RiKara SS - Laal Ishq Pt 3 pg 8(10/7/17) - Page 3

O- N- E

When heart sees eyes do not

He looks like Lord Shiva, was her first thought; or what she imagined her god would look like. His hair was longer than of any men she had ever seen, dark curls softly reaching his broad shoulder blades like a mane it cascaded his face. His skin was golden, eyes the darkest swirls of brown. His jaw was a sharp line, defining the proud shape of his face, his eye lashes were long casting shadows on his high cheek bones. He wore a wreath of wooden beads on his neck. Only his modern clothing the loose fitting gray t shirt and cargo pants, the leather bands on his wrist and the thick framed spectacles hiding his eyes spoke of his mortality. He was no God; but a mortal who looked divine. For a moment she forgot of all the hatred brewing in her mind towards the artist who agreed to work for Kali Takur; all the curses she had mentally hurled at the unseen man in that moment all she wanted was for him to lift his gaze from the lifeless marble and meet her eyes.

Then he did. In a split second his eyes flicked up at her and she froze at the door.

She looks like sin personified, he thought stealing a glance at her under his long lashes. Thick dark hair darker than the moonless night sky swept down to her waist. Her skin was creamy, like warm milk with a pinch of saffron. Her eyes were bottomless dark and wide, edged with lashes heavy with kohl. Her lips were soft, sinfully pump neck a proud swan like column. He restrained his gaze there, too furious with his own eyes. She looked lost standing nervously at the threshold of his studio. Her fingers nervously fidgeted with the lapels of the long navy blue satin robe she wore pulling them tighter around her neck as if trying to suffocate herself. For a moment he forgot the disgust simmering under his thoughts at the woman who had used her beauty to trap a wealthy old man just like Svetlana his mind reminded him.

"Sit, he said curtly. And whatever dreamy trance she was swaying in, tattered. She shook her head gently, eyes still on him and he sat aside his chisel and folded his arms. "I don't have whole day.

Her bare toes dug into the plush carpet, as she stepped inside, her eyes roaming the walls that encased them, noting each sculpture, each canvas or simply charting an escape route. Nervously she glanced at him again, but his eyes weren't on her. Instead he was glaring at the brawny man who entered behind her. Kali had sent his best; to make sure she did not escape on the way. He had tried his best to get the artist home; an invitation more likely a threat that he had refused. She wondered how he did it. No man refused Kali, no living men at least. That's what her uncle had said, what her villagers believed.

"Stay out, he ordered the guard as if he owned the man. "I hate crowd.

"I'm not supposed to leave her alone, the man informed in his monotonous professional voice. "Not until she is back with Takur Sahab.

"Then take her with you to your Takur sahib and tell him Omkara Singh Oberoi heeds no commands, a dismissive statement and a tilt of head, he was back to his marble, sharpening a line with his chisel devotedly. The man did not move and a minute passed before he looked up again. "You won't be able to, huh? Then go, stand guard outside. You can take her once the session is over in exactly two hours. Go on leave!

The man lingered inside the room for another minute and hesitantly backed out, shutting the door behind him. She jumped at the snap of the door shutting and turned to find his dark eyes focused on her. She swallowed.

"Thank you, something that sounded very much like her own voice was saying. He raised an eyebrow and clicked his tongue.

"What for?

"For sending him out I that it, he held out a hand, sighing and suddenly looking weary.

"Save it for someone who actually matters like your would be husband? He suggested in a nonchalant voice. "It's not like I'm gonna believe you actually care who sees you disrobed I've seen women like you before.

"Women like me? She repeated slowly. "Women like me? What exactly are you thinking about me?

"What should I be thinking about a woman who has no qualms about stripping before a stranger? He shot back, without missing a beat, the disgust, the reproach clear in his tone. Those were the words she had been muttering to herself for many nights now but hearing them coming from another's mouth his mouth something burned inside her.

"How dare you!

"Why don't you ask that from your lover, who wants to make your nude sculpture? He shrugged, finally walking around his work table to stand before her, eyes boring into hers and jaw clenched. "But that doesn't really bother you, does it? Not when he has enough money huh? Tell me what exactly should I think of a woman like you?

"I will tell you, she breathed, furious with herself for comparing this man with her God. He was exactly what she thought he might be, before coming here; shallow, insensitive and harsh. "When you tell me what I should think of an artist who sells his soul. Why didn't you ask all these noble questions from him when he offered to buy your talent or passion to fulfill his fantasy? But why would you huh? She imitated his nonchalant tone. "When he is paying you heftily?

"You "

"If I'm wretched so are you. If I have no dignity neither do you. If I " his palm covered her mouth, cutting her sentence off abruptly. She was breathing hard, the anger and frustration brewing inside her for weeks had finally found its release and still he stopped her from finding a little peace. Tears burned her eyes like acid when their gazes met again.

"Go, he said tilting his head towards the door to their right, leading into the room where he kept his supplies stored. "And sit inside. The realization hit her slowly, easing the muscles that had been stiff for days and the flames of frustration begin to thin off. "I don't want to see your face for the rest of the day. She froze and he stepped away from her.

"Wh what?

"Did you really think I'm gonna strip you? He shrugged. "Go on, I'll call you once two hours are done.

**

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Love,

Sakura