to love me'...

Geet's lips parted and she inhaled deeply, taking in his intoxicating male scent... His lips were doing incredible things to her senses as his hands awakened the sensual being she had never known existed. Finally she breathed out her wish as her eyelids fluttered closed, 'Maaan...Take Me'...

Maan turned from the window. He stared across the street, at a store that sold hand-painted furniture. A man and a woman stood at the display window there, admiring a tall bureau decorated with a woodland scene. Maan watched them, not really seeing them, until they disappeared inside.

Then, rather abruptly, he turned back to the shop called 'Deja Vu' . Two determined steps later, he reached the glass-fronted door. He took the handle and pulled it open.

The scent of the place hit him first— floral, sweet but not too sweet. It smelled like summer in the Urals — a hint of flowers, sunshine..., and cool water...

And something spicy, too. Like cinnamon. It didn't smell like Geet, exactly. But it reminded him of her. Sweet and just a little spicy.

He'd barely started to smile at the thought when he realized he'd tripped the buzzer that would warn her she had another customer. She turned and saw him just as he spotted her.

She was standing there, simply dressed — she looked heavenly in her long flowing white skirt and plain mustard yellow banarasi top. She was a vision, a breath taking beauty...

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When the buzzer rang, Geet glanced toward the door out of habit, ready to send her new customer a swift, be-right-with-you smile.

Did his sudden appearance in her shop means that he had changed his mind?

"Er... miss? Are you all right?"

Geet snapped her head around and forced a brilliant smile for her customer. "I am fine. Where were we?" She glanced down at the stack of brightly colored material she clutched in her arms. 'Ah, of course. I remember. And I do understand. Not everyone loves white. That's why I wanted you to see these. They're by a Kashmiri designer I especially like. Summer Garden is the name of this pattern. Beautiful, isn't it? The colors are so vivid, different intensities of green and blue, with the flowers like splashes of pink and yellow and red.' She held out the neatly folded pile of materialc. 'Feel.'

Her customer ran a hand over the fabric. 'Soft.'

'And durable, too. Three hundred thread count. The finest quality combed cotton, cool in summer, cozy in winter.' Geet slid a glance at Maan. He was watching her.

And he'll just have to wait a little longer, she thought. 'Come this way.' She indicated a display near the far wall. 'I have more from this designer. Tell me what you think...'

A few minutes later, Geet closed a sale of materials for suits, sarees, tunics, few accessories and cosmetics. As soon as she rang that one up, there was someone new to wait on. And someone else after that. Since one of her assistant had the day off and pinky had taken a two-hour lunch break, as she also takes care of Daksh, all the customers were Geet's. And Geet never liked to make a customer wait.

Still, she could have stolen a moment for the civilities, a moment for hello-how-are-you. An opportunity to find out why Maan had come here, to her shop. She didn't do that. Because she was stalling, foolishly hoping he might just give up and leave.

But no, how can she forget, after all, he is Maan Singh Khurana! He will make sure, what ever purpose he has come for, it's taken care. He wandered the room, examining her merchandise as if he actually intended to buy something. He seemed, very patient, quite willing to wait until she had time to deal with him.

His patience bothered her almost as much as his sudden appearance in her shop.

But things had changed since then. Back then, Maan Singh Khurana, was not less than a terror. He has always done — do things in his own ways... and Geet has always allowed him to take decisions for her. She has changed over the years... Now, she is a women of herself!. She makes her decisions and stood by those...

The thought probably should have pleased her. For a man like Maan to learn patience— that was a good thing.

But it didn't please her. It made her nervous. Maan had always been relentless. To think that he might now be patient as well could cause her considerable difficulty if, for some reason, he decided to use those characteristics against her.

But why would he do that?

She didn't want to know— which was why she kept stalling, kept letting him wait.

Nearly an hour after Maan entered the shop, Geet found herself alone with him— save for an elderly woman who came in often to browse. The nice old lady took her time, as usual. Finally she settled on a three-piece set of needlepoint antimacassars. Geet rang up the sale and counted out change.

'Oh, you know I will, dear. I love your little shop.' A cagey grin appeared on the woman's puckered rosebud of a mouth. 'And you always do pay such lovely attention to me when I visit.'

Geet pulled open the door. To the accompaniment of the shop's buzzer, her customer toddled outside, turning to wave as she made her way up the street. Geet stepped onto the sidewalk to wave back. Stalling.

And then the time had come. Geet went inside again and shut the door.

Maan had moved into the central aisle, only a few feet away from her. She felt cornered, so near the door that she kept triggering the buzzer, but distressingly reluctant to move closer to him.

He had the courtesy to back up a few paces. She moved warily toward him and the buzzing ceased.

There was silence.

She had to force herself to say his name. ' Maan.'

'Geeet', he said more like a whisper... The world surrounding her faded, it was as if she and Maan were alone in the universe... She couldn't bring herself to look up into the dark eyes she knew she'd recognize. The scenarios she'd so often pictured faded. The reality was she didn't have a word to say to him... Her heart fluttered, memories crowded painfully in her mind... Of the love she'd once felt for him...

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Precap :-

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sooo... how was it friends... did i meet you expectations... letme know your comments... review... critics... and LOVE...

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I am sooo sad... the thread is not moving at all yaar...

Link to Part 8

Love your story and how you write every single detail.