I DIDN’T MARRY YOU SWARA….(episode 11)

THANKS FOR YOUR COMMENTS LET’S CONTINUE…….

It would have been a great weekend, Laksh thought, with Sanskar guaranteed to be gone,
except that he had this apology deal with Ragini to get over with on Sunday. Or at least
Laksh thought he’d get the apology over with on Sunday, but late Friday night he hit the
button on the answering machine in his bedroom and found out she was going to keep the
wretched thing hanging over his head — again.

“…so very sorry,” Ragini’s voice claimed, in her best high-society accent. “I
completely forgot about this luncheon I absolutely must attend on Sunday for the Head
Start Support Foundation. Really, I don’t know how it slipped my mind. So, please, let’s
set another day. Next week perhaps…” Her voice trailed off as she muttered a few other
inanities and said good-bye.
With one hand loosening his silk party tie, Laksh used the other to put a finger over the
stop button on the machine and slowly depress it. He could feel a muscle in his jaw clench.
She was putting it off — again.
He might not have minded, he might even have approved of Ragini’s delaying tactics
if it wasn’t looking more and more like his apology was going to be necessary.
Hell. Sanskar and Swara looked like they might actually take a stab at being married to
each other. His stuffy, uptight cousin had kissed her. Quite a smooch, if Sahil was to be
believed. And at dinner that night Swara had sounded far gone, like she was falling in love,
for heaven’s sake.

Laksh shook his head. Swara was either heading for one terrific drop or…she was going
to end up married, really married, to Sanskar.
The idea of Sanskar being permanently off the market and of the position in which that
placed Ragini caused all sorts of conflicting and unpleasant emotions to churn in Laksh’s
gut.
The more time that passed, the more difficult this apology was going to be.
He picked up the phone, about to call Ragini right then and there, about to demand
she not put him off again, when he realized it was well after midnight. Cursing under his
breath, he set the phone back down. He took a pace across the brown-gold carpet.
Perhaps it was just as well he couldn’t call her. He needed to think. He needed to plan
and strategize and come up with a guaranteed way to get Ragini to have this lunch date
with him. Laksh expelled a disgusted breath. Yes, he had to think.
Ragini had a way of forcing him to do that.

###

After a miserable weekend in Atlanta, Sanskar returned to Boston on Monday morning
knowing exactly what had to be done. He went straight from the airport to his office.
“Get Myers on the phone, would you?” he asked Mrs. Barnes as soon as he walked
through the door.
“Myers?” Mrs. Barnes looked up from her computer. “Your attorney?”
“That’s right. See if you can set up an appointment for today.”
“Yes of course, Mr. Singleton.”
Ah, Sanskar thought, a woman who listened and did what she was told. So…refreshing.
He continued through to his office, feeling good enough to whistle. The solution was so
easy he didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before.
Money. Everybody had his — or her — price. Sanskar chuckled. He wouldn’t be falling
down on his responsibility. Not if Swara took it. That would mean she was accepting
compensation, money for breach of promise. He’d be clear.
For the first time in countless days, Sanskar sat behind his desk, ready to work.
Mrs. Barnes buzzed. Sanskar pressed on the intercom. “Yes?”
“Would twelve-thirty do?” Mrs. Barnes asked. “Mr. Myers is completely booked, but
will take off lunch since it’s you.”
Sanskar smiled hard enough to hurt. “Twelve-thirty is fine. Tell him I’ll bring lunch.”
“Very good, sir.”
Sanskar released the intercom button and leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers.
This was so damnably simple. By one o’clock, one-thirty at the latest, all his problems
would be solved. He’d have Myers draw up a cash settlement, something not even Swara could refuse.
Yes, she would take the money.
And she’d be out of his life.
No more sighings over opera, no more fishing with bare hands. No more scary, outof-
this-universe kisses. Sanity. Whistling for real now, Sanskar separated his hands and bent over the papers on his desk.
Three hours of steady work later, Sanskar checked his watch. His eyebrows jumped, and
he smiled. Three solid hours. Yes, he had been ready to get back to business. He
straightened the papers on his desk and reached for his jacket. Mrs. Barnes buzzed.
Sanskar grimaced. Had Myers thought they were supposed to meet here? He pressed the
intercom. “Tell him I don’t have lunch yet.”
Mrs. Barnes ignored that. “Your wife is here,” she said.
Sanskar froze, his finger on the intercom. No. He hadn’t heard that. He hadn’t had a
chance to meet with Myers yet. He — he didn’t have the information necessary to strike a
deal.

“Mr. Singleton?” Mrs. Barnes said.
Sanskar realized he was going to have to do something. He straightened, took a deep
breath, and depressed the intercom button again.
“My wife?” He did his best to sound
casual. “Why, send her on in.” As if there was anything else he could do. God.
One second later, the door of his office opened. Swara sauntered in.
Every cell in Sanskar’s body jumped to electrical awareness. It was almost painful.
Almost.
“Well, hey,” Swara said, smiling.

Sanskar swallowed. He should have instructed Mrs. Barnes to make her wait, not that
time would have dulled her effect. Her smile alone — It could warm the North pole. And
then there was what she was wearing, one of those knit tops with spaghetti-thin straps, the
kind that show a woman’s bra straps. Only Swara wasn’t showing any bra straps.
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Swara sashayed in the direction of his desk. Her
skirt was short. Very short.
Sanskar was glad he was standing behind the desk, and that the desk was piled
sufficiently high with papers. It wouldn’t do for her to notice his immediate, and purely
physical, reaction.
He cleared his throat. “No, you’re not interrupting anything at all.” Except a meeting
to get rid of you. He raised his eyebrows. “What can I do for you?”
Her eyes laughed at him. “Oh. So polite. So helpful.” On the other side of his desk,
she came to a stop.
“Excuse me?” Sanskar tried to look innocent.
She wagged a finger. “You ran away.”
Despite his best efforts to the contrary, Sanskar could feel his face flush. “I — had to
get to our plant in Atlanta. It was an emergency.”
“Oh, I’m sure it was.” She rolled her eyes. “Since you finally broke down and kissed
me.”
Sanskar crushed his teeth together. He could still feel that kiss, its velvety excitement.

“Is there a reason you’re here, Swara?” As if he didn’t know. She was here to…sink her
claws into him. Well, he wasn’t going to let her. He was going to make his meeting with
Myers. They would concoct a plan to extract her claws.
She twisted to perch a hip on the corner of his desk.
“I’m here so you can make it up to me.”
She threw him a very naughty smile.
Sanskar tried to meet her gaze dispassionately, but his inner temperature spiked. It was
impossible not to fantasize exactly how she’d like him to ‘make it up.’ As calmly as he
could, he lifted his watch. “Ahem, maybe some other time. You see, I have an
appointment.”
She laughed. “Oh, no. I’m sorry Sanskar, but you can’t use that excuse again.”
Her face had come alive with her laugh, become radiant. Sanskar forced himself to
breathe. “It’s not an excuse.” Indeed, if he didn’t manage to get Swara out of his office
soon, he’d miss his chance to make sure she never ambushed him there again.
“It is an excuse, but I’ll tell you what.” Swara’s head tilted. “I’ll consider us quits if you
answer one question.”
Sanskar stared. That was it? One question? He didn’t believe she would make it this
easy, but asked, “What?”
To his surprise, her teasing gaze dropped. When she spoke, she sounded almost timid.
“Tell me, Sanskar, what was the hypnotic suggestion?”
He froze.
Swara looked up. “I always assumed it was — well, for you to go out and do
something embarrassing. But I asked Laksh and he said it wasn’t that, but he wouldn’t tell
me. He said it would have to come from you.” She gazed at Sanskar steadily.
Sanskar gazed right back, even though it seemed like all the air was leaving the room.
The hypnotic suggestion. He couldn’t answer her. Not truthfully. She’d make all kinds of
assumptions — false assumptions. Like they really were meant to stay together or that he
actually wanted to fall in love with her. He made himself breathe and his eyes narrowed.
“I’m afraid that information is…not forthcoming.”
“Not forthcoming?”
“I’m not going to tell you.”
This provoked a lengthy perusal from those witchy green eyes. “You mean,” she said
at last, “it’s too personal.”
Sanskar gave a curt nod.
Swara held her fortune-teller eyes on him a minute more, then lowered her gaze.
“Okay,” she said. “I guess I can understand that.”
Sanskar blinked. She could? She was going to back off? Not that he planned to stick
around and look a gift horse in the mouth. “Thank you,” he said stiffly, and began to come
around from behind his desk. “Then if you’ll excuse me, I really do have an appointment to
make.”
He thought he was going to get away, he really did. He was halfway to the door when
she stepped in front of him. She put a hand on his chest. “Not so fast.”
“Pardon?” Sanskar tried his best to look unworried, though his heart was beating very
fast beneath her hand.
“You didn’t answer my question.” The corners of Swara’s mouth curved. “So, now you
owe me.”
“I — what?”
“You owe me. Still. For running away the other day. So — ” She got a wicked
sparkle in her eye. “So no going to your appointment unless…you kiss me.”
“What?”
“You heard. Kiss me. Right here.” She tapped her lips.
Sanskar’s own lips parted. No way, no how. He wasn’t going to kiss her. It was exactly
the kind of activity — the dangerous kind — he was going to meet Myers to prevent.
“You don’t think you can do it.” Swara was arch.
“Of course I can do it.”
“Hmm, yes. You kiss very well.” Swara patted his tie. “But you couldn’t just kiss me
and stop there. Not any more.”
“What are you talking about?”
Her eyes flicked up at him. “Your famous self-control. You don’t have it with me.”
The look in her eyes sent a thrill through Sanskar. “Nonsense.” His own gaze averted.
“You are no different than any other woman.”
“Oh, really?” Her hand moved up his tie, lightly circling it. “Prove it.”
Sanskar swallowed. That thing she was doing with his tie made his knees feel weak, but
he could do it. He could kiss her, knowing it was a means to get out the door to meet
Myers, and that Myers was a means to get her out of his life altogether. “Fine,” he said.
“I’ll prove it.”
Triumph — or was it arousal — flashed across her face. Sanskar felt a simultaneous
fire blaze inside, but he could manage this. He did have the self-control.
Jaw clenched, he put one hand over hers. He moved it down from his tie. But that
didn’t really help. As she looked up at him he could feel heat spread from his center out to
his extremities. But, fine. That didn’t mean he was going to get carried away. He could
kiss her and stop at that. In fact, he could make it a very short kiss. He had that much
control.
He put his free hand on her cheek and bent his face to hers. They would touch lips, he
decided. That defined a kiss. And it wouldn’t be cowardly to leave it at that.
Simply…prudent. His face lowered. Mouth touched mouth.
At the contact of his flesh to hers an incredible sensation rushed through Sanskar. A
tidal wave, a volcano, a hurricane.
But still… He could pull back. He could stop there, as Swara had taunted him that he
couldn’t. Even against a hurricane he could maintain control. But Sanskar didn’t pull back.
His lips stayed pressed against Swara’s.
He waited for the hurricane to pass, but there was no attenuation. On the contrary,
the sensation grew wilder. More out of control. Sanskar felt his lips move against hers.
Oh, her lips were soft, pliant, amazingly giving beneath the savagery growing inside
him. Then she moaned.
It was the merest sound, like a kitten’s mew. But it made Sanskar breathe in hard and
feel even more barbaric. He moved closer. God, he couldn’t stop — feeling. It was —
overpowering. His grip on her tightened and his mouth got fierce.
Swara melted under this assault. Gulping in air, Sanskar squeezed her yet closer. His
hands moved up and down her back.
He needed to stop. This was getting completely out of hand. He felt positively ablaze.
But instead of stopping, he deepened the kiss, using his tongue. He slipped one hand
beneath her shirt.
“The door.” It was a hoarse whisper from Swara, only possible because Sanskar had
relinquished her mouth for her neck.
“Hmm?” Sanskar’s seeking fingers found the nip*le riding the softness of her br*ast.
That wonderful nip*le was taut and aroused, like himself.
“The door,” she croaked, arching backward. “It’s not locked.”
Sanskar’s busy fingers halted. The door, not locked. But — locking the door would
mean he was committed, that he was going to proceed with this madness. That he wasn’t
going to stop.
And he was going to stop…
In just a minute.
Meanwhile…he nipped her ear. She gasped. The sound, the way her body jerked in
response, pushed a roll of pleasure through him. He heard an animal sound come out of
his throat.
Stop, a voice whispered, very dim, and far away. Sanskar ignored it. He leaned back,
hitting his desk. But rather than distancing himself from Swara, he pulled her with him, hip
pressed to hip. In the moment of sway, while her shoulders were back, he pushed up her
shirt.
Her br*asts were a beautiful sight, aroused, as his fingers had discovered already, the
nip*les large and pink. Growling, Sanskar lowered his mouth.
She moaned again, louder than that kitten thing, and her fingers dug into his
shoulders. Sanskar couldn’t get enough of her. She tasted so good. He suckled hard, not the
delicate dance he usually played, tantalizing, in control. This was crazy, like wildfire,
ferocious.
She shoved her pelvis against him. “The door,” she said again, a soft wail.
Sanskar flailed back with one hand. The intercom. It took a minute to find the button, as
he refused to let his mouth leave Swara’s br*ast.
“Yes, Mr. Singleton?” Mrs. Barnes’ fluty tones swept into the room.
Sanskar forced his lips from Swara’s nip*le. “No interruptions.”
“Yes, Mr. — ” Mrs. Barnes’ voice cut off as Sanskar released his hand from the
intercom. He moved that hand to Swara’s rear.
“This is — ” Swara’s words ended on a groan as Sanskar palmed her bottom. Head
thrown back, she began circling her hips against his.
This was crazy, insane, but Sanskar was beyond caring. It had been building for some
time — from the moment she’d first burst through his conference room door three weeks
ago, in fact, and he was through fighting it. God help him but they were going to finish
this. Holding her hips close to his, he turned them both so that she was the one leaning
against the desk.
Swara understood what he wanted, parting her legs so she could wrap them around
him. Sanskar drew in a deep breath and took her mouth again. Tongue plundering, he leaned
her all the way down, her back flat on his desk. The Robertson report scattered. A pen
holder fell. As finely sharpened pencils rolled onto the floor, Sanskar put his hand under
Swara’s skirt.
Her panties, well, there was hardly anything to them. All he had to do was push a
scrap of lace to one side and there she was. A crisp curl of hair and then a wet and warm
softness.
“Sanskar!” Her whole body convulsed.
She was so wet, so hot and utterly inviting. And the way she responded — it was
beyond Sanskar’s experience. A woman needed more than what he was giving her, which
was simply him taking whatever he wanted. He should slow down, behave like a
gentleman, but she opened her legs and shoved against him. He gasped against her mouth.
She liked this. She wanted more.
He nipped the edge of her jaw, then sucked on her neck. Meanwhile his finger flicked
gently, making her jerk. At her responsive motion, Sanskar couldn’t let his mouth linger at
her neck, though he should have. He should have prolonged the pleasure, used control.
Instead he slid between her legs. Holding her scrap of panties to one side, he applied his
tongue.
She screamed. Well, not out loud. It was a between-the-teeth and in-the-throat kind
of scream. As if she were doing her best to restrain herself — and failing. Sanskar felt an
access of pleasure and pride. Despite his greed, he was driving her crazy, sending her right
through the ceiling.
She moaned and thrashed her head from side to side. Sanskar used his shoulder to hold
up her thigh and moved his hand to one pink nip*le. Lightly, he pinched.
Her hips bucked and then her whole body jerked and shuddered. Above his shoulder,
Sanskar could feel heat suddenly flush her body. “Enough,” she whispered, and pushed his
head.
Sanskar looked up and felt a surge in his own engorgement. Yes, she’d come. Very
nicely, too. Her hair was tousled and her face a rose blush; her br*asts were the same
blush color, and more erect than ever. He barely had time to enjoy this achievement,
though, before she sat up and pushed him back.
He landed in one of the visitor chairs. She leaned toward him with a lopsided smile.
Sanskar had a split second to anticipate, his own skin flushing, before she reached for his fly.
“Oh, yes.” It came out of his mouth like an oath, low and gritty.
Slowly, teasingly, Swara drew down his zipper. Sanskar felt tight enough to burst. Swara
seemed to realize it, too. She pulled back, ratcheting up the anticipation. Then she threw
one of those sleek legs over the armrest of Sanskar’s chair. His palm went to her thigh. He
could feel the capable muscles there. His own muscles leaped at this indication of female
strength. Then with one hand on Sanskar’s shoulder for balance, she threw her other leg over
the opposite armrest.
Sanskar drew in a long breath. She was above him now, open and ready. Oh, his fingers
remembered just how ready.
With a faint smirk, she dipped her hand into the tiny pocket of her miniskirt. Sanskar
watched, lashes low, as she pulled forth a slim single-package con**m. He almost
laughed. Well, at least he didn’t have to admit he had one in his front pocket, too. Not
because he’d wanted anything to happen between them, but because he’d surrendered to
the reality of his own weakness. A weakness he was experiencing in all its glory at that
moment.
Indeed, he was beyond self-recrimination as he watched Swara rip the plastic outer
wrap with her teeth. He felt like a powerful engine, a jet revving as it waited to rush down
the runway. Sanskar forced himself to keep waiting, though he hissed out a breath as Swara
rolled the thin plastic down his shaft. Her fingers drove his engine so much the faster. And
then she was hiking herself closer along the chair arms. It was time for take-off. Sanskar
took hold of her hips and clenched his teeth.
The feel of her closing over him, tight, hot, wet — He was going to start speeding
down the runway. No, he didn’t think he could stay still a moment longer.
“Move!” she whispered.
Sanskar closed his eyes and moved. He moved hard, he moved fast. It was too hard, too
fast, but he couldn’t stop himself. He was flying down the runway. Only he wanted —
“More,” she muttered.
Sanskar’s eyes shot open. Had she read his mind? He grabbed onto her bottom. He
pushed harder. But still —
“Deeper.” Her voice was a harsh growl.
Sanskar didn’t know how to bring it any deeper, not in the position they were in.
Clutching her close, he stood up. Swara moaned. The sweat popped out in beads on Sanskar’s
forehead as, still holding Swara tight, he laid her flat on the floor.
The carpet was nice and thick, something to sink into. Swara looked up at him with
deliberate challenge and spread her knees wide. Sanskar arched his back and drove into her.
Oh yes, this was better, definitely closing the connection between them. Sanskar drove
in again and again, urgent to complete the union. Swara’s head moved from one side to the
other.
“More,” she said.
By this time Sanskar was pushing her across the floor in six-inch increments. His blood
was on fire, every muscle in his body straining with need. Oh, it was as if she’d been made
just for his own personal sin.
“More,” Swara demanded.
Her head bumped into the couch, the couch that was on the opposite side of the room
from where they’d started. “Deeper,” Swara moaned.
With a sharp hiss, Sanskar pulled out of her. She moaned again, this time in protest. He
ignored that as he took her limp body, lifted it, then bent her forward onto the seat of the
leather couch. He pushed her skirt up and drew her panties to the side. She groaned low
as he came into her from behind. “Oh yes,” she breathed, pushing back. “Yes.”
Sanskar was beyond hearing. The pleasure was excruciating now. He gripped her hips,
moving fast, moving hard, taking himself exactly where he wanted to go. He wasn’t even
thinking about her, except as that part of himself he needed.
Needed.
Finally, he could feel the pleasure come to its absolute crest, the exquisite pain-point
of release. At the same moment she seemed to come apart in his hands.
He rode the wave, out of control, rudder-less. Meanwhile his chest expanded to the
point he thought it would burst.
My God, Sanskar thought. My God, my God, my God. Never, ever had he imagined it
would be like this, so — so — Murmuring wordlessly, he folded himself over her back
and put his arms around to hold her close. Together, they slid to the floor.