? Prologue
Kripa tossed the bouquet of red roses behind her head and planted her hands on his narrow hips. It was her wedding day. She, the best actress of Hollywood, was getting married to the man of her dreams, producer, director Prithvi Bose. What more could a girl want? Kripa Kapoor, soon to be Kripa Kapoor Bose, was beautiful, rich, successful, loved, and getting married. At the age of twenty-eight, she had three academy awards sitting on the carefully designed glass shelves of her office, of her million dollar home, in Malibu.
Three hours ago everything had been perfect, now she felt something tingle her sense, as she waited for groom to arrive and take her away.
She saw the best man, sing, composer, lyricists Angad Khanna standing brooding in a corner, with a long, brown, cigar clamped between his teeth. He seemed to be brooding, as he usually did. Kripa sighed, she'd know Khanna since she had entered the world of arts. He was thirty-one and topping every chart with his latest score, Only You. He was very quite, very into himself, and very, very, and just for fun, very sexy. He had pride in him or something very devastating in his life she had never understood.
She looked at him carefully. She knew him, but they were really no more than acquaintances. She felt odd, as she thought about it now. Angad Khanna was her lovers best friend, and the best man at their wedding. Yet, she knew him so little personally. She knew his name, his age, and that he had faced someone silly tragedy in life before. Had no parents, and struggled a lot before reaching where he was today.
Kripa sighed as she looked at the tall clock. They had agreed to a court marriage to keep things simple. They wanted no media, only close family. Which included, Kripa's family, Prithvi- where ever the hell he was- his family, Angad, and Kripa's best friend, her older sister, married, with two wonderful children, expecting another, Nikki.
A smile curved her lips, as she watched Nikki give her four year old son a glare as he tugged at his tie. Nikki was a doctor, a gynecologist, and had been married for nearly five year. Now, at the age of thirty- only two years Kripa's senior, she had a four year old son and a two year old daughter. Who currently was bouncing on her father's hips, with sleep in her eyes.
She didn't want any of that. Children weren't her priority. Marriage hadn't been, but Prithvi had pushed her.
Only if the damned Prithvi got here. She glanced past Angad, to the door. All she saw was the smoke from Angad's cigar vent out.
She looked at him now. He stood in a hopelessly expensive suit, with a crisp white shirt under it. He had refused to wear a tie. There was attitude and style dripping from him, in the way his collar was not buttoned, with one hand in his pocket, the other handling his cigar occasionally. His hair was black, with the faintest hints of chestnut in it due to the conditions in Sunny California. His body was lean, muscular, rangy. He topped over Prithvi's five-eleven, with a dashing Six-four. Secretly, Kripa knew she loved his height more than she did Prithvi's, due to her own five-nine frame. For God's sake, if she was that tall, she ought to stand by man who could top that by at least half a foot. Angad, did. His eyes, when you got close enough, were a deep, deep green. They were full of fury sometimes, of loneliness, of depression on occasion, and very rarely with happiness. And, they were so deep against his chiseled, gold tanned face. Hell, who wanted to look at David Beckham when Angad Khanna, taller, cuter, sexier, and oh, so delicious, stood in front of him? Khanna could try his luck in anything and get what he wanted.
But, it wasn't what he wanted, but what he needed, Kripa thought as he pulled out another long, slim cigar, from a silver box, like the ones in the old fifties movies, where the villain was getting ready to smuggle something. She watched him tear the end off, and then light it. A little amused, she watched him for a moment, the way he slid the lighter and the silver box back into his coat pocket. He looked dangerous, she mused, as he looked at her, gave her a slight nod, as if in acknowledgement. She could see his eyes, as they moved away again, in an aimless direction this time, that he needed a woman in his life. Yes, Kripa decided, shaking her head. The man needed someone who could hold him, sooth him, love him. He needed a family. She knew that just by the way he stood, his cigar crushed out, looking at Nikki balancing her daughter, Nisha on her hip, and giving her son, Aman, to her husband Raj. Oh, yes, he needed a family.
But, she could think about him later. Now she needed the man she was marrying. If he could get here now, she might just be grateful to get married and go have that honeymoon in Europe for that one long month.
He loved her, Kripa thought with a soft smile of her mouth. Emotionally, physically, and any other way. She was, even now, wearing the diamond he had given her two months ago when he had proposed to her on that private boat and then he had almost made love, when she had suddenly stopped him.
Something hurt deep inside her as the memory came back. Where was he? The anger turned into panic and worry suddenly. Was he okay? God, he was such a harsh driver.
Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Angad pull out his cell phone in pure annoyance.
Oh, God. She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall of courthouse, saw the expression change on Angad's face to worry, then fear, then anger. She closed her eyes. When she opened them, Angad was looking at her with a sorry look. Gathering her courage, she walked to him.
The closer she came, the faster his heart raced.
She was like a rose, long and slim and soft. Soft? Well, she looked that way, Angad thought annoyed himself. He wasn't allowed to be attracted to her. Prithvi was like a brotherā¦ until just two seconds ago. She looked so sad, he thought as his anger turned into pity, forming a frown on his face. Her eyes, normally so such a warm brown, weren't warm, but simply aloof. She knew something was wrong.
A hair, soft, smooth, long, fell out of her complicated French twist and brushed her slowly paling cheek. Angad felt his stomach churn. Not in desire or need or lust or love. But in fear. He was the one who had to tell her. She was going to shatter.
But her shoulders were squared and they looked strong. He had expected to see them hunched already.
"Where is he?" She demanded.
Angad gulped, "In France. He doesn't want to be married." Because he saw the shock cross her eyes before she concealed it, he raised his hands to her shoulders. "I'm sorry." When he expected her to be hysterical she simply looked at him with a blank expression.
"Fine." She looked back at her family, they all looked so happy. She turned back to Angad. "Angad, will you marry me?"
He looked at her for a moment before he managed to blink. "Kripa, you're just in shock. I'm going to take you home and then you can deal with the rest."
"I haven't lost my senseā¦yet." She shoved his hands of her shoulders. "If you can't then someone else will, but someone is going to marry me."
"Jesus Christ, she's gone mad." Angad rubbed both his hands over his face. "What's wrong with you?"
She grinned. "I need to do something insane. You should help me. And, look," she snatched his left hand, "you even have a ring that would fit me."
"Kripa, it's a mans ring."
"So? You can get me a new one." Her face expression changed completely then. "If you don't marry me, I'm going to go kill myself."
He narrowed his eyes, he was going to have to kill Prithvi the next time he saw her. "For how long do you want to be married?"
She grinned again. "God, you know me well." Enthused, she grabbed his face and kissed him full on the mouth. "Six months. As soon as I teach that bas***d Prithvi a lesson, you can leave me."
He shook his head. "Sure?" She nodded, more hair fell from her French twist. "Jesus." Round two, he thought. His first marriage hadn't lasted more than a year; this time the divorce time was fixed before he even got married. Oh, well. "Let's go break the news to your family. I'm sure they're going to be thrilled at the sudden change in plans and the groom."
An hour later, Angad was thrusting the ring from his pinky into her ring finger. They didn't need to arranged for a ring for Angad, the one she had picked for Prithvi had fit him perfectly, they just had to persuade her family and call the press to cover the marriage now. Angad looked from the diamond now flashing in Kripa's finger to her face.
He couldn't believe the ring fit her so damn perfectly.
Hey guys,
I Hope you enjoyed that! I posted the last part of Playboy Prince!
Please do comment. It really helps to know what you guys are thinking of the Fam-Fic...
Hugs and Kisses,
Neha
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