Page 31 of Driven By Desire
Krish grinned, “Always.”
“Cream lace.”
The blood drained out of his brain and pooled in his pants as the meaning of that seductive whisper sank in. Laughing with delight at the stunned surprise on his face, she blew him a farewell kiss, flashed one last brilliant smile and walked out.
---***---
Bumper to bumper traffic, manic motorcyclists who wove through it like cokeheads looking for their next fix and the incessant clanging and banging of the ongoing underground cable work happening by the side of the road had Krish crawling home from work. Rotating his neck once to relieve the crick in it, he mentally ran through his list of things to finish this evening.
He had the proposal on the new factory to review, dinner to start if there wasn’t enough in the fridge to microwave and to take charge of Pooja, who was by Adi’s latest report still feverish and cranky. She had quarterly exams coming up in a week and he had the dubious distinction of being the long division champ in the family. So hopefully she would be up to a little bit of studying.
Even as he worked his way through his never-ending to-do list, thoughts of Max wove through his mind like the silver lining tothe dark cloud of chores. Max sleeping in his office, smiling at him over the most ridiculously large bunch of flowers, flashing him a wicked smile as she left with that tantalizing murmur of ‘cream lace.’
She would have finished for the day and left already. Rubbing a hand absently against his chest at the pang that manifested at the thought of not getting a chance to see her, he put his mind to finding a private moment to call her. To hearing that husky voice that haunted his dreams these days
Scrubbing a hand over his face, he stared at the line of cars stretching in front of him and sighed. Maybe it was time to think of hiring a driver. Much as he loved to drive, he was finding the traffic a formidable opponent.
Mind still working, he smiled at the memory of Mrs. Sharma’s blatant approval of Max. She’d been his one constant at work in all these years of turmoil and change. He’d always known that not everyone in the top management approved of the young scion stepping into his father’s shoes without the requisite experience to handle the sheer scope of work and responsibility that had rested on his then young shoulders.
His first day, he’d walked in, shaking in his freshly polished shoes to find that along with everything else he’d also inherited his father’s secretary. A veritable dragon who’d breathed fire at him when he’d intruded on her domain as a child, she’d looked at him over the top of her glasses and said, “Welcome, Mr. Mehra.”
“Krish,” he’d mumbled, mentally wincing as he remembered all the times she’d called him a juvenile delinquent or worse.
“Mr. Mehra,” she repeated firmly before adding, “Stand up straight.” Automatically straightening his shoulders at the clipped instruction, he’d followed her into the conference room to find the elite of the company lined up to welcome him.
No, he hadn’t been welcomed warmly but he’d worked like a demon to earn the place he’d inherited. There wasn’t a single human being today who could claim that he didn’t deserve to be where he was. And through it all, he’d stood up straight. Smiling now at the memory, he flipped on his indicator and eased through a miniscule gap in the traffic. Another hour, countless muttered curses and several fantasies that involved cream lace underwear later, he finally made it home.
Yanking his briefcase out of the car, he walked into the house and into a world he hadn’t known could exist. He found Pooja and Adi huddled at the dining table over what looked like her school books. He blinked to dispel the mirage but it stayed firmly in focus. When he walked further into the room the two looked up at him and smiled. SMILED. They were smiling in the middle of homework!
Smiling tentatively back at the apparitions, he replied to their cheerful greeting. “Hi. Where’s Chirag?”
“Taking a conference call in his room.”
“Okay.” Skirting them, he made his way to the staircase. “I’ll just have a quick shower and start dinner.”
“Dinner’s ready.”
Freezing with his foot on the bottom step, Krish turned slowly. “It is?”
“Yup.” With that single syllable, Adi bent his head to Pooja’s notebook again. Shaking his head bemusedly, Krish made his way to his bedroom. Switching the light on, he grabbed a pair of shorts from the cupboard and made his way to the bathroom. A brief shower later, he yanked his shorts on and scrubbed a hand through his damp hair. Time to summon the troops to dinner.
Dropping his towel in the laundry hamper, he walked out. He’d almost made it to the door when a glint of silver foil caught his eye. Turning, he walked back to the bed. A single, tiny Hershey’s kiss sat in the middle of his pillow. Grinning, he picked it up and slipped it into his pocket. Grabbing his phone, he dialed Max’s number only to get a recorded message telling him it was switched off. Making a mental note to try again later, he left the room and reached the dining room to find the other three already seated at the dining table. Okay, enough of the Twilight Zone.
“What’s going on?”
Three identical expressions of fake innocence stared back at him. Biting his cheek to keep from smiling, he pulled up a chair and sat.
“You’re not wearing a shirt.”
The announcement had him raising his eyebrow and looking across at Chirag. “So? You suddenly have a problem with that?”
When he only shrugged, Krish looked over at the other two who did nothing to conceal their grins. Wondering what the hell was going on, he opened his mouth to ask again when he heard the jangle of bracelets.
“Dinner is ready!” Shouldering her way in from the kitchen, Max carried a covered platter in one hand and a jug of what lookedlike orange juice. She couldn’t wait to see the surprise on Krish’s face. Turning with a wide grin, she glanced over only to see taut, firm, muscled flesh. A lot of it. The platter wobbled dangerously even as she took a deep breath to try and control her suddenly careening emotions.
Shock kept Krish immobilized which was a good thing or he would have been scrambling up the stairs for his t-shirt like an outraged virgin. Clenching his fists so he didn’t smack his idiotic, grinning brothers, he swallowed hard and stood.
“Can I help you with that?” Gently prying the precariously balanced platter from Max’s hands, he glanced down at her. Eyes glazed, cheeks flushed she didn’t seem to have heard his words. Even as he watched, she swallowed and her tongue flicked out to wet her lips. Mentally groaning, he grabbed the jug from her as well and spun around. Striving for casual, he asked, “So, what’s for dinner?”
