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Maharaja's mistress MG ch 7 prt 1 pg 83 25/03 (Page 11)

sona-rai IF-Sizzlerz
sona-rai
sona-rai

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Posted: 08 March 2011 at 3:07am | IP Logged
lovely FF yaar loved it thanks for PMBig smile

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-Premeena-

-Veritaserum- IF-Rockerz
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Posted: 08 March 2011 at 5:40am | IP Logged
Nice part... loved it

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bhanu_rekhag IF-Stunnerz
bhanu_rekhag
bhanu_rekhag

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Posted: 08 March 2011 at 8:25am | IP Logged
AWESOME

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-afsha- IF-Sizzlerz
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Posted: 08 March 2011 at 11:13am | IP Logged
Nice update

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SaJan-SaJan Goldie
SaJan-SaJan
SaJan-SaJan

Joined: 24 April 2010
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Posted: 08 March 2011 at 12:50pm | IP Logged
hi...
came across ur ff....
loved d updates....
wud luv 2 read more...
plz add me in ur pm list..
thnx..

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felicitysmoak. IF-Stunnerz
felicitysmoak.
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Posted: 08 March 2011 at 2:15pm | IP Logged
awesome update
loved it
cant wait till they meet
cant wait 4 da next part
con soon
thanks 4 da pm

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ibelieveinpink IF-Stunnerz
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Posted: 08 March 2011 at 2:25pm | IP Logged
Update please!!!

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-Premeena- Goldie
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Posted: 08 March 2011 at 2:59pm | IP Logged

Chapter two

Memories and anxiety
 
Life had never failed to surprise Maan. Geet Handa turning up out of the blue took him right back to his days at boarding school in England when he'd been vastly attracted to the chaotic lifestyle of the Handas. As he'd been brought up by servants, a family home, however disorganized, had seemed like heaven to him, and when Brij had invited him back in the holidays Geet had always been the main attraction—constantly playing tricks on him, when everyone back home treated him like a god.

But there was a puzzle here. He and Brij had kept in touch, but Brij never mentioned his sister and he had never asked. He and Brij had always respected each other's confidences, and though he had often wondered about Geet, he hadn't wanted to pry into her life. Yet she was here in Monte Carlo, offering to be his co-driver—

Could he accept Geet's offer?

And open Pandora's box?

Geet was his best friend's baby sister and therefore untouchable, but there had always been a spark between them. Back in the day that had manifested itself as a constant taunting, bickering—but now…

Geet was all grown up. And he was experienced enough to know that if some fire existed between them—and this conversation seemed to suggest that it did—that persistent little spark could flare into an inferno—

Since when did he draw back from playing with fire?

This time he should—

And maybe he didn't want to.

Sex… was never far from his mind, and he couldn't pretend he hadn't imagined taming the wildcat when they'd been younger. Geet's unaffected charm—her spirit, her quirky, contrary, upbeat nature—had always been enough to goad him to the point of distraction, and when the explosion came he fully expected the result to be everything it promised to be—

Which was why he must never touched her…

But it didn't hurt to meet for a drink. Plus Geet had always been one of the sharpest tools in the box and he could use a keen pair of eyes reading the route for him tomorrow. He might consider using her. Why not? He didn't want to pull out of the race at this last stage so he couldn't afford to be proud. And having won the junior section of several world class rallies certainly put Geet Handa in with a shout.

____

Monte Carlo equaled more, Geet mused, taking a deep breath as she prepared to start work at the glamorous hair-dressing salon—more money, more glamour, more security, more everything. Definetly more intrigue than anywhere else on earth.

Which she would be adding to tonight when she met Maan—

When she met Maan…the Maharaja…

The man everyone was talking about. It hardly seemed possible. And what would her old childhood friend make of her new persona? She'd always been a bit of an oddball when it came to fashion, but her most recent look was what you might call a bit of a change from lollipops and pigtails…

As she examined her reflection in the mirror Geet remembered the day she had breezed into Monsieur Michel's salon to ask for a job. The canny old survivor had quickly guessed she had no qualifications in the hair-dressing industry. She was only lucky that her noble sounding name had got her foot in the door. It turned out that Monsieur's troubled early life had left him with a weakness for the sort of eccentric folk who bumbled along the best they could in genteel poverty as geet's parents always had. Geet would be his meet-and-greet-girl, monsieur had declared, removing a stroke of any possibility of an amateur snipping dead ends from his duchesses.

Monsieur, instead of turning his face away from geet's injuries, which she dreaded—or gushing over her, which was almost worse—the eccentric proprietor of Monte Carlo's most glamorous beauty salon had promptly renamed her Arabella, the terror of the seas after the infamous pirate queen, Arabella Drummond insisting Geet ditch her healthy scheme patch and adopt the jeweled creation he had specially created for her.

The novelty of wearing a costume, of which the eye patch was a small part, held an immediate appeal. She hadn't known such fabulous outfits existed, or could be made. Her dark, spiky hair lent itself to dramatic make-up Monsieur had insisted—sympathetically leaving out the fact that it also helped to cover her scars. So now she wore a big gold hoop in one ear, tiny leather hot pants and thigh high leather boots, while an important looking pad and pen hung in a pouch from the studded leather belt she wore slung low on her hips.

Like all his staff, Geet adored her eccentric employer and knew Monsieur Michel's only purpose was to make everyone feel welcome under his roof. He gave her the sort of non-judgemental friendship Geet badly needed. The accident that had left her scarred and blind in one eye had led to six months of hell in rehabilitation and had rocked her self-belief to the foundations. It had taken time to rebuild her life and she hadn't done so quietly. She could never do that, she always had to walk on red-hot coals just to know she was alive. She had come here, to the most glamorous principality on earth, where the language was French and the currency was good looks or money—and as she had neither, she wasn't exactly off to a good start—but she had reasoned that if she could make it here she could make it anywhere, and monsieur Michel had helped her to make that happen.

Geet would be the first to admit that her new look was 'in your face'. It flaunted the fact that she was injured. There was nothing remotely apologetic about it. So she had a duff eye. So what? This was who she chose to be now. She had never been pretty, but at least now she had something that set her apart. Arabella Drummond? Dead-eyed Tic, more like, Geet thought wryly as a muscle jumped in her damaged cheek.

Picking up a copy of that day's newspaper, she glanced one last time at the front-page photograph of Maan. With perfect irony, he was one of the best-looking men in the world. But there was a definite improvement, she decided studying the picture intently. Perhaps it was the air of danger surrounding him… Maan wasn't even in his prime yet but he was clearly having fun getting there. Any sensible woman would run a mile…

Which was why she would be meeting with him tonight…

' no more mirror-time. you look beautiful, Cherie, and clients are waiting.

Monsieur's arrival meant Maan had to go on the back burner for the time being—not his seat of choice, but she had to concentrate on her duties, which wasn't going to be easy with the Maharaja in town.

___

The trouble with Maan's rally car was sorted out sooner than expected. He took a shower and changed, and then his thoughts turned to meeting Geet. Why not bring the appointment forward? There had been far too many simpering, low-fat milk sops in his life recently. Wasn't it time to take a walk on the wild side and eat some clotted cream? Geet had never made life easy for him and he was bored with easy.

Geet and he hadn't parted on the best of terms. The last time he'd seen Geet had been at  Brij's engagement party when he had already known that his fate was cast in stone. He was to return to Delhi and take part in an arranged marriage. It was how things were done—

How things used to be done.

He'd bought Geet a dress in Paris—a goodbye gift totally over the top, he realized now. In hindsight, the gift seemed little more than a crass attempt to soften the words when he told Geet he was leaving to get married and take up his place in a world she could never be a part of. A crass attempt at telling Geet he loved her and would always love her, but he had to give her up without ever really knowing her.

While they'd packed the dress he'd had a vision of one last dream night together. He'd been young then. He was cynical now and couldn't believe he hadn't considered the possibility that their dream night would go wrong from start to finish.

But that was then and this was now. And he was eaten up by curiosity. There were so many blank spaces to fill in between that night and this.

Monte Carlo was so much more than a race track, Maan reflected as he walked the short distance to Geet's place of work. It was also a place where Geet was beginning to feel at home, he gathered. Five star plus suited her? It had never used to. Geet had always been dismissive of pomp and ceremony and all in favor of keeping it real. So what was she doing on the French Riviera where dreams were made of money? Or tinsel.

What wasn't Geet telling him?

He'd soon find out.

Perching on the staffroom window still eating a doughnut during her break, Geet had almost managed to convince herself that with this type of view she could forget Maan—

Well that was a laugh. Staring at another flawless blue sky was bliss, but it was overshadowed by a pair of mocking eyes. Was she up to this? She stared unseeing out of the window. Maybe she'd go to the beach later to chill out in readiness for meeting Maan. Maan would never go on a public beach, though the beach was fabulous. You could dream there—You could be anyone you wanted to be. You didn't have to go onboard one of the zillionaires' yachts in order to feel special in Monte Carlo. In fact. There were far fewer complications if you decided not to go on board—

'You have a visitor Geet'

Geet's heart stopped dead. Monsieur Michel had just entered the staffroom. A visitor? There could only be one visitor. Who else knew she was in Monte Carlo?

'If you want I can send him away?' concern clouded Monsieur Michel's face as he came close enough to see the shock on Geet's face.

No—No, that's fine,' she said, licking the sugar off her fingers and rallying fast. 'ill see him.' Springing down from her perch, she rinsed her hands in the sink. She wasn't going to turn this premature visit into a drama. Better to face Maan and get it over with. She wasn't a child to be overawed by him.

No, Geet mused, catching sight of herself in a full- length mirror as she left the room. She was hardly Miss Sugar and Spice these days.

heyy guyyss... finally a loong update..Big smile

liked it!?!?Tongue

hmm soo what do you guys think of maan and geet's relationship so far??
do leave lots of comments...!!LOL
 
next: 'Geet' There was shock in his voice.
 
Love,
Zamee<3
 

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