A Perfect Mismatch by Leena Varghese Read Free Book Online Page B

something crackle to life deep within. It was not meant to happen this way, he grimaced. It was like being punched in the guts inside a boxing ring while his hands were tied. But he couldn’t deny that Zara looked absolutely gorgeous in that colour. It
had
to be the colour! The lotus pink suited her. The heavy silk sari was gracefully swathed around her, the vibrant shade giving her a delicate rosy glow. He saw that she was not exactly as shapeless, as he had presumed earlier. She did have a neat waistline and her hips swayed enticingly when she walked. He had torn his eyes away immediately in grim resolve when she came nearer, not wanting to appear like a clod who could not keep his mouth shut.
    The photographers swarmed the venue and he felt like an idiot gawking at his bride. She seemed like a different person altogether. On his sister’s insistence, he had chosen the sari with a resigned air at the boutique without a second thought. The pearls on her neck and wrists made her look heavenly. He was stunned when he saw her coming towards him with that fiery challenge in her grey eyes,eyes that seemed to have taken on a new shade of silvery light. It was there in the way she carried herself, in the tilt of her chin and the long slender neck. He did not even know she had a neck for goodness sake! She was regal in her wedding finery and he could not have asked for more. The thought plunged him unceremoniously into a gloomy black mood!
    Zara was breathless with the sheer excitement of being the center of attention. She made sure that she avoided looking at Armaan though it was not easy when several people came to wish them. She did not want to remember the heart-stopping moment when his eyes were transfixed on her for several seconds at the beginning of the ceremony. The knowledge that she had managed to appear perfect was enough to make her believe that this time he could not find fault with her.
    Her own eyes had been glued at the sight of her tall magnificent bridegroom, dressed in a striking deep ochre
bandhgala
and bronze ornamented silk turban. It made him appear austere and royal at the same time. He had finally shaved for the wedding, sporting a clean jaw that made him look spectacular. Zara would have reached up to spread a hand on that smooth masculine cheek if only she could! His dark eyes were hooked on her as she stepped beside him. She had hastily averted her awed gaze, afraid that he might guess how deeply he affected her. After that, she had only concentrated on the people around her as if she was somehow the sole participant of this wedding, smiling and laughing with everyone, as though she was truly happy.
    Zara did have moments of terrible uncertainty at being part of such a farce. Her hand trembled when it was placed in his larger, stronger ones during the ceremony as a sign of union. Her eyes welled up unexpectedly while the priests explained the meaning of each sacred vow, chanting the holy
mantra
that joined them in matrimony. He had clasped her trembling hand in his firm grip, which was unusually comforting, as they walked around the holy fire, culminating in a shower of flowers and blessings from the guests. Later, during the reception when the endless line of people wished them, her mother-in-law hugged her with a genuine affection that Zara had not received in a long time. She was goaded by the urgent need to blurt out an apology and the truth about the marriage to her.
    However aunt Sudha’s words that she was finally relieved of her responsibility confirmed Zara’s belief that her decision was for the best. She did nevertheless hug her aunt on an impulse.
    The reception finally wound up sometime after midnight. It was almost three in the morning by the time the rest of the rituals and the
grihapravesh
concluded at Armaan’s house. Zara was exhausted. She pushed the uncomfortable thought that they would eventually have to face each other away. As Armaan had clearly explained, they would shift to