be completely paralyzed."
"Well, they lied."
"I'm sorry," Cal said with a shrug. "I'm proud of you anyway. And like I promised, I heard just a few minutes ago that the conversation my colleagues had with your father went very well. They are very, very confident he will follow their advice to the letter. So from now on, you don't have to worry about him misbehaving with you, your sisters, or your mom. The men I sent are utterly convinced, but they're still going to check in every month or so to remind him he'd best behave. You're free."
For several beats Cal returned Veena's glare. He had expected some positive reaction from her, but it wasn't forthcoming. Just when he was about to question why she wasn't more pleased to be free, she shocked him by hurling herself at him. Before he knew what was happening, she grabbed his shirt at the collar with both hands and proceeded to tear it open. Buttons popped off with explosive force.
Reflexively, Cal grasped her forearms but not before she'd peeled his shirt back from his shoulders and yanked it down. At that point, in utter confusion, Cal let her pull his shirt completely off, ball it up in a tight bundle, and toss it to the side. He tried to catch her eyes in hope of some explanation, but she was too preoccupied. Without a second's hesitation, she put both her palms on his bare chest and pushed him stumbling backward until his heels slammed up against the foot of the couch. At that point his knees buckled, and he ended up in a sitting position. Still without hesitation or any explanation, she grabbed one foot, lifted it, and pulled off his shoe, tossing it in the direction of the abandoned shirt. Next came the second shoe. Once the shoes were history, she attacked his belt and zipper, and after grabbing both cuffs, the pants went in the direction of the shoes and shirt.
"What the hell?" Cal questioned as she unabashedly slipped her thumbs inside the waistband of his briefs. Cal's athletic body in all its glory was in full view. This was beyond even his most lascivious fantasy. It was true that Cal Morgan had been attracted to Veena Chandra from the moment he'd interviewed her nine weeks earlier and had pursued her sexually but with no luck. Cal had been perplexed. Having been voted sexiest man in his Beverly Hills high school graduating class as well as valedictorian, and with similar accolades at UCLA, Cal had never lacked for female companionship and sex, which he thought of as a sport. But he'd never made any headway with Veena, which was confusing, since she always acted as if she truly cared for him, with small favors and special consideration.
"Why are you doing this?" Cal questioned with uncamouflaged bewilderment, although he wasn't about to tell her to stop. At the moment, Veena was rapidly unbuttoning her nurse's uniform. She had now locked eyes with Cal, and her expression was one of angry determination. For the first time since he'd met her, the thought went through Cal's mind that she might be truly emotionally unbalanced. The fact that he'd learned just that day that she'd been victimized by her father for sixteen years was not lost on him.
Veena did not speak as she stepped out of her uniform. Nor did she take her eyes from Cal's as she undid her bra and set her shapely breasts free. In contrast, Cal let his eyes drop to take in the full glory of Veena's nakedness. Cal had known she had a knockout body from seeing her in a modest bikini when they'd brought the nurses to California for their month of computer and cultural training, but this was infinitely more captivating.
Still, Veena did not speak, nor did she slow down. The second she was out of her clothes, she advanced on Cal, straddled him, and directed him inside. She then proceeded to put her hands on his shoulders and to rock rhythmically.
Cal raised his eyes to hers. She was still glaring at him with the same determined expression. If it hadn't been so pleasurable, he would have thought she was
Janwillem van de Wetering