ff: ''a many splendoured thing', update pg. 102 - Page 23

prem turned slowly to look at the intruder. it was not just one person. there was a large group. but the voice belonged to a tall girl who was holding tightly onto the arm of one of the men.

she was striking in a long slinky red dress, perfectly manicured from the top of her head to the tips of her toes poking out of her high heeled shoes. the pose was dramatic, perfected to catch attention, with her knee slanting out of the high slit in the middle of her long skirt, her head tossed back to show off the glittering stones at her ear and her throat. what jarred was the look on her face, the surprise on her face mixed with decidedly exaggerated solicitousness.

an elderly gentlemen from behind her, came to the fore to stand next to heer. prem rose from his chair at the same time as heer did.

''heer puttar. what a pleasant surprise.'' he said kindly as he gathered her slender form gingerly into bearlike arms.

''hello uncle.''

prem's face remained passive while understanding fell into place in his mind. so this was balwant maan. he watched as heer remained politely neutral as a fussily dressed woman, with more jewellry than she had body to wear them, came forward to kiss her cheeks. daljeet maan. who had a strong resemblance to the girl in red, prem thought. ashlesha maan, the cousin who was getting married in three month's time. and as he watched heer react to her uncle and aunt, he thought that several things that heer's father had done made sense.

''it is good to see that you are finally appearing in the world of the living, heer.'' her aunt said, sounding peeved. ''although i didn't know that balraj had a membership at this club, heavens rest his soul.''

her sharp eyes had swung to run over prem, noting the beautiful cut of the coat, the exclusive place of their table in the room, the way the soft light and the dim shadows highlighted the regal poise in her niece which stood out in undeniable contrast to the sharper thrust of her daughter's facade.

when heer made no move to introduce him, daljeet maan said, a shrewish note creeping into her voice, ''and who are you, young man. and what voodoo magic did you do to bring heer out of her cozy shell?'' making prem think that he had never taken such an instant dislike to anyone before as he did to daljeet maan.

a sardonic voice from behind him said, ''this is prem juneja, auntyji.''

prem turned to face the owner of the arm that ashlesha was clinging to, as the voice continued. ''one of the finance whiz kids in the country. i offered him a job three years ago, and he had the audacity to turn me down.'' shiv karanjit and prem juneja stared each other in the eye for a minute before shiv held out his hand. ''how are you, prem?''

''doing as well as can be expected, shiv.''

prem turned to shiv's father, standing at his side. ''hello sir, how are you?'' before he turned back to shiv. ''did you finally figure out that problem that you were facing with the jarrod property?''

''no, not yet, and not cleanly enough. would you consider coming in for a month to consult for it?''

prem knew that all real estate business involved some amount of fudging of the numbers. one of the reasons that he had refused to work with karanjit realtor was because the firm was a little more comfortable with fudging than he would accept. but he knew the jarrod property was a real mess, and he had never been one to not look at a challenge.

''the next three months are pretty tight. why don't you give the office a call. maybe we can meet for lunch and chat?''

''great.'' they shook hands, and prem turned to heer, who was still standing quietly beside her chair.

''heer, this is shiv karanjit. shiv, heer maan. she's consulting artist with us on dad's cathedral project.''

shiv had taken heer's hand in his, with a polite smile on his face. but when he heard what she was working on, his brows rose in surprise. ''oh yes, i'd heard that you guys had restarted that -- took me by surprise. i thought the blue prints were not complete?''

''preet is working with heer on completing it. it's remarkable. heer never met dad. but once she saw the prototype and talked with preet, they seem to be able to develop a vision on how dad might have done on the cathedral.''

shiv turned back to heer, her hand still in his. ''beauty and vision, all in one package.'' he murmured, lifting her hand to press a kiss on her fingers. ''you juneja's have the devil's luck sometimes.''

prem noticed how ashlesha had stiffened during their exchange, her face turning rapidly bored, and gestured to her, ''well, you have your share. i believe you are to be congratulated?''

shiv turned around with the bright smile, ''ah yes, prem, this is ashlesha, my fiance. ash, darling, you never mentioned that you had an artist cousin?''

ashlesha sashayed forward, holding out her hand, looking disappointed when prem shook it. ''yes, well. my artist cousin had gone underground for so long, darling, that it had quite slipped my mind that i had one.'' she turned to heer, reaching out to hug her.

''heer, darling. you should've called. we could've met for lunch or something. and my artist cousin could've told me all about the dishy men that she is working with now.'' she said, patting prem's arm appreciatively.

heer stood quietly all the while, and ashlesha turned peevishly to shiv. ''darling, i promise i will tell you all about my artist cousin. but i am famished just now. and you promised me a view from the balcony. shall we not go now?''

shiv's face looked resigned, as he said his goodbye to heer. the group moved past the table, daljeet fussing over ashlesha and shiv as they walked on. balwant maan looked apologetically at heer and patted her awkwardly on the shoulder.

''remember what i said, puttar. you are always welcome to our home. please do come visit, come for the wedding.'' he said before he walked away.

prem looked at heer, standing still, and gently took her cold little hands in his. ''hey, heer.'' he whispered softly in her ear, making her turn to look at him. but her eyes still had that far away unfocussed look.

''hmmm?''

''do artists always seduce by glowing with beauty like in the paintings of the old masters?''

heer's brow furrowed.

''why is it, ms. maan,'' prem's hands were on her shoulders turning her to face him, his voice was gentle, seducing her into focussing on him, rather than the mess of her past that had changed her from a laughing sparkling girl, to the cold dark one at his side just now.

''that even in a simple white dress,'' he ran his hands from her shoulders to her hands and watched her eyes focus on his face.

''with no stones to adorn your neck'', his fingers played a hot tune on her collarbone, and he felt her skin shiver in response.

''with your hair tumbling down, free to ensnare me,'' he twisted her hair around one hand, and could feel her breath come faster on his face.

''you still glow with an inner light. you capture my heart, like your cousin in all her finery can never do?'' he ran his thumb softly along her cheek, across her lower lip, and watched it drop open, vulnerable and soft.

''why, heer?'' she felt that softly spoken question on her lips, before she let her head fall back on her neck, inviting him to come to her.

standing in that dimly lit corner, in full view of the society of rich people that formed part of his life, and the venerable treasures of the past that were a part of hers, prem juneja bent his head to his goddess, and offered her his soul in the kiss he crushed upon her lips.

heer could never quite remember what she ate on that dinner with prem. but she remembered every other little detail.

she remembered how he had told her gripping stories about the people who had been at the club dining hall that night.

she remembered how he had listened to her, his face fully absorbed, as she described what she found most beautiful in the artwork they had walked around the room to see.

she remembered how she had felt warm and safe standing in the circle of his arms, her back cradled against his front, as they had walked out on the balcony of the hall, and looked out over the trees behind the club house.

she remembered how she felt more full and sated on the sound of his voice, his laughter, the shine in his eyes, more than the food that they were served.

she remembered how they had both understood without speaking that they wanted to walk back rather than take a cab home. how each of them had together headed towards the park, walking silently side by side, hands tucked in their coat pockets to keep out of the cold.

she remembered how she had seen him at the top of the little hill in the middle of the park, where the trees fell off and the moon shone bright. how he looked in the moonlight, the blue light making magic of his strong jawline, and his magnetic eyes. she remembered how her soul had gone wild with the need to capture that look in paints immediately. she remembered how she had wanted to run back hom with him. she rememebered how it seemed like he had felt her need, how he had picked up the pace, how they had quickly walked hand in hand, in the night, how they had nearly run the last few blocks to the apartment building.

prem had the sense of not being in control of himself from the moment that he had kissed heer in the club. it had not been a simple kiss. it had been driven, hard and complicated. they had both mutually broken away from it, both knowing that it was a story they would finish later. both knowing that they had forever. and he had proceeded to treat every moment thereafter as an infinitely precious thing.

when he had seen her looking at him in the moonlight, her wide eyes taking on a fairie glow, he knew that he would willingly do anything that she asked of him that night. and every other night, if she allowed him to stay.

they went up to her apartment in silence. he stood still and waiting in the middle of her apartment as she switched on all the lights, pulled forward the little easel, readied her box, her bowls, her palettes. when finally she had everything she needed, she stepped up to him, a question in her wonderous eyes.

prem took her hand, and held it to his chest, and said, his voice soft in the silence, ''i am yours, heer. what would you have of me?''

in answer, she moved her hands over his shoulders, taking his jacket off, carefully laying it on the arm of the sofa behind him.

''would you remove your shirt, please?'' her voice was neutral, belying the dark intensity of her eyes. he mimicked her actions, carefully laying his shirt with his jacket.

heer led him by his hand to the middle of the rug, her head tilted as she assessed the light above his head. ''would you be comfortable sitting on the rug, or would you prefer a chair?''

the critical intensity of her eyes sharpened as he dropped on the rug, noting how the light reflected and refracted on rippling skin as he moved.

she had turned towards her easel, when suddenly she stopped in her tracks.

''you do know that i've never painted people before?'' she said slowly, looking so lost that all prem wanted to do was to hold her and tell her it was okay. instead, he sat, still, quiet and solemn, waiting for her to come to her own conclusions. and perhaps she did find the reassurance she needed. because she turned back to her easel, and started mixing her paints.

at first, he had sat stiff, unsure of what she had wanted of him. until she had told him that he could move around, that what she really had to do was try to capture the effect of movement and light that was him. after that, he was more relaxed. sometimes, he stood up. he stretched. once, he got some cushions to throw on the rug. and then the newspapers tossed carelessly on the sofa.

when he was done with those, he sat and watched heer. he was amazed at how her work consumed her, how she became a completely different person when she was painting. he remembered how she had been at dinner. he would have been a fool to deny that she had been as fine-tuned to him, as sensitive to him, as he had been to her all evening. he knew that she was probably as absorbed in him as he had bee in her. but now, even though her full focus was on him and only him, her eyes were not really seeing him, prem juneja. her eyes were frantic, possessed, turned inward. it was as if they were both physically in the same room, but she was somewhere else in spirit.

prem juneja understood the madness of artistic creativity. he had seen preet do it sometimes; disappear in his head while being there in body. more than his brother, it was his father that he was reminded of as he watched heer. his father, the architect with the artistic passion for perfection. and it was strangely soothing to remember his father again as he sat back among the cushions on the rug in front of heer's easel as she furiously painted him.


prem surfaced slowly out of a deep sleep. he could feel fingers softly brushing back his hair, stroking down his cheek, over the stubble of his chin. ''prem'' a soft voice was calling to him. ''prem, wake up prem. come off the floor. prem.'' her fingers were back in his hair, and he moved his face towards her hand, eyes still closed, his mouth nuzzling her palm. ''prem...'' the voice had become a sigh.

heer watched his eyelashes flicker open to reveal deep dark pools of sleepy warmth. she watched as they slowly focussed on her face, as his lips slowly drew into a smile. she so badly wanted to feel that smile against her mouth.

the first thing that prem saw was heer's beloved face leaning close to his. the lights in the room had been dimmed. but he could still make out the remnants of that painting fervour making her eyes flash. he was lying on her rug, but now there was a comforter draped over him. ''hi. i fell asleep'' he murmured in sleepy surprise. ''did you get done? what time is it?''

''hmmm, yes.'' he could hear a smile in her soft voice. ''i am done for the day. it's nearly 2am. you were starting to look cold on the floor, so i thought i should stop. i was trying to lift you off the floor to the sofa, but you woke up.''

''mmm.'' prem propped his head up on his hand. she was kneeling next to him, still in her dress from dinner, with a painter's apron over it to protect it from the paint. he was tempted to lay his head in her lap, wrap his arms around her waist and go back to sleep, surrounded by the feel of her.

''you put your hair up.'' prem's face had an air of disappointment. he reached up with his other hand and tugged -- once, twice -- at the loose knot at the back of her head. the force of it jerked her forward, her hands coming to rest on the comforter over his heart. prem murmured with pleasure as her hair finally came loose and tumbled over his face. he combed the heavy mass back off her face, to tuck it behind her ear. his palm brushed against her face, and he exclaimed when he realised how cold her cheek was.

he brought his other hand up, and ran it up and down her hand, slipping under the heavy cloth of her sleeve to rub her chilled skin. she shivered at the heat he generated.

''you're cold, heer.'' prem said, concern overriding than the sleep in his voice. instinctively, he reached out his arms, wrapped them around her shoulders, and drew her to lie against him, bringing the comforter over them both. he tucked her head into his shoulder, her feet between his, his hands undoing the apron and tossing it away from the rug, before running his hands up and down her back. he could feel her chilled hands come up to rest against his chest.

''better?'' he murmured into the top of her head. she lie there quiescent, under his hands, against his body, her breath short and warm against his neck. he continued rubbing her back.

''heer?'' prem thought he was beginning to fall asleep again, and thought that he should think about getting up, getting a cab, getting home before that happened again. ''heer, are you warm?'' he asked. she was so quiet. had she gone to sleep in exhaustion? ''heer?'' he brought his hand up under the heavy hair to cup the back of her neck, and tilted her face gently upto his.

she was not asleep. in the dimness of the room, he could see that her face was somber. and her eyes were on fire. not the fervour to paint he had seen there a couple of hours ago. this was driven by a more elemental urge. her eyes were on fire for him.

prem's mind went blank at the same moment that his body went rigid, his arms became hard bands around heer, pulling her upto him, crushing her into him. and his mouth met hers, seeking a way more ancient than the civilised route of language and words to show her that he was on fire too. on fire for her.

there! see!? i told you they were being out of control??

anyway. have to run. 😆 seriously. study group's here. if nans hasn't kicked me out, then next chunk later tonight, i guess.