The Bollywood Bride Read Online Free PDF Page B

nothing more than to succumb. She had already washed her hair, twice. And dried it. Now she flat-ironed her already straight hair, one section at a time, until it took on an unnatural sheen.
    Vikram had loved her hair. Loved to tangle his fingers in it, press his face into it, tug at it when he teased her.
    She rolled it tightly into a bun, and poked in pins to keep it in place. Keep your mind where your hands are, her aunt always said, and the future will take care of itself. It wasn’t working. The future she’d been dreading since Nikhil’s phone call was here and it was far from taken care of.
    She looked around for something else to do and found the long-handled brush that stuck out of her giant makeup pouch. Her eyes were too tired for makeup, but she grabbed the brush and swept bronze shadow across her lids. Then on went a thin line of kohl, then a coat of mascara. Ria Parkar, Film Star, stared back at her from the mirror and she tried to follow her lead. An Ice Princess wouldn’t be a terrified mass of jelly, and even if she were she most certainly wouldn’t show it.
    Ria reached for the chiffon scarf and tried to drape it across her bare shoulders, but it took her shaking fingers a few tries. She closed her eyes and imagined the cameras turning on, felt the heat of the set lights on her skin. It didn’t quite create her usual disconnection, but she felt distant enough from her body to squeeze a few thin gold bangles around her wrists and sling a chain around her neck. By the time she had adjusted the diamond teardrop to fall precisely in the center of her throat her hands were steady enough. Finally, she pushed a pair of tiny hoops into her oversensitive earlobes.
    Why do you wear those damn things? Out of nowhere his whisper blew into her ear. The memory of his breath on her bloodstained lobes so stark and fresh she almost pressed back into him. Earrings had always hurt too much and she had never worn them as a child. But Uma had given Ria her grandmother’s earrings the summer she turned sixteen and Ria had wanted to wear them no matter what. Even when Vikram hid them away she had made him give them back.
    Ten years of wearing outrageously large earrings and her ears, like everything else, had adjusted to the pain.
    She closed her eyes and stepped away from the mirror. So much for Ice Princess. Her insides, her limbs, all of it was a wobbly mess again. She tried to invoke the cameras one more time, but it was useless. Another wave of laughter and conversation drifted up from downstairs and she forced herself to the sweeping staircase and grabbed the handrail.
    It was time to give the shot. She could do this. Once she made it down she’d find a nice quiet corner to hide in. She was good at being invisible under the spotlight. And he probably wasn’t even in the house. Nikhil hadn’t mentioned him once. Uma hadn’t mentioned him. Then again, they had stopped mentioning him around her ten years ago. Okay, time to stop this. She took a deep breath and took the last shaking step into the foyer.
    And there he was.
    Vikram.
    Of course he was the first thing her eyes found in the crowd. The floor shifted beneath her feet. The entire polished mass of wood slid out from under her. There was no way she was making an entrance on her bum. It was the worst possible way she could think of to meet him after all these years. She dug her fingers into the handrail and regained her footing.
    He stood there against the flaming red tapestry that had hung over the mantel for as long as Ria could remember. He was deep in conversation, completely focused on the person he was talking to. She realized with a start that there were people everywhere. Dark bobbing heads, a sea of them flooding the house, the buzz of voices loud and raucous despite the music. As always, he stood apart. A head taller than everyone else. And somehow more still, more rooted than anyone else. As if he had been standing there forever. She couldn’t