CHAPTER 8
zoya shaded her forehead with the flat of her hand as she stared up at the lone figure on the balcony. Asad constantly guard himself against the world. He never spoke about his childhood except in the vaguest of terms, but there had to be something there that had warped his ability to trust...particularly women.
How long had they been standing there staring at each other, separated by more than just the physical space between them
On impulse zoya lifted her hand and waved. For a moment she thought she saw his hand twitch on the shiny aluminium rail as if he was going to wave back, but then she saw Tanveer move out from the shade of the house onto the balcony, and put her hand on his bare arm. He turned to accept the cup she handed him, sliding a brown arm across the back of her dazzling white top as they both retreated inside the house.
At least they weren't having breakfast in bed! thought zoya savagely, letting her hand drop to her somersaulting belly.
It's OK, little one, I won't let that wicked witch keep your stupid daddy walled up in his ivory tower,' she soothed.
She changed into her new bikini, quite modest in terms of coverage but in a vibrant, eye-catching purple piped with lime-green that the shop-assistant had assured her would make heads turn. One in particular, she hoped. Since there was a slight breeze she draped herself in the matching see-through, lime-green sun wrap that had cost even more than the bikini.
Dragging the light, powdered-aluminium sun-lounger from the games cupboard' in the garage out onto the back lawn, zoya unfolded it and positioned it carefully to take advantage of the sun's rays, while making sure it was angled in full view of next door's wrap-around windows. She had originally intended to go down onto the beach, but decided that she would be more visible on the elevated flat of the section.
Stashing a drink bottle where it would be in the shade of her body, along with her sunscreen and a few emergency crackers wrapped in a paper towel, zoya spread a thick beach towel over the woven plastic bed of the lounger and adjusted the back to a comfortable angle. Then she settled down, sliding her sunglasses onto her nose and plopping her purple straw hat on her head. Taking the glossy library book she had brought with her, she propped it open across her hips.
She would have liked to have read one of the instructional baby books or pregnancy manuals she had hidden away in the bottom of her suitcase, but that would have been a rather obvious give-away, even to an insensitive jackass who was too busy breaking hearts to recognise a good woman when he had her cradled in the palm of his hand...
zoya leafed to page one.
Blood and diamonds.'
She had read Asad Ahmed Khan' first novel more than once before, but then she had been reading for pleasure"and pride. Now she was reading for research. All authors put something of their real selves into their books. Somewhere in these pages were traces of the man she was trying to under stand. Perhaps the skilled researcher in her would be able to sort out some sober facts from the thrilling fiction.
At first zoya twitched and shifted and was uncomfortably conscious of her exposed position, but gradually she became engrossed in the familiar story and forgot about ulterior motives, or that she was not supposed to be reading for sheer kicks.
Roused from her trance when her legs began to tingle with warmth, she got up and lowered the back of the lounger so that she could lie down on her stomach, placing the book flat in front on the grass and propping her chin in her hands, wrig gling her hips to flatten out the slight sag in the plastic that had been hollowed out by her bottom. Occasionally a midge would perform a crazy loop-the-loop across her field of vision or an annoying fly trickle across the back of her leg, but even tually the drugging combination of sun and sea and weeks of nervous tension took their toll, and zoya had drifted off to a light doze, her nose buried in the crook of her elbow
She was disturbed by a chill shadow across her upper body an she saw that the figure looming over her was not the tarnished hero of her life but his deadly Titian princess, dressed neck-to-toe in white. Although the hair was more carroty than artistic auburn, decided zoya in an inward yowl, and the lady was definitely pushing thirty, at the very least. That alabaster brow was positively bo toxical, and those luscious lips"that had to be collagen!
Hi,' zoya said wittily, pushing the comforting shield of her sunglasses up her nose, while simultaneously trying to untwist the wrap that had got trapped under her side as she tried to gracefully roll over on the uncooperative sun-lounger. The aluminium frame made an ominous creaking sound as her elbow slipped through a gap in the webbing, but she finally managed to wrestle herself free and sit up in reasonable dignity.
We haven't met, have we? I'm zoya farooqui.' She held out her hand. Politeness, she had learned from her lethally charming mother, could be very empowering. Tanveer baig,' came the clipped reply and some minuscule part of zoya relaxed. Not Tanveer khan, then. She crossed one nightmare scenario off her list.
I don't know what you think you're doing here, but why don't you just get out and leave him alone?'
I beg your pardon?' zoya said, sitting bolt upright.
He doesn't want you following him. He comes to The Beach to get away from the smothering attention of people like you. You can't possibly understand his needs. Give him some space, why don't you?'
Let me guess, you and Asad are graduates from the same school of etiquette?' said zoya drily, when she had got over the sting of the lightning attack.
Under the silk top the over-inflated bosom heaved, reveal ing a gap between the scalloped hem and the low-rise white jeans, and a strip of winter-pale skin sporting the sparkle of an impressive navel ring.
Thinking of navels made her think of her baby and she pleated the folds of her wrap over her tummy. By her calculations she was barely two months along, and the books said it would be another two before her baby bulge began to show, but even now she felt a responsibility to shield her son or daughter from negative experiences in the womb.
Asad and I have known each other since before you were around,' the other woman flung at her. She smiled, but only the muscles around her mouth moved. He's told me all about you, but you have no idea what he and I are to each other, do you?' zoya's hormones staged a dangerous mood swing. On the other hand, perhaps it would be good to communicate some fighting spirit from Mama!
What are you, his mistress or his muse?' she dared to ask bluntly. Because I know you can't be both"Asad doesn't trust women enough to allow any of them dominance in more than one compartment of his life.'
You don't know him as well as you think you do,' came the contemptuous reply. You may think you're special but you're really no different from any of his other groupies. You like sharing the limelight with a famous author and helping him spend his money, but you have no idea what it takes for him to create his works. Why don't you stop distracting him and let him get on with his writing"?'
While you ply him with cups of coffee and mop the creative sweat from his brow?' said zoya, watching the green eyes flicker and the collagen lips flatten.
Am I distracting him?' she added innocently. I've only been here one day. If I'm a distraction, why aren't you?'
She regretted the rhetorical tag when it was rewarded by a nasty little smile. Tanveer looked down, manicured red fingernails flicking an invisible speck off the pristine white jeans. Let's just say that Asad has a particular need that only I can fulfil for him. And we keep each other extremely well satisfied between the sheets...'
zoya's hand, tucked in her lap, balled into a fist. This one's for you, kid!
Let's not say that. Let's try and be discreet and respectful of each other's feelings, and not start an undignified cat-fight in public.' Her quiet voice stepped up a decibel. She was used to being a mediator in arguments, not an instigator. Confrontation was not her style, but she had witnessed from the cradle how it worked. Otherwise I might be tempted to say you're a grade-A, gold-plated bitch who thinks she has the right to run roughshod over other people to get what she wants. But this isn't about you or what you want. Your shame-and-blame tactics aren't going to make me run away with my tail between my legs. I wonder if Asad knows you've snuck over to try and bully me out of his life?'
The redhead stiffened, her elbows tucking into her sides, her jaw clenching as she half turned away, her white sandals acquiring a freckle of dust from the dry grass. I suppose you're going to run crying to him telling tales!'
zoya blinked, suspicion curdling in her sour stomach at the subtle body language.
Does he know?' she asked sharply.
He has been a victim of a stalker before, you know. She wrote him hundreds of letters"a pathetic woman who thought five minutes of conversation and his personal autograph to her in the flyleaf of a book meant they were soul mates.'
She hadn't known, but the evasive reply had the red flags snapping briskly. How tragic. I've never even sent Asad a postcard, but if I get an overwhelming urge to buy stamps in bulk I'll be sure and check myself into a facility. Now, if you wouldn't mind moving out of my light, I'm trying to get a suntan.'
You"'
Tanveer?'
The older woman spun around and saw Asad stepping around the end of the hedge. She immediately walked jerkily back the way she'd come, the two of them exchanging a terse word as they passed each other on the grass without stopping.
zoya took a long pull from her drink bottle and stood up as he came to a halt at the end of the sun lounger. He wore the same disreputable blue jeans that he had worn the day before, with battered workman's boots and a checked shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The decadent, city-dwelling Asad Ahmed Khan who wore expensive designer-casual with careless flair was nowhere in sight. Until you looked into his cynical eyes"then the rumpled, down-home, easygoing country-boy was revealed to be the sham. Or perhaps the double life he lived had actually split him off into two distinct personalities. In which case, both of them were in the doghouse with zoya!
She took off her sunglasses to blister him with her naked scorn. Next time do your own dirty work.'
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Anupamaa
Real Estate
127