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  She looked up at John who was now done with most of his meal and was preparing to fetch himself some more coffee.

  ‘A refill of the orange juice for you?’ he asked politely.

  ‘No, thank you,’ she replied, quite fascinated by his old world politeness, ‘I’m done.’ Samir would have gone off and got what he wanted to for himself without bothering to ask if she wanted something. She had put it down to him being a new-age man and she being a new-age woman. She didn’t need doors to be opened for her, if that kind of chivalry still existed.

  ‘Are you scheduled to go on shore?’ he asked as he sat back, sipping from his refilled cup of caffeine.

  ‘I am,’ she replied, thinking this a good time as any to end the conversation. She stood up to leave. ‘It was good to meet you, John. Have a lovely day.’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ he said hastily as she began moving away. ‘Let’s go ashore together. What excursion are you booked on?’ She told him. As all good coincidences should be, they were on the same one. ‘That’s good. I’m lucky to have such pretty company. Shall we?’ he asked, bending politely to let her go first.

  He was laying it on with a shovel and she found it too amusing to take him seriously or take offence, as she would have, had it been someone else.

  They made it off the ship to the bus barely moments before the bus was full up. As they clambered onto the bus, she spotted Kamal with his wife and kids tucked at the back. The kids had each grabbed a window seat, their nose pressed against the window in fascination of a new place. Only young children have such kind of fascination, she noted wistfully. Kamal smiled in brief acknowledgement, but soon got busy with the kids who were now pointing outside and asking questions.

  Rhea turned her attention to John as they sat together. He was entertaining and a flattering companion, full of amusing anecdotes about his travels to what seemed to be every possible destination she ever wanted to visit and she lapped up his stories with interest. As they set off for Pompeii, they could see beautiful views of the city of Naples from the terraces of Posillipo. The bus wound carefully along the scenic coast road to Amalfi and the spectacular views had her craning her neck and fishing out her camera every second turn, where the bus politely halted to allow the passengers more photo ops than could be legal. The Mediterranean could be seen twinkling from the sheer drop at the edge of the winding coast road. Every now and then Rhea caught Kamal’s eyes staring at her. And when she turned back she could feel two holes being bored by a very determined gaze. She tried to ignore it, but Kamal did not seem like a man who could be ignored.

  They made a brief halt for lunch in Sorrento, at a local restaurant. Soon they were exploring the town on foot. John had been there before which made them cut off from the group and wander around on their own a bit. So much attention was flattering, it made Rhea giddy and giggly and she was only too aware of a pair of disapproving honey-brown eyes seeking her out from the crowd. It seemed every time she looked up, Kamal Shahani was staring at her. ‘To hell with you, Kamal Shahani! I’m not going to be bothered by your indignant stares,’ she muttered under her breath and then wondered why she was even bothering.

  A short, but scenic drive later, they reached the ruins of Pompeii, where the guide painstakingly took them through the carefully preserved debris of what had once been a thriving city until that horrific moment when Mount Vesuvius rained down ash and lava, burying the city and its inhabitants in an instant. She was glad for the hat she had bunged on her head. It was a hot day and she found herself with damp patches under her arms as their guide took their group through the Forum, the Thermal Baths, Vetti’s House and the Lupanare brothel, all buried by volcanic ash during the eruption.

  Pompeii done with, the tour group returned to Naples for a tour of the city’s landmarks, including stops at the Cathedral to visit the Treasure Chapel and S. Restituta Basilica which dated back to the fourth century. They were driven down to the Plebiscite square where they were shown the Royal Palace, the church of St Franceso di Paula, the Town Hall Square and the New Castle built by the French Family of Anjou.

  The tour ended, but not before a stop at one of the oldest pizzerias of the city. It would be, after all, criminal not to taste the trademark delicacy of the place where pizza is reported to have originated.

  Kamal and his wife were seated at a table nearby along with the kids who were in turn busy dismembering the pizzas that they were supposed to eat. Despite their mother’s feeble admonishment about appropriate conduct in public, it was a mother of all messes on their table. She rolled her eyes apologetically when Rhea met her harassed gaze. ‘These children,’ she said across the tables in an attempt to explain in response to her disapproving looks, ‘They’re impossible to handle on holiday. I assure you they’re better behaved back at home.’

  Rhea smiled back in polite empathy. She had not one maternal bone in her body and these displays were quite enough to tempt her into getting her tubes tied while she still had the chance. Luckily, Samir hadn’t been too keen on children—they had been well-matched in that sense. He probably considered her a perfect trophy wife, she thought. She was well read, carried herself with grace and confidence and knew how to work her way in from the soup spoon to the dessert spoon. To top it all, when she put her best foot forward she could give a room of grown men a crick in the neck from swirling their heads around to follow her movements. But then Samir wasn’t part of her future anymore. A dark cloud of gloom settled itself on her head and began raining on her day. Her mood went from animated to morose faster than it would get a F1 car to accelerate to full throttle.

  ‘Quite a handful, aren’t they?’ John said, looking at the kids indulgently. Rhea rolled her eyes. ‘Not too fond of kids, are you?’

  ‘Not really,’ she confessed. She maintained a healthy distance from the under 10s.

  ‘One of my biggest regrets was that we didn’t have children. But now I realize that it was a blessing in disguise . . .’ his voice trailed off. Rhea hoped against hope that he was not going to dissolve into a fountain of tears because she was not up for sympathetic arm patting at the moment. But he politely excused himself to go the restroom. Rhea got up and walked to the exit of the pizzeria, waiting for him. She watched Kamal’s wife as she hurried the kids to the restrooms too in the harassed manner patented by moms. Kamal strolled over to where she was the moment his family disappeared into the inner recesses of the restaurant.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, his tone concerned in a way it had no business being. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t I be okay?’ she replied, bristling with a faint annoyance at the very proprietary air he was giving off. ‘And why is it that every time I turn around, you seem to be watching me? Is something the matter?’

  ‘Well, that depends on what you define something as,’ he replied with a grave expression, and then broke into a half-smile, his eyes boring into hers, the gaze almost a probe. ‘I just feel a little responsible for you,’ he continued. ‘Your aunt asked me to keep an eye on you during the trip when I dropped in to see her this morning to ask you both to join us for breakfast and the excursion. You had already left for breakfast by then. That’s when she told me that I should look after you. And I tend to take my duties very seriously,’ he said with a mock grin.

  She bristled again, but didn’t want to hold back. ‘You know what, you can stop. My aunt is really sweet but she tends to forget that I am an adult who lives on her own, and am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. And if I needed looking after, it would definitely not be by you, Mr Shahani. I think you have enough people to look after already,’ she replied, gesturing towards the restroom.

  His eyes narrowed slightly, anger flickering for a second. He looked even more handsome when he is angry, she thought weakly. But then, not wanting to give in, she gave him a scornful look, turned on her heel and stomped off towards where the bus was parked. What kind of hold did this man have on her? Why was she reacting so? She kept thinking as she walked angrily back to the bus. He was only doing what her aunt had asked him to, but why was she so affected by his mere gaze? Why was it that every time she saw him, she wanted to run her finger through his hair and touch his face? Why was it that she felt compelled to respond to him, to his gaze?

  ‘Hey, hey, wait up!’ It was John, who had just emerged from the restroom, hurtling after her. She smiled and stopped. He took her gently by the arm, and escorted her onto the bus. Her train of thoughts vanished, and she now settled in the bus once again, soaking in the scenery afresh.

  It was all she could do to gather her flustered thoughts together and concentrate on the city and the sights she was trying to soak in. The conversation with John, which was nothing more than light banter, was amusing, but could not distract her from grim thoughts of dismembering Kamal for his unctuous, unwanted concern.

  THREE

  The next couple of days were going to be all at sea while the liner made its way around the ‘tip of the boot’ that comprised Italy, right up to the ‘city of lovers’ and canals and bridges and gondolas. Rhea couldn’t wait to visit Venice, and was rather irked that it would take them a while of enforced camaraderie on the floating city before she could step down on solid land again. Her sea legs were still just that bit shaky, and only regular medication could help her hold her food down.

  There was an insistent buzz on the doorbell to their cabin the next morning at the hour when breakfast had been done with and the mid-morning loomed ahead most emptily. Rhea opened the door and looked straight at Kamal. Her hackles, already prickly, rose further.

  ‘Good morning,’ he said politely.

  ‘You?’ She stepped back a bit as she stared right into the expanse of chest that lay visible through his v-neck T-shirt.

  ‘Me,’ he replied, boring his eyes through her till she felt uncomfortable in her deep pink vest and casual grey shorts which revealed more of her figure than she cared to.

  ‘Lovely morning,’ he said, in the idle tone of polite chatter.

  ‘It definitely was, until this moment,’ she replied defiantly. Rhea wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of thinking that his company was welcome to her. She also did not want him to forget how upset she had been with him staring at her all of the previous day.

  He raised one eyebrow and gave her his infuriating half-smile. He didn’t seem to think much of her comment and peeped in expectantly. Her heart skipped a beat as she inhaled the scent of his masculine perfume, though she pretended to be completely unaffected.

  ‘Who is it, Rhea?’ Rina Maasi called out from her perch near the porthole where she was downing her umpteenth cup of tea since the morning.

  ‘Your ex-student,’ Rhea replied, gesturing that he should step that way towards her aunt. Rina Maasi was craning her neck and patting her hair down to present a decent self.

  Rhea tried to collect her thoughts into coherence. What was happening to her? She had been terribly rude to Kamal. But he was too handsome for his own good and seemed like he assumed that she would fall for him just like all the other women he must have encountered in the past. It was a good thing that when it came to married men, she was a girl with a firm moral compass, or else she would have been tempted to make him break his marital promises.

  As he walked in, she watched his casual yet purposeful stride in a pair of flip flops and loose fitting white linen trousers that were rolled up to the ankles. His close-cropped hair was still damp from a shower. For a moment she felt an irresistible urge to run her fingers through his hair, right down to the nape of his neck . . . she almost groaned with pleasure.

  ‘Did you say something?’ he suddenly turned around and asked.

  ‘Huh? No,’ Rhea stammered. Her emotions were getting the better of her. She needed to keep them in check. ‘No day dreaming around Kamal from now!’ she reprimanded herself. But the very next minute her body tingled with the awareness of each of his movements and stance.

  ‘Hello ma’am! I just dropped by to check if you were feeling better today and if you and your niece would like to join us for lunch,’ he said sitting down on the single chair opposite her, making Rhea rather superfluous in the conversation. If anything, he was persistent. And polite. Not many students she could think of would repeatedly extend invites to meals to their ex-teachers.

  ‘I must thank you for looking after Rhea yesterday,’ Rina Maasi said. ‘She told me you took good care of her all through the trip. It was really kind of you.’

  Rhea gasped in shock. She had said nothing of the sort! In fact quite the contrary. She remembered ranting to her aunt about asking Kamal to keep an eye on her and the fact that he took it upon himself to keep not just one, but both eyes fixed on her. She would confront Rina Maasi on this straight-faced lie once they were alone in the room, she thought to herself. Kamal raised one cryptic eyebrow and tilted his head sardonically in Rhea’s direction. ‘Completely my pleasure, ma’am, although I don’t think your niece needed much looking after. She was pretty well taken care of by her companion on the trip.’

  Rhea, who had not yet told her aunt about having spent the entire afternoon on the shore excursion exclusively in the company of an unknown man, made frantic eye expressions at Kamal from behind her aunt’s back, which he pretended to not notice.

  ‘What companion?’ Rina Maasi asked, a sudden infusion of sternness in her voice. She was, despite all her bohemianism, still a very strict aunt who was acutely aware of her responsibility in having brought Rhea along on this trip.

  Kamal shrugged. ‘Your niece has made some friends on the cruise. Am sure you’ll meet them when you step out.’

  Rina Maasi shot Rhea a look which indicated a full Spanish Inquisition was in the offing at the earliest convenient moment. Rhea dreaded these inquisitions by Rina Maasi. She had the art of asking the toughest questions without a hint of hesitation, polished by years of dealing with recalcitrant and defiant boys.

  ‘Such a kind offer, dear boy, and how sweet of you to ask us to lunch. Unfortunately, I already have a lunch date, and must soon start getting dressed for it. As for Rhea, you must ask her if she wants to join you all for lunch. I have learnt not to speak for my niece, lest I get my head bitten off later.’ She turned to Rhea and arched a brow; the vehemence with which Rhea had ticked her off the previous night had cut deep.

  Kamal turned the full magnetism of his eyes on Rhea and she felt her knees turn unbecomingly into jelly of the version that had no business supporting the torso above it. Rina Maasi looked on curiously as the two of them were locked in a never ending gaze that neither wanted to break, until Rhea, with a great wrench of determination, turned her head away and looked out of the porthole at the sea.

  ‘Would you join us for lunch, Rhea?’ he asked. She turned to look back at him. Her name sounded vaguely erotic from his mouth. ‘It would be a pleasure, unless, of course, you have other plans too.’ His eyes were laughing. She didn’t fancy being asked to lunch just because Rina Maasi had insisted he ask her himself and declined the offer straightaway.

  ‘I have some things I must catch up with,’ she said lightly, without the strength of her convictions, wondering if his pupils were perennially, visibly dilated, or whether it was something that just seemed to happen whenever she looked at him, ‘Thank you for the offer though.’

  He exhaled and stood up, passing within touching distance of her on his way out of the narrow passageway to the door of the cabin. She could have sworn the static electricity between them crackled so loud that it could have been mistaken for lightning strike by an unwary onlooker.

  ‘Are you sure?’ he asked again at the door, his eyes locking into hers. ‘We could be quite amusing company.’

  ‘I’m sure,’ she replied, looking at him straight in the eye. If he thought he could drag her to lunch with his little family for his amusement, he was highly mistaken.

  ‘Out of the cabin, boy,’ Rina Maasi shooed Kamal, in much the manner she might have had when he was a gangling, pimply youth of fifteen. ‘I have a date I have to dress up for.’

  He laughed again, an easy rolling laugh that was mellow, warm, and comforting. ‘Bye, ma’am,’ he replied. ‘Good to see you fine and back to your regular spirits.’

  ‘I’ll see you around Rhea,’ he said in a low voice as he stepped out of their cabin and she stood at the door to see him off. She raised a defiant chin and did not deign to reply.

  He laughed. Despite herself, Rhea felt a frisson of guilty excitement run up her spine.

  With Rina Maasi dressed in her best dress and hat and off to an intimate lunch with the Colonel, to which Rhea was not invited, she decided to explore the facilities on the ship using the in-house newsletter as her guide. She put on a soft, flowing, yellow sun dress that tied halter style at the neck, comfortable canvas shoes, her huge floppy hat, and slapped on enough sunscreen to deflect skin damaging ultra violet radiation glinting off the lapping waves. When she emerged onto the promenade deck, it was full of people walking around in pairs or in groups, laughing, talking, or arguing. For a moment, just the briefest moment, she felt terribly resentful about being on her own in a cruise liner that was throbbing with people having fun together. It wasn’t fair that Rina Maasi should be off on a date while she was condemned to ramble the vast ship on her own, trying to find a quiet corner to entertain herself! But she squashed that ungrateful thought down promptly.

  Of course, had it not been for Rina Maasi and her generous offer to take her on this all-expenses paid trip, she would have been moping tears into buckets back in Delhi. Her thoughts immediately went to Samir who deserved to be flayed alive and then hung from the branches of the nearest tree for carrion birds to feast on. Having indulged in bloodthirsty wishful thinking for all of two seconds, she firmly blinked back the fierce tears which were beginning to prick at the back of her eyeballs, and marched on through the layered decks, looking around for something to do. There was much to be done if one was the doing kind of person, which she realized she wasn’t.