searched her out after the couple left. “Mira,” he said, “let’s slip away from here.”
She looked at him questioningly.
“Come,” he said and pulled her by her hand.
“Come Mira” He said, She liked the way he said
“Mira” there was a sort of lilt to it, She demurely followed him.
She had not changed and was still in her bridesmaid dress.
“I have to change,” she said.
He shook his head and without a word led her outside. It was a chilly evening; the western sky was splashed with the red hue of the setting sun. He took his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders, leading her gently across the grass to the farthest end of the grounds. Miranda was finding it difficult to walk across the damp, soggy grounds. Her high heels were getting stuck. He picked her up and literally carried her to the farthest end of the grassy verge. She started to giggle. He put her down, lifted her chin up with one hand, and bent down and kissed her.
“I have been wanting to do this since yesterday,” he whispered in her ear. His kiss became very ardent, demanding, and Miranda felt her mouth being opened forcefully by his probing tongue. She gave in and felt completely limp in his tight embrace.
“Oh, Mira, Mira,” Derek muttered in a hoarse whisper. “I have missed you. Oh, how I have missed you.” Kissing her ardently. She felt desire emanating from him.
Desire was killing her too.
His hands slowly moved down and lifted her dress up. He wanted her desperately.
Suddenly she cried out, “No!” as she pushed him away from her. “No,” she said again.
“Just stop it.”
Her eyes flashed with anger and in a strong and angry voice, she blurted out, “You can’t just come back and use me, Derek.” Her eyes blazed, her lips quivered. “You didn’t even bother to call me. I am not a pushover. Why didn’t you call me? What do you take me for?” She took her shoes off and started to run across the grounds toward the hotel. Tears stung her eyes before streaming down her face. She was nearly choking. She wanted to go to her room and be alone.
He stood there rooted to the ground, his gaze transfixed on her receding back. It was the first time in his life that an incident of this nature had occurred to him. He felt ashamed, humiliated, and dumbfounded.
He was angry, so very angry. His blazing eyes bore into her back until she had disappeared from sight. He felt insulted. No woman had ever rejected him. She had pushed him away. What gall!
She walked up to the front desk to get her keys with her head held high. Her shoes were still in her hands and Derek’s jacket was still draped over her shoulders. She realized that she was wearing Derek’s jacket when she reached her massive beautifully furnished room. “Blast!” she said to herself. “Let him miss his jacket. After all, he is so rich one jacket will not make a difference!”
She knew she would have to face him again in two days’ time at the Indian wedding. She groaned just thinking about it.
After a restless night and an early breakfast she and her mother left for London. Molly was not fooled. Her daughter looked awful. She looked as if she had not slept the whole night. Her eyes were puffyand she had no makeup on. She looked pale and had black rings under her eyes.
Miranda’s Mini pulled into the gravel drive in front of the porch. She had felt a little shy asking the porter to bring around her little car; compared to the other expensive cars, hers looked extremely out of place.
“What do I care?” she thought to herself.
Turning around in the passenger seat Molly saw a familiar tall figure standing at the entrance of the hotel looking very forlorn and dejected. His hand went up, and he waved good-bye. Molly reciprocated and waved back. Just at that moment Miranda also saw him in the rearview mirror. She ignored him and sped out of the hotel toward London. The exhaust throttled with so much sudden angry pressure on the accelerator!
She was
She looked at him questioningly.
“Come,” he said and pulled her by her hand.
“Come Mira” He said, She liked the way he said
“Mira” there was a sort of lilt to it, She demurely followed him.
She had not changed and was still in her bridesmaid dress.
“I have to change,” she said.
He shook his head and without a word led her outside. It was a chilly evening; the western sky was splashed with the red hue of the setting sun. He took his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders, leading her gently across the grass to the farthest end of the grounds. Miranda was finding it difficult to walk across the damp, soggy grounds. Her high heels were getting stuck. He picked her up and literally carried her to the farthest end of the grassy verge. She started to giggle. He put her down, lifted her chin up with one hand, and bent down and kissed her.
“I have been wanting to do this since yesterday,” he whispered in her ear. His kiss became very ardent, demanding, and Miranda felt her mouth being opened forcefully by his probing tongue. She gave in and felt completely limp in his tight embrace.
“Oh, Mira, Mira,” Derek muttered in a hoarse whisper. “I have missed you. Oh, how I have missed you.” Kissing her ardently. She felt desire emanating from him.
Desire was killing her too.
His hands slowly moved down and lifted her dress up. He wanted her desperately.
Suddenly she cried out, “No!” as she pushed him away from her. “No,” she said again.
“Just stop it.”
Her eyes flashed with anger and in a strong and angry voice, she blurted out, “You can’t just come back and use me, Derek.” Her eyes blazed, her lips quivered. “You didn’t even bother to call me. I am not a pushover. Why didn’t you call me? What do you take me for?” She took her shoes off and started to run across the grounds toward the hotel. Tears stung her eyes before streaming down her face. She was nearly choking. She wanted to go to her room and be alone.
He stood there rooted to the ground, his gaze transfixed on her receding back. It was the first time in his life that an incident of this nature had occurred to him. He felt ashamed, humiliated, and dumbfounded.
He was angry, so very angry. His blazing eyes bore into her back until she had disappeared from sight. He felt insulted. No woman had ever rejected him. She had pushed him away. What gall!
She walked up to the front desk to get her keys with her head held high. Her shoes were still in her hands and Derek’s jacket was still draped over her shoulders. She realized that she was wearing Derek’s jacket when she reached her massive beautifully furnished room. “Blast!” she said to herself. “Let him miss his jacket. After all, he is so rich one jacket will not make a difference!”
She knew she would have to face him again in two days’ time at the Indian wedding. She groaned just thinking about it.
After a restless night and an early breakfast she and her mother left for London. Molly was not fooled. Her daughter looked awful. She looked as if she had not slept the whole night. Her eyes were puffyand she had no makeup on. She looked pale and had black rings under her eyes.
Miranda’s Mini pulled into the gravel drive in front of the porch. She had felt a little shy asking the porter to bring around her little car; compared to the other expensive cars, hers looked extremely out of place.
“What do I care?” she thought to herself.
Turning around in the passenger seat Molly saw a familiar tall figure standing at the entrance of the hotel looking very forlorn and dejected. His hand went up, and he waved good-bye. Molly reciprocated and waved back. Just at that moment Miranda also saw him in the rearview mirror. She ignored him and sped out of the hotel toward London. The exhaust throttled with so much sudden angry pressure on the accelerator!
She was
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