When Anurag Basu, the dashing and incorrigible bachelor of Kolkata, toppled out of a tree and landed at Prerna's feet, neither suspected that such an inauspicious meeting would lead to marriage. But Anurag must find a bride before his thirtieth birthday or he'll lose his fortune. And Prerna needs a husband or her father's odious fiancée will choose one for her. And so they agree to wed, even though their match appears to have been made somewhere hotter than heaven... Prerna never dreamed she'd marry a stranger, especially one with such a devastating combination of rakish charm and debonair wit. She tries to keep him at arm's length, at least until she discovers the man beneath the handsome surface. But Anurag can be quite persuasive - even tender - when he puts his mind to it, and Prerna finds herself slipping under his seductive spell. And as one kiss leads to another, this unlikely pair discovers that their marriage is not so inconvenient after all... and just might lead to something wonderful. Or maybe love? Based on Julia Quinn's BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN.
Writer: Praneity
Chapter 1 : 'I have the most appalling urge to kiss you!'
You're my serendipity. I wasn't looking for you. I wasn't expecting you. But I'm very lucky I met you."
-Unknown.
Prerna Sharma was minding her own business when Anurag Basu, the dashing and incorrigible bachelor of Kolkata, fell- quite literally-into her life.
She was walking along, whistling a happy tune and keeping her mind busy by trying to estimate the yearly profit of the Roy and Roy Company (of which she owned several shares) when to her great surprise, a man came crashing down from the sky and landed at, or to be more precise-on her feet.
Further inspection revealed that the man in question had fallen not from the sky but from a large oak tree. Prerna, whose life had grown decidedly dull in the last year or so, would have almost preferred that he had fallen from the sky. It certainly would have been more exciting than from a mere tree.
She pulled her left foot out from underneath the man's shoulder, hiked her skirts above her ankles to save them from the dirt, and crouched down. "Hello?" she inquired. "Are you all right?"
All he said was, "Ow."
"Oh, dear," she murmured. "You haven't broken any bones, have you?"
He didn't say anything, just let out a long breath. Prerna lurched back when the fumes hit her. "Sweet heavens," she muttered, "You smell as if you've imbibed a winery."
"Whishkey," he slurred in response. "A gennleman drinks whishkey."
"Not this much whiskey," she retorted. "Only a drunk drinks this much of anything."
He sat up-clearly with difficulty, and shook his head as if to clear it. "Exactly it," he said, waving his hand through the air, then wincing when the action made him dizzy. "I'm a bit drunk, I'm afraid."
Prerna decided to refrain from further comment on that topic. "Are you certain you're not injured?"
He scratched his jet black hair and blinked. "My head pounds like the devil."
"I suspect that isn't only from the fall."
He tried to get up, weaved, and sat back down. "You're a sharp-tongued lady."
"Yes, I know," she said with a wry smile. "It's why I'm a spinster for too long. Now then, I can't very well see to your injuries if I don't know what they are."
"Efficient, too," he murmured. "And why are you so certain I've got an injurty, er, injury?"
Prerna looked up into the tree. The nearest branch which would have supported his weight was a good fifteen feet up. "I don't see how you could have fallen so far and not been injured."
He waved her comments aside and tried to rise again. "Yes, well, we Basus are a hardy lot. It'd take more than a-Sweet merciful Christ!" He howled.
Prerna tried her best not to sound smug when she said, "An ache? A pain? A sprain, perhaps."
His brown eyes narrowed as he clutched the trunk of the tree for support. "You are a hard, cruel woman, Miss whatever-your-name-is, to take such pleasure in my agony."
Prerna coughed to cover a giggle. "Mr. Bose, I must protest and point out that I tried to tend to your injuries, but you insisted you didn't have any."
He scowled in a very boyish sort of way and sat back down. "That's Mr. Basu," he muttered.
"Very well, Mr. Basu," she said, hoping that she hadn't irritated him overmuch. A peer of the rich held much more power than a clerk's daughter, and he could make her life miserable if he chose. She gave up all hope of keeping her dress clean and sat down in the dirt. "Which ankle pains you, Mr. Basu?"
He pointed to his right ankle, and then grimaced when she lifted it in her hands. After a moment's examination, she looked up and said in her most polite voice, "I am going to have to remove your boot, my lord. Would that be permissible?"
"I liked you better when you were spitting fire," he muttered.
Prerna liked herself better that way, too. She smiled. "Do you have a knife?"
He snorted. "If you think I'm going to put a weapon in your hands ..."
"Very well. I suppose I could just pull the boot off." She cocked her head and pretended to ponder the matter. "It might hurt just a bit when it gets stuck on your hideously swollen ankle, but as you pointed out, you come from hardy stock, and a man should be able to take a little pain."
"What the devil are you talking about?"
Prerna started to pull at his boot. Not hard-she could never be that cruel. Tugging just enough to demonstrate that the boot wasn't coming off his foot through ordinary means, she held her breath.
He yelled, and Prerna wished she hadn't tried to teach him a lesson, because she ended up with a face full of whiskey fumes.
"How much did you drink?" she demanded, gasping for air.
"Not nearly enough," he groaned. "They haven't invented a drink strong enough-"
"Oh, come now," Prerna snapped. "I'm not that bad."
To her surprise, he laughed. "Sweetheart," he said in a tone that told her clear as day that his usual occupation was rake, "you're the least bad thing that has happened to me in months."
Prerna felt an odd sort of tingling on the back of her neck at his clumsy compliment. Thankful that her large bonnet hid her blush, she focused her attention back on his ankle. "Have you changed your mind about my cutting your boot?"
His answer was the knife he placed in her palm. "I always knew there was some reason I carried one of these things around. I just never knew what it was until today."
The knife was a bit dull, and soon Prerna was gritting her teeth as she sawed through his boot. She looked up from her task for a moment. "Just let me know if I-"
"Ow!"
"-poke you," she finished. "I'm dreadfully sorry."
"It is astonishing," he said, his voice liberally laced with irony, "how much sorrow I hear in your voice."
Prerna caught another giggle in her throat.
"Oh, for the love of God," he muttered. "Just laugh. Lord knows my life is laughable."
Prerna, whose own life had descended into the miserable ever since her widower father had announced his intention to marry the biggest busybody of the town, felt a pang of empathy. She didn't know what could have prompted this remarkably handsome and well-heeled man to go out and get himself blindingly drunk, but whatever it was, she felt for him. She stopped her work on his boot for a moment, leveled her dark blue eyes at his face, and said, "My name is Prerna Sharma."
His eyes warmed. "Thank you for sharing that pertinent piece of information, Miss Sharma. It isn't every day I allow a strange woman to saw off my boots."
"It isn't every day I nearly get knocked to the ground by men falling from trees. Strange men," she added for emphasis.
"Ah yes, I should introduce myself, I suppose." He cocked his head in a manner that reminded Prerna that he was still more than a touch inebriated. "Anurag Basu at your service, Miss Sharma." Then he muttered, "Much as that's worth."
Prerna stared at him unblinkingly. Anurag Basu? He was one of the county's most eligible bachelors. So eligible that even she'd heard of him, and she wasn't on anybody's list of eligible young ladies. Rumor had it that he was the worst sort of rake. Prerna had heard him whispered about at the gatherings, although as an unmarried lady she'd never been privy to the juiciest gossip. She tended to think that his reputation must be very black if he did things that couldn't even be mentioned in her presence.
Prerna had also heard that he was fantastically wealthy, even more so than her sister Anika's new husband, who was an Oberoi. Prerna couldn't personally vouch for that, as she hadn't seen his personal finance ledgers, and she made it a point never to speculate on financial matters without hard evidence. But she did know that the Basu estate was vast and ancient. And it was a good twenty miles away. "What are you doing here in Mirik?" she blurted out.
"Just visiting my old childhood haunts."
Prerna motioned toward the branches above them with her head. "Your favorite tree?"
"Used to climb it all the time with Shivaay."
Prerna finished her work on the boot and put the knife down. "Shivaay? As in Shivaay Oberoi?" she asked.
Anurag looked suspicious and a bit protective. "You're on a first-name basis with him? He's recently married."
"Yes. To my sister."
"The world grows smaller by the second," he murmured. "I'm honored to make your acquaintance."
"You might rethink that sentiment in a moment," Prerna remarked. With a gentle touch, she slid his swollen foot from his boot.
Anurag looked down at his mangled boot with a pained expression. "I suppose my ankle is more important," he said wistfully, but he didn't sound as if he meant it.
Prerna expertly prodded his ankle. "I don't think you've broken any bones, but you've a nasty sprain."
"You sound experienced at this sort of thing."
"I come to the rescue of any wounded animal," she said, arching her brows. "Dogs, cats, birds-"
"Men," he finished for her.
"No," she said pertly. "You're the first. But I cannot imagine that you'd be that much different from a dog."
"Your fangs are showing, Miss Sharma."
"Are they?" she asked, reaching up to touch her face. "I shall have to remember to retract them."
Anurag burst out laughing. "You, Miss Sharma, are a treasure."
"That's what I keep telling everyone," she said with a shrug and a wicked smile, "but no one seems to believe me. Now then, I fear you will require a cane for several days. Possibly a week. Have you one at your disposal?"
"Right now?"
"I meant at home, but...." Prerna's words trailed off as she looked around her. She spied a long stick several yards away and scrambled to her feet. "This should do," she said, picking it up and handing it to him. "Do you need assistance getting to your feet?"
He grinned wolfishly as he swayed toward her. "Any excuse to be in your arms, my dear Miss Sharma."
Prerna knew she should be outraged, but he was trying so hard to be charming, and devil take it, he was succeeding. Handily. She supposed that was why he was such a successful rake. She stepped around to his back and put her hands under his arms. "I warn you, I'm not very gentle."
"Now why doesn't that surprise me?"
"On the count of three, then. Are you ready?"
"That depends, I suppose, on-"
"One, two ... three!" With a grunt and a heave, Prerna pulled the him to his feet. It wasn't an easy task. He outweighed her by a good four stone and was drunk, to boot. His knees buckled, and Prerna only just managed to keep herself from cursing as she planted her feet and braced them. Then he started to topple over in the other direction, and she had to scoot to his front to keep him from falling.
"Now that feels nice," he murmured as his chest pressed up against hers.
"Mr. Basu, I must insist that you use your cane."
"On you?" He sounded intrigued by the notion.
"To walk!" she fairly yelled.
He flinched at the noise, and then shook his head. "It's the oddest thing," he murmured, "but I have the most appalling urge to kiss you."1
For once, Prerna was speechless.
PRECAP - Anurag proposes to Prerna.
