KaYa SS: Expose: Ch 4 Part 2 on Page 21 Updated March 30 - Page 16

Guys,

And here's Part 2, not too far off the timeline I'd promised you.😃This part took longer than I expected, both because the characters and situations took a life of their own, and because in the midst of it all I fell ill. I am still unwell as I write this, but hope that this longer-than-usual chapter meets with your approval.

Enjoy!😃

Part 2

"Seems like a busy break from work - Basu for lunch, me for dinner, and Srinivasan waiting for dessert..." Kirit stroked the spine of a Casino Royale first edition on top of the pile on his table without breaking eye contact. They'd been studiously ignoring the elephant in the room up until now. Kirit had refrained from probing or asking questions and Kabir from volunteering information, preferring, instead, to focus their attentions on some of the rarest books Kabir had been privileged to experience first-hand.

True to his claim, Kirit had been unwrapping book after rare book for Kabir's inspection since they'd entered the library. Each, Kabir realised, would have fetched at least Rs 15 Lakh in an auction and who knew how much from a private collector.

But they both knew that the books were just an excuse; the bait for the trap to be sprung when the time was right.

And now it seemed that the time had come. "That's quite a line-up of news editors you've managed to round up. What's your secret?" Kirit leaned-in over the table and pinned Kabir with a laser stare.

Well he was direct at the very least, Kabir gave him that. But then, he'd expected no less. For all his refinement, Kirit was essentially just a thug, albeit a powerful one, who needed no reason to velvet glove the iron fist.

Kabir returned the stare easily. Not by a fraction did his smile slip. "My secret..." Kabir was just about to elaborate when the intercom rang.

Kirit snatched up the receiver from his desk and barked into it.

"I expressly asked not to be disturbed...what?...I see...No...I'll handle it."

Kirit's eyes, cold with displeasure when he'd picked up the phone, thawed during the brief conversation with an altogether different emotion that put Kabir's senses on high alert. What was it? He couldn't quite put his finger on Kirit's expression...no, not elation...satisfaction?...surely not...anticipation? He hoped to God Ananya was not the reason for the look in Kirit's eyes, but his mind was already racing with the possibilities.

Kirit replaced the intercom and started re-wrapping the Casino Royale with care.

"I never realised you were such a fan of Fleming. Or is it James Bond that interests you?" Kabir made small talk to buy time while he figured it out.

Kirit slanted an impatient glance at Kabir, his hands not slackening a whit in their task.

"Fleming, Nabokov...what does it matter? But for their market value, they're just kindling for my fireplace. Now I'm afraid, I have to take your leave. I've been called away on some...trifling matter that demands my personal attention, but feel free to stay here and look through my collection - it is quite discerning, I'm told."

And that quickly Kabir was dismissed. From then on he might as well have been invisible for all the attention Kirit paid him as he returned the books to the safe behind the section of the bookshelf. Kabir heard the door click and the pings of the passcode.

He covered a yawn. "Actually, I think I'll head up to my room myself. It's been a long day."

"In that case, I'll wish you a good night."

Kirit pressed a button under his desk, and gave the answering footman instructions, too softly for Kabir to hear. "He'll escort you to your room," he threw at Kabir as he walked out of the library, leaving Kabir cursing under his breath as he 'allowed' the well-built footman to lead him upstairs.

xxx

Perhaps the bedside drawer would yield better results. Ananya quickly slid it open.

"Looking for something, Ms Kashyap?"

Ananya managed to swallow the yelp but couldn't quite conceal the start she gave at being caught in the act. Composing her face into appropriate lines, she turned around, a hand clapped to her chest.

"Oh, you startled me!" The nervous laugh was easy to manufacture.

Kirit's eyes slithered over her, and stopped predictably in the region of her cleavage, making Ananya fiercely glad that she'd waited to pull on a towelling robe over her night clothes. Unless he had x-ray vision, Kirit would have no success penetrating that layer.

Undismayed, he swaggered towards Ananya, invading her personal space, and stopping only when his shoes touched her clogs.

This close, Ananya felt the full force of his narrow-eyed scrutiny, and took an involuntary step back only to come up against the bedframe.

"Well? I thought you had a headache? What are you doing in my bedroom?" It was the undercurrent to the hostility emanating from him that made the fine hair stand on the back of her neck.

"Your bedroom? Oh my!" Ananya affected wide-eyed surprise, and looked around the room afresh. "Oh my! Of course it's your room - it's so...soo grand. I'm sorry for barging in! Really! I had no idea! Silly me! Must be my headache medicine making me too drowsy to think straight. But I couldn't possibly sleep until I let my neighbour, Mrs Gupta, know I was fine. She knows I'm away from home and I told her I'd call in every day. She worries about me, the dear thing. And who knows what she'd do if I didn't call. Now that she can't check with the KKN, she might even call the police..." Ananya paused to let that message sink in. "...and for some reason my cell isn't working."

She ratcheted up the sense of injury in her babbling so that she ended on the offensive. She swiped the screen of her mobile so that it lit up and showed the absence of any coverage bars.

"See, no reception."

So far so good: her excuse was the truth - not the whole truth, but as close to it as she dared. Kirit wouldn't expect that. She pressed her advantage.

"I tried everywhere in my room, and it was useless. So I thought I'd try the corridor, you know, see if there was better reception, or a landline, or something. And that's what I've been doing for so long now," she looked accusingly at Kirit. "For so long, I've been searching for a phone, and I can't find it...not one phone in sight."

She dug her heels in, her body taut with indignation, as she waited for Kirit's reaction.

"You could have asked your maid and she'd have known where to find one." The tone was sharp, but the hostility had ebbed.

"You know what," Ananya admitted, "you're right. I would have, but she'd left by the time I remembered and I didn't want to bother her. But I couldn't go to sleep until I called in. So what else could I do?"

"In that case, call you must."

And with a swift movement Kirit pulled out a concealed drawer built into his bed and thrust at Ananya a white and gold telephone complete with the spin dial of yore.

"Here you go! You wanted a phone, and here it is. Do you know how to work it, or would you like me to dial for you?" He watched her a little too keenly.

"Oh no, I'd love to try it." All lit up with gratitude, Ananya sat herself down on the bed between the phone and Kirit, and bent over the dial, her fingers spinning the number, and speaking to the voice that answered.

"Yes I am fine aunty. Please don't worry. I've called in as I promised. All well? Good. I'll call again tomorrow. Goodnight!"

"There," Ananya flashed Kirit a grateful smile. "Now I can sleep." She yawned and swayed as though with sleep.

"Good! I wouldn't want anything to disturb your sleep. Are you sure you can make it back to your room...You look ready to fall asleep. Perhaps, you'd better stay put. It's a magnificent bed, don't you think, and you'd sleep like a princess. I can guarantee that."

And in a lightning move that she hadn't foreseen, before she could so much as squeak a protest, Kirit pushed her shoulders down and pinned her to the bed for a moment.

Stunned, Ananya reacted reflexively, raising her hands to shove Kirit off her, struggling simultaneously to rise from the snow-soft mattress that gave her no leverage whatsoever. But Kirit had moved on, transferring his grip to her ankles, which he lifted on to the bed so that Ananya, who had finally managed to sit up, lost her balance and fell back down again. And then instead of letting go, Kirit's hands tightened around her ankles. After a moment, he separated them.

That was when Anaya's fury finally broke its leash.

So that when Kirit, mistaking her quiescence for submission, released his grip on her ankles, he was struck in the back by the solid weight of his classic white and gold telephone hurled with all the force Ananya could muster.

And in the blink of an eye the positions reversed: so that now it was Kirit who sprawled face down on his feather-soft bed while Ananya loomed over him, her hair rioting around her head, her face and body broadcasting one, single, blood-thirsty intent.

That was how Kabir found them.

He'd had no choice but to return to his room and stay there, with his burly 'escort' refusing to budge from his post outside. Unable to leave from the front door, Kabir had gone out the back through the French windows on to the balcony, and vaulted over into Ananya's balcony to check her room. Not finding her in it had confirmed his suspicion that she was in trouble.

Unable to check Ananya's or Kirit's whereabouts inside the house, he'd searched outside. He'd returned to Ananya's balcony to look for clues, and seen the light. Seen the strip of light from the last window in their row, where the curtains remained askew, streaming through the dark night like the beacon of a lighthouse. And like the ship it called, he'd simply made his way to the light, clambering over all the intervening balconies, trying a succession of glass doors until he found one that was unlocked. He'd re-entered the corridor quietly, staying close to the wall, and slipped into the door that corresponded to the location of the light.

And found Ananya standing by the bed, every line, curve, and curl ablaze with rage, while Kirit sprawled before her face-down on the bed.

Kabir's face tightened as he took in the scene before him and read the subtext. Swallowing down a string of choice curses, and the almost uncontrollable urge to beat the life out of Kirit, he reacted before either party could draw breath.

"There you are, Ms Kashyap!"

His cheerful voice was like a bucket of cold water dashed over two feuding animals.

"I was about to send out a search party."

He advanced on Ananya, grabbed her hand and was pulling her towards the door before she could so much as form a thought.

"Come on now," he scolded, retreating from the bed. "Kirit's a busy man and looks like he needs his rest. See, he's almost asleep. Whatever it is can wait till the morning. Sorry to disturb you, Kirit. Good night!"

He caught a glimpse of Kirit rolling over on the bed but they were already out of his suite and in the corridor.

"You know, darling, how I need to see you last thing at night, and still you kept me waiting..." He threw an arm around Ananya's unyielding shoulders and towed her towards her room.

She might crucify him for taking liberties later, but right now he needed to lock her down tight. They simply could not afford another false move now, be it from Ananya or from him. And so he sweated as he reined in his bloodlust - because God knew how much he wanted to dismember Kirit - and kept up a light, flirtatious patter that drowned out any sound she might make.

She listened without reaction. And that in itself spoke volumes. But it wasn't going to last. Another time he'd feel concerned, but right now he blessed the silence. They'd just about reached her room - and out of the corner of his eye Kabir could see the footman outside his room do a double-take, stare in disbelief, and dart inside his room to check if what he was seeing was really the truth - when he felt her shock crumble, and reaction set in.

"Did you see..." Ananya began in a shaking voice.

"Oh yes the books were superb."

Kabir touched two fingers to his temple in a mock salute to the hapless footman, pushed the door to Ananya's room open, dragged her in, and slammed it shut behind them.

"What?" Ananya stared blankly at him, struggling to think past the fog of fury that had clouded her brain ever since Kirit had touched her.

"Here." Kabir led her into the spacious bathroom, clicked the door close, flicked on the shower and turned to her.

"We can talk now... Are you alright, Ms Kashyap?" Finally, the cheerful mask dropped, and Ananya saw the concern that creased his forehead and the strain in his eyes.

"Is everything okay?" He repeated, when she took a while to reply. "Did he hurt you? Talk to me, Ms Kashyap. What did he do?" His words tumbled over one another even as his eyes skittered over her to assure himself that she was unharmed.

"That bas***d!" Ananya's fingers clenched into fists, and she took a step towards the door then checked herself. "If you hadn't entered when you did I would have killed him..." She told him how her encounter had played out "...And now I'm personally going to make sure he pays." If she'd been determined when she set out on this adventure, now Ananya's intent was unshakeable.

Kabir was white-faced. It took a conscious exertion of will to make the red mist fade, to calm the thundering of the pulse in his ears as adrenaline flooded his system. He drew in a few deep breaths and closed his eyes. When he opened them they were clean of all but purpose.

"Okay Ms Kashyap. This is what we are going to do from now on..." He outlined the plan, and overrode her many objections at her strictly-curtailed role in it. "...That's the only way we stay on here. One step out of line and you leave. And I mean it Ms Kashyap. No more verbal baiting Kirit, or over-reacting, or courting danger. You're going to fly under the radar until we've got what we came for. Understood?"

She canted her face away, her body tense with rejection. But she wasn't getting away with it - her safety was way too important, and he needed her to understand that he wouldn't compromise on it. So he cupped her face, turned it to him, and held her steady. Then leaned in.

She was going under, Ananya realized, but cared not a whit. The graze of his calloused hands on her face was already stirring her senses. And now his heat and musk washed over her in intoxicating waves so that her nostrils flared as she drank him in and her eyelids fluttered closed.

"Miss Kashyap."

The soft exhale feathered over her lips like a lover's kiss. She couldn't have stopped them parting if she'd wanted.

"Do you understand, Miss Kashyap?"

One errant thumb grazed over a flushed cheekbone and trailed up the steep rise to the corner of her eye, as if to nudge the recalcitrant lid up.

"Ananya..."

The slow rasp of her name on his lips resonated against nerve endings deep within.

By degrees, she lifted her lids and was caught and held by the molten heat in his eyes.

"Kabir..."

His name was a breath. But he heard it; heard his name on those sassy, luscious lips. And then saw the tip of her tongue lave her bottom lip as if to taste it.

The world faded, deadened, stood still. The world was Ananya's moist, succulent lips with his name on them.

He claimed them.

It was the most natural thing in the world: melding his mouth to hers. They fit perfectly as he'd known they would. He held still for a moment savouring that first touch, the first taste, and let the sensation storm through him. And then dove in. His lips closed around her soft bottom lip and tasted it - all of it, every soft millimetre of it; he drew it into his mouth and suckled it, and then nipped gently even as his tongue soothed, tasted, learnt ... He'd never get enough, but he turned his attention to her upper lip.

"Kabir..."

His name was a moan that ratcheted up his thirst. He drank it in, drank her in, like a man offered water after days, no, months. He couldn't get enough of her taste. He dragged his teeth over her plump upper lip, using his tongue to soften the bite. Then pressed the tip of his tongue against the seam of her lips until she parted them to allow him in. He would be gentle, he promised himself as he angled his mouth over hers and stroked his tongue over the sharp ridges of her teeth and up against her sensitive palate, and then shuddered along with her at how good it felt. He'd go slow, and linger...

And then Ananya's fingers tightened in his hair and she tugged hard. It wasn't just his scalp that tingled. She disentangled their mouths, but just long enough to gulp in a breath, and then returned with an ardour all her own. Now it was her turn to sip at his smile, taste the corners of his mouth, to trace the chiselled lines and notches, and to tease the shallows and the stubble, to push past his formidable control to taste the delights hidden.

A fever like never before coursed through his veins, rising yet another notch with every touch of Ananya's wicked mouth, every tug of his hair, every scrunch of his collar. His legendary control was a pile of ashes.

He needed more. Much more. All of her. He cupped the weight of her breast through the towelling robe, even as his other hand tried to slip the knot.

"Ms Kashyap?"

The bathroom door-knob rattled.

Kabir and Ananya sprang apart, aghast as realisation dawned. They'd been so absorbed in each other they'd been blind and deaf to all else, including Kirit's approach.

"Miss Kashyap? Ananya? Are you in there."

The door-knob rattled harder this time.

A look of alarm tinged heavily with anger zinged between them.

"Quick, pass me the towel."

Kabir was ripping off his shirt with utter disregard for the buttons. He grabbed the towel that Ananya held out to him, and wrapped it around his waist, even as he toed-off his shoes.

His chest and shoulders rippled with muscles, much more than she'd imagined, and a smattering of tight curls spanned his flat, hard, nipples and arrowed down from his navel to disappear under the margins of the white towel into the trousers.

"Do you need help with the trousers?"

He paused in his exertions under the towel, to pin her with a look. She tried for innocence but being Ananya couldn't quite pull it off. The corners of his mouth quivered, and then stilled.

"I'll take a rain check on that offer." His eyes promised retribution, even as his hands emerged with the trousers. "But now you can help by jumping in the shower and remaining there until I come for you."

And dashing a couple of handsful of water all over his chest and shoulders, he walked to the door.

Ends

A/N: So how was it guys? Enjoyed it? What works for you? Share your thoughts please, it encourages me to write on.