Monsoon Romance

Sexy Encounter

Armande’s gaze scanned the entire villa as he walked in angrily dragging his expensive leather suitcases. Ibha, being mesmerised by his appearance, failed to realize that she was standing right in his way, ready to invite a series of trouble on herself. 

“Ibha!”  Mrs. Walker cleared her throat and was about to request her to move aside when Armande interrupted. “Everything I see has filth in it.”

That’s when Ibha snapped out of her thoughts and turned beat red in anger. “Did you just call me, FILTH?” She frowned innocently. 

Armande raised an eyebrow and commented on her stained outfit. “Girl, in my world, people would think twice before making a despicable appearance before me.” “Are you too broke to get a laundry?” He quipped.

“Excuse me!” Ibha crossed her arms and grinded her teeth.

Noticing the tension between them, Mrs. Walker quickly wheeled towards Armande. “He’s my grandson, Armande Walker,” She smiled from ear to ear and held his arm.  “ And Armande, she is Ibha, the caretaker I told you about. A local of this town,” she explained delightfully while the two stared at each other in utter disgust.

 Armande put on his sunglasses and had a good look at her again. “Local huh…Is that the best you both could get,” he made a face and walked past Ibha, ignoring her as if she didn’t exist for him.

“Don’t mind his words Ibha, I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” Mrs. Walker tried to ease the unpleasantry that had transpired between Ibha and Armande.  “He’s just tired after a long flight from Melbourne. Why don’t you make us all a nice cup of hot tea,” Mrs. Walker explained and followed Armande to his room.

Ibha sighed and wondered if what Mrs. Walker said about him was really true because his tone cleared sounded like he meant every word. She turned to walk in as well when suddenly her gaze fell on his sleek black car. “Wait a sec! I recognize that car!” She widened her eyes in disbelief. “No wonder it was Armande who hurled that beer can at me,” She rolled her eyes and walked towards the kitchen.

“Watch it!” Armande raised his voice before Ibha bumped into his suitcases and tripped. “Dammit! You ruined my Louis Vuitton!” He remarked and rushed to check his suitcases. Maintaining her balance, Ibha stood straight and looked at all the suitcases he had left scattered in the hallway. 

“Is it your speciality? Or are all you locals born dumb? he huffed and criticised her.

“I’m sorry Armande, I’ll be careful next time,” She apologised innocently and brushed the cut she received on her knee. 

“Mr. Armande…” He corrected her using his sharp tone. 

“S-sor-ry! I-I meant Mr. Ar-armande” Ibha stuttered and turned red in embarrassment. There was something in that harsh voice of his that had turned her on.

“You better be,” he made it clear and stride away in search of Mr. Walker, his grandfather.

“Tired?? huh, either grandma loves him way too much or she really can’t see what a snob her grandson really is. I wonder how long I’ll have to put up with his temper. Hope he isn’t intending on staying for long here. Looks like a trouble maker to me,” Ibha muttered in disappointment while she prepared some tea and snacks for the Walkers.

Her first encounter with the young snobbish billionaire hadn’t gone down well. They say that the first impression is the last, yet Ibha thought of giving him a second chance before forming her opinion about him, after all she had to pass on the news of the new member, to her best friend Shambhuvi.

 As she stood in the kitchen she noticed how the otherwise quiet villa was now bursting with the chirpy voice of the old lady who was the only person excited to have her grandson come to visit them.  

Ibha heard the old lady’s voice echo while she guided him in and around the villa. Ibha found it weirdly odd that instead of sitting down and talking to his grandma, Armande was more interested in knowing the dimension and carpet area of the grand villa. “Maybe he’s coming after ages and has forgotten how the villa looked,” she said to herself as she poured 3 piping cups of tea.

Holding the tray in hand she went out in search of them and found Mr.Walker cleaning his hunting rifle in the backyard. He, unlike his wife, wasn’t interested in showering his undivided attention on Armande, his only grandson; instead, he preferred to pretend that Armande didn’t exist at all. 

“Grandpa, won’t you be joining us for tea in the drawing-room?” She asked curiously and approached him.

“No, I’m better off here, there are some elements in the house that disturb me, and certainly don’t wish to encounter them any sooner,” Mr. Walker snorted and brushed his white moustache.

“Uh…Okay…I’ll place your cup here then, by the way, if you’re going out hunting then you better wear your sweater or you’ll catch a cold,” Ibha advised and placed the cup near him.

“Ahh, you never fail to show your concern, do you? I’m glad that we’ve got someone who really cares,” he smiled and looked at her lovingly as a father.  “Don’t worry, I’ll not catch a cold but I’ll surely catch a rabbit for supper,” He added while she laughed.

“Sure, a rabbit would be perfect to enhance the celebration. Grandma looks so thrilled to have her grandson home,” Ibha exclaimed and noticed the sudden change of expression on his face.

“Celebration, huh…If there’s anything I hate the most then it has to be ….” He grimaced as his words faded in a grumble before he marched off through the back gates.

Wondering what had perturbed the old man so much, she walked back inside and searched the other two. She found them in the drawing-room, Armande was by the balcony talking on his cellphone while Mrs. Walker was decorating the platter with cookies that she had specially baked for him.

“Armande loved these as a kid, I’m going to surprise him by placing these before him,” she whispered in excitement as Ibha handed over the cup to her and smiled. “Can I taste some?” she asked eagerly and gladly picked one when Mrs. Walker agreed.

“Mmm…These are excellent, I never knew you were so good at baking grandma,” Ibha savoured every bite and complimented her.

“That’s because you hardly let me step into the kitchen, though I must say you’re not less than a pastry chef yourself. I’m sure Armande will fall in love with your cooking once he tastes the food you prepare. Oh that reminds me, why don’t you prepare the local delicacies,” Mrs. Walker suggested and felt all the more excited while Ibha merely smiled. “It’s high time he tasted some delicious indigenous food,” she added and giggled while Armande continued talking by the balcony.

“Hmm…I wonder if it will appeal to him, he looks more like a fish & chips guy,” Ibha sighed and walked towards him with the tray in hand.

“Excuse me…” She said softly but failed to get his attention as he continued cursing on the phone.

From what it appeared, Armande was having a tough time trying to talk on the phone since the network coverage was very weak up in the mountain. “Excuse me…Mr. Armande,” Ibha tried calling out to him but his frustration knew no bounds as he stood there with his back towards her.

Fed up with not being able to hear what the other person was saying, he cut the line and swung his arms before turning on account of which he hit the tray and caused the cup to fall.

Ibha cried as the hot tea spilt over her dress and spoiled it for a second time. The clanking of the tray and cup grabbed Mrs. Walker’s attention as Ibha stared at the mess before her.

“Oh my dear, are you alright?” The old lady rushed in her wheelchair and looked at Ibha worriedly while Armande grimaced.

“You nearly scratched my watch, couldn’t you have just called out to me?” Armande complained and looked at her angrily.

“Oh did you get hurt as well, I’m sorry I was the one who told her to hand it over to you. I should have known how busy you are,” Mrs. Walker took the blame on her and surprised Ibha. “You’ve come home after years, I and your grandpa are trying our best to make your stay a pleasant one,” She added and tried to explain as if she had done a blunder by disturbing him.

“Ya I can see how well grandpa is playing his part in this,” he remarked and rolled his eyes before walking past them.

“Uhm…Armande dear, I’ve baked you your favourite cookies, why don’t you…” Mrs. Walker hadn’t finished her statement when Armande just walked out of the room. “Oh well, he’s a busy man, I’ll offer him some later. Till then why don’t you go in and change,” she smiled and looked at Ibha.

“You’re quite fond of him, aren’t you?” Ibha enquired in amazement for she couldn’t believe that a lady could love her grandson who had no regards for her.

“Of course I do, he’s my only grandson. He’s just like your grandpa though, stubborn and arrogant, but he’s very kind inside. He left us years ago when my son and his wife shifted back to Australia. They separated when he was only eleven, he stayed with his father and has taken over our family business of producing and exporting tea all over the world. I wish his father would fly down to meet us too, he loved India just like us, but I’m happy at least my grandson is here,” Mrs. Walker explained as she went down memory lane.

 “I don’t think he’s anywhere near grandpa,” Ibha muttered softly and rubbed the stain off her dress.

“Oh I ’m sorry I kept you held up with my boring talks, go in and change quick, I’ll try and clean up the mess,” Mrs. Walker said and excused herself.

Ibha shook her head in disbelief and went towards the guest room that was allotted to her. Ever since she had taken the role of their caretaker, she was meant to live with the old couple in the villa. It was only on weekends or on special occasions when she could go back to town and meet her family & friends.

Leaving the door open, she opened her wardrobe and rummaged through her dress. “This is the second time he’s stained my clothes today, I don’t think I'll be left with any of this pattern of him spilling something or the other continues,” she huffed and pulled out a grey tribal print maxi dress.

Untying the apron around her waist, she flung it over the bed followed by the long dress that was stained with tea. Standing only in the long sleeves shirt that barely covered her exposed legs, she gently unbuttoned it and drew in a deep breath as it slipped off her svelte body.

Holding the dress in hand, she examined her semi-naked body that was covered in the intimate parts when all of a sudden she heard Armande’s voice.

“Yup, you’re fuller in the right areas,” he said and scared the daylights out of her.

Pulling the dress closer to her body, she hurriedly tried to cover the front portion and turned to face him. Embarrassed and shocked that he had dared to venture into her room without knocking, she stared at him with wide eyes and looked at him questioningly.

“What are you doing here, go away!” She said and crunched her brows in nervousness.

“Why should I go away, this is my room you’re roaming naked in,” he stated and continued standing in the doorway.

“I think you’ve mistaken, but this is my room with my belongings, can’t you see I’m changing? Don’t you have the decency to knock before entering?” she raised her voice and scolded him while he merely smirked.

“Look whatever your name is, this villa belongs to me and so does every room in it. I don’t appreciate uneducated locals telling me how I should conduct myself, though I wouldn’t mind the ranks of you wandering naked in here,” he remarked and smirked mischievously as he scanned her body. 

“My name is Ibha, I’m the caretaker of your grandparents and I live here with them. I’ve been allotted this room so I would appreciate it if you would step out immediately or I’ll…” she paused and threatened him.

“Or you’ll what?” Armande narrowed his eyes and began walking towards her.

Seeing him approach her, she gulped and recoiled. Clutching the dress closer to her chest she pressed her back against the wardrobe and began breathing heavily. “Or you’ll what…Ibha?” He smirked.