Originally posted by: JalebiJane
EPISODE 31
Raghav Rao was gratified to find Johnny stationed a few doors down from Deshmukh Saree Emporium, seated near a chaiwallah’s stall reading a newspaper and sipping his tea—yet alert to the activity around him. Their eyes met when Raghav stepped out of the vehicle, but no other sign of acknowledgement passed between the two men to expose their connection.
It was not entirely clear to Raghav himself why he had asked Farhad to have Pallavi guarded.
Their connection was not publicly established—it was not as though his enemies would know to pursue Pallavi to get to him. However, he had felt the need—and he trusted his instincts on such matters.
In any case, with Amma safe in the hospital and Kirti guarded at the palace, Johnny had the time to watch over Pallavi.
Raghav saw Pallavi was on that ladder—again!—arranging sarees on the top shelves. She must have received a delivery this morning, as she descended the ladder every now and again to remove goods from boxes, carrying them up to the shelves. She was alone.
Raghav paused outside the entrance of the shop observing her movements—an unasked-for pleasure. His eyes passed over her shapely figure with warm admiring eyes. Pallavi’s movements disturbed a particular lock of hair which was just a bit too short to remain safely tucked behind her ear. It repeatedly fell across her cheek, and she absentmindedly brushed it away.
As her arms reached up, her choli stretched tight over her breasts. His breath caught at her loveliness.
I have thus far, Sisters, presented you with a man not ruled by his sexual needs. But I don’t wish to mislead you.
Raghav was not indifferent or unmoved by a woman’s beauty. He was a man, after all. He had noticed Pallavi’s graceful limbs and her high breasts when she had slid onto the barstool that evening at the casino. He had noticed the curve of her waist and her exposed midriff when he had found her on top of this same ladder that afternoon he discovered her identity. He had appreciated all she had to offer physically but he was not one of those men who could separate the physical experience from relating to the entire person.
Had he been capable of that he would have followed Anjali into the swimming pool at the villa that night she threw off her clothes and jumped in. Anjali was a very desirable woman—but that is where it began and ended. It was all surface.
That is not to suggest that he had never sampled his share of attractive women. he had been selective but he had not been celibate. Lack of experience was not the way to characterise Raghav. And this experience helped him now imagine what it would be to take Pallavi into his arms. The thought powerfully stirred his loins.
***
Pallavi came off the ladder, folded it shut—and moved it to the corner. The mirror caught her reflection and she stopped to readjust her saree and smooth down her hair. Her skin warmed from activity had shifted her bindi so she moved closer to the mirror to readjust it. A movement at the edge of the mirror frame caught her attention—and she saw it was Raghav Rao— observing her.
A shock of electricity not entirely unpleasant ran through her. She swung around to face him.
He climbed up and came towards her, saying, “While I’ve never understood the hobby of people-watching, I could quickly become a convert to the hobby of Pallavi-watching.” His lips curved at his own clever turn of phrase.
While she was flattered she did not allow her features to show it. Instead she asked very solicitously, “How is your mother doing?”
“Probably terrifying every ward boy and criticizing every nurse.”
“A family trait?” she delivered cheekily with a lifted brow.
He gave a chuckle, stepped closer, and asked, “Is that how you see me? A tyrant?”
“Krishna has acquainted me with your reputation, Mr Rao—and the words pussycat and teddybear never came up.”
“Let’s go for coffee,” he suggested.
“I’m working,” Pallavi said, moving away. And to give weight to her words, she reached for an empty box.
She found her wrist caught in his grip.
“Don’t turn away from me when I’m speaking,” he said.
Removing his hand, she asked bluntly, “Why are you here?”
“Come for coffee and I’ll tell you.”
However tempting it was, Pallavi indicating the empty shop, and said, “Krishna is away this morning. I’m alone.”
“Shut the shop for half an hour—”
“—I can’t afford to do that!”
“You cannot afford not to,” he said, “I’m your landlord. Either you shut the shop for thirty minutes now or I shut you down forever.”
Pallavi straightened with a huff. “Why must everything begin and end with a threat with you?”
“If you obeyed me, I wouldn’t have to resort to threats,” he stated.
“Obeyed—?!”
The rest of her screed was paused—as Raghav pressed his thumb to her lips silencing her. He bent closer and lowered his voice to an intimate tone, “Someday you will discover how much you enjoy obeying my orders—but for now, don’t resist. Come have coffee with me.” His thumb stroked her lip, and her lips parted without her knowledge. His eyes dropped to her mouth and back to her eyes. “This will be the most important conversation you and I ever have.” And indicating the shop entrance, he added, “And I won’t have it interrupted by nosy aunties.”
Was it Raghav’s past sins, Sisters—or just plain bad luck that he was in that very interesting moment interrupted.
“Pallavi?”
Pallavi tilted her head and saw the question was spoken by Rakesh who was standing immediately behind Raghav.
She also realized what Rakesh might have witnessed.
From any perspective, a woman caught with a man’s thumb teasing her bottom lip was susceptible to question.
“Rakesh,” she greeted, forcing a light airy tone to her voice, as she stepped out from behind Raghav. “You found our shop. Wonderful.”
But Rakesh was not so easily diverted. He looked at Raghav and then back at her, and asked, “Is this man bothering you?”
The thunderous look which entered Raghav’s eyes told Pallavi that unless she handled this situation carefully, this incident might spill onto the street in a bloody event.
She gave a laugh and said, “No, not at all.” And pretending this was an ordinary social scene, she made introductions.
The two men shook hands but it was very much in that manner when competing men measure each other’s strength. Rakesh was slightly shorter than Raghav but he was equally well-built.
She was grateful Raghav understood her desire for him to leave. And he did. But not before he conveyed with his eyes that he would be in touch.
Once he was gone, more oxygen entered the shop space. She breathed easily.
Rakesh asked, “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything—but I saw a man leaning into you, touching you, and I sensed you were under threat.”
“Absolutely not,” Pallavi said, then attempting to inject humour into the conversation, “So you want to buy sarees. Tell me—how many girlfriends are you shopping for today?”
Fortunately, this time Rakesh allowed her to shift the topic, and took her lead.
“Four,” he laughed. “And if I presumed to treat them like my girlfriends my practice would be immediately shut down on sexual harrassment charges.”
“Your practice?”
“I thought you knew—I’m a physician. I have four female staff at my clinic and I promised to bring them sarees.”
“No, I didn’t know you were a doctor,” Pallavi said.
“Of course. We’ve just met. But I hope we will get to know each other better in the coming days.”
How could she respond to that? So she gave a benign smile, turned to the shelves and asked, “What colours did you have in mind?”
While she and Rakesh examined sarees, Pallavi’s attention was intermittently drawn to the shop front. Perhaps it was simply the residual effect of Raghav’s visit—but she sensed she was being watched.