No Safe Zone Page 3

  Despite the fear and adrenaline pumping through her, she pulled away from the door, closed it silently and tiptoed back into the room. Luckily the man had been facing away from her. Had he shot Khanna – was that a gunshot she had heard? She needed a place to hide. Quickly. She heard heavy footsteps approaching. Heart in her mouth, she wheeled towards a door. It led into a washroom. She hurried inside and waited, holding her breath.

  She heard him moving around in the room, opening and closing drawers. A few unbearably long minutes later she heard the outer door close. She waited for a bit longer before cautiously sticking her head out. The club was swarming with people. What if someone spotted her sneaking around in Khanna’s office with his corpse lying in the corridor? Or perhaps, she could blend into the crowd without anyone noticing? The thought propelled her out of the room as if she was being chased by a pack of hounds.

  The long hallway leading to the lounge was empty and her heart beat out a rapid tattoo matched only by her clicking heels. At the end of the corridor, she slowed down. She cast a nervous eye around the lobby which now only had a few people sitting around and talking animatedly. Quickening her pace she hurried past the mustachioed guard who opened the door smartly for her.

  ‘Ma’am, should I call your chauffeur…’

  Before the guard could finish his sentence, she was dashing towards the car park. She prayed nobody had seen her come out of Khanna’s private office. All she had to do was locate the taxi driver who had ferried her to the club from the guest house where she’d checked in, and she would be home and dry. Gosh! She had no idea of the make of the car or its number. All she remembered was it had been white. There was a sea of cars in front of her and almost every other one was white! Panic began to fog up her brain.

  She dipped into her handbag for her cell phone in which she had stored the driver’s number. Her fingers closed around something unfamiliar. She pulled it out and nearly dropped it in fright – Khanna’s tablet. She’d no recollection of when she’d thrust the device in her bag.

  Casting a quick look behind her to check if anyone was following her, she froze. A man in a blue-and-white T-shirt with the Polo Club logo on it was talking to the guard. Khanna’s attacker too had worn a tee in the same colour combination and now the guard was pointing him towards her.

  Heart thundering like a runaway train, she ducked down and weaved her way between the cars as fast as it was possible to do so in an ungainly crouching posture. Too terrified to take a peek she knew she had to keep moving. She hoped she would be able to make her way to the exit before the man caught up with her. Once out on the street, it would be easier to hop into an auto-rickshaw or lose herself in the crowds. Or, so she hoped. Her handbag brushed against the door handle of the car and it began to emit an ear-splitting alarm making her jump out of her skin. That was all she needed!

  Holy Crap! The man in the blue and white tee was coming straight at her. There was only one thing she could do now: run as fast as her heels would let her.

  Three

  Kabir walked to where his gleaming motorbike was parked, all the while trying to call Zayed. Disgusted at the ‘unreachable’ message that kept playing, he thrust the phone into his pocket and put his helmet on. It was best to have a face-to-face interaction with his partner. Hitting the ignition he revved the bike out of the car park only to find the exit blocked by honking vehicles on both sides of the gates. Impatient to get out, he turned around and sped down to the other end of the car park.

  A woman in a short dress was running full tilt at him. As if she was being chased by the devil and completely oblivious to the fact that she was on a collision course with a speeding bike.

  He swerved to avoid hitting her but with cars parked all along on both sides, there wasn’t much room to manoeuvre. Grinding to a halt a hair’s breadth away from her, he let fly a vile curse.

  At the very same moment, she grabbed at him, trying to save herself from hitting the asphalt.

  He heard his shirt rip down the front. His hand shot out and grabbed her around the waist.

  She was breathing hard, her forehead slick with sweat and her eyes burnt with an intensity even her fear couldn’t mask. The same intensity that held him in thrall all those years ago.

  His breath whooshed out of him as she flung her arms around his neck to stop herself from sliding down.

  ‘Qiara!’

  She struggled for breath, ‘H – help. Please…’

  She dragged her arms away from his neck – and leaned against the front of the bike for support.

  He pulled his helmet off. Their eyes clashed and he saw, reflected in those limpid brown eyes a gamut of emotions – panic, bewilderment and a flash of gut-wrenching hurt. But they were gone in the blink of her eye.

  She wrenched herself away from him, as if scalded by his touch.

  ‘Goddamn it,’ she cursed between pants. ‘Of all the people to run into, it had to be you!’

  Kabir often wondered what it would be like to run into her again. Would she smile politely at him? Or perhaps, ignore him? He should have known that with Qiara it would be nothing short of dramatic.

  His mouth twitched in a bitter smirk. ‘Happy to oblige. Why on earth are you running as if the devil is behind you?’

  Her chest rose and dropped, making it difficult for him to keep his eyes away from the beads of sweat that glistened in her cleavage.

  ‘My brain is still trying to process which of the two devils I should be running away from.’

  She hadn’t lost her sharp tongue. Still the same old Qiara!

  He looked down the road but couldn’t spot anyone. ‘Seems like you have outrun him.’

  Her eyes were fixed on his torso, now fully exposed, thanks to her shirt-ripping act.

  He grinned. ‘If you’re done admiring my body, perhaps you could tell me who you’re running from?’

  ‘Don’t get any ideas!’ She turned her face away to hide the blush. ‘It’s just panic. It’s not every day that a girl witnesses a murder.’

  ‘Murder? In the Polo Club?’

  The very next instant, Kabir grabbed her by her arm, pulling her away from the kerb, so she didn’t stand out like a target waiting to be hit.

  ‘Ouch! That hurt,’ she yelped.

  ‘Consider yourself lucky you haven’t caught a sniper’s bullet. That would hurt much more. Now, hop on.’

  She gulped nervously. Ranveer’s killer was probably creeping up on them, ready to attack. No sooner had the thought crossed her mind, than a whiff of hot breeze skimmed her cheek. Something shot through the space between them and a metallic thunk ricocheted in her befuddled brain. She swung around to find a neat hole punched into the body of the car behind her.

  ‘Oh my God!’

  Fear made her leap away and crash right back into Kabir.

  His broad shoulders took her weight without even bucking at the impact. His arms closed around her.

  ‘Come on! We have to get out of here fast!’

  She scrambled up behind him, side-saddle, and even before she’d balanced they were speeding away. She grabbed at his waist to keep herself from toppling over and pulled her dress down with her other hand.

  ‘Heck!’ she muttered to herself, ‘If I’d known if I’d be chased by a killer, I’d have come appropriately dressed.’

  And what about the ‘inappropriate’ sensations that were coursing through her? She shook her head. Fear was making her edgy, not the hot bod she was clutching on to for dear life!

  Within moments they streaked out of the car park, the wheels scrunching the gravel beneath, winding their way through traffic to the main thoroughfare.

  The drama of the morning had begun to take a toll on Qiara’s nerves. The small guesthouse where she was staying was tucked away in a quiet leafy street in a residential neighbourhood of south Delhi. From her vantage point at a first-floor window table in the tiny dining room, she could see a row of posh bungalows till the end of the street.

  Wrapping her
fingers around the cup of coffee, she sneaked a look at the man sitting opposite her. Kabir. Definitely a new improved version; bulkier than the lanky, reed-thin younger Kabir she’d known. He had filled out nicely in all the right places and she had ample proof of that. Her hands still tingled from the contact with his corded muscles. Those abs were so tight, so perfect, they sent a delicious shiver through her. He had not lost his swagger either – but now it came with the stamp of confidence and authority, instead of the put-on macho of his younger self.

  His gaze was on her, assessing her with those amber eyes topped by thick eyebrows and broad forehead. A nerve throbbed in his chiselled jaw, darkened by the hint of a shadow. If anything he was sexier than ever and she grasped the cup harder trying to control her insane desire to reach out and flick the lock of dark hair that had fallen on his brow.

  He took a cigarette out of his pocket and put it to his finely etched lips. ‘Do you mind if I smoke?’

  She simply shook her head. There was a deeper timbre to his voice that she didn’t remember.

  Lighting the cigarette, he asked, ‘How’re you feeling?’

  She took a sip of her capuccino. Ouch! The hot liquid scalded her tongue, snapping her out of her lust-induced scrutiny.

  ‘Weird.’ In more ways than one! The word came out as a squeak and she cleared her throat.

  ‘How am I supposed to feel? I saw a man being killed, I had a bullet almost graze my cheek, and I crashed into someone I never wanted to set eyes on again. All within a span of a few hours of landing in Delhi. Pretty traumatic, right?’

  Not to speak of coping with this bizarre combination of lust-and-self-loathing that was making her go both hot and cold simultaneously.

  She put the cup down on the table gingerly. She was on the point of losing it – that too in front of Kabir. So much for all her resolve to stay strong and not betray her feelings.

  His jaw tightened ever so slightly and he bit out, ‘Maybe you should go to your room and rest for a while. When you’re feeling up to it we can talk.’

  Taking a deep steadying breath she said, ‘There’s nothing to talk about. I had a work-related meeting at the Polo Club. While we were talking in his private office, there was some sort of commotion outside. He went to check and the next thing I knew he was lying dead. I ran for my life. On the way out, I noticed the attacker was chasing me.’

  Kabir watched her intently as he puffed at his cigarette. Her nerves were on edge and his penetrating gaze only made her more jumpy.

  ‘What? Why are you staring at me like that?’

  He shook his head and blew the smoke away towards the open window.

  ‘I think you need to rest awhile. Go up to your room. I’ll be here waiting for you.’

  ‘Stop patronizing me. I’m fine now. You may leave and carry on with your life.’

  ‘Not happening. You’re not safe. Besides…’

  ‘Since when have you become my self-appointed guardian?’

  He shrugged. ‘Stop behaving like a child and I’ll stop patronizing you.’

  His icy cool retorts were making her gush like a hot water geyser. ‘Why do you want to put yourself in danger because of me?’

  He took out his wallet, placed a few notes under the cup and gave her a look that was pure, unadulterated lust.

  ‘I have my reasons.’

  Her pulse was racing as if she had run a marathon. Could it be that she was projecting her own feelings on to him? She snatched up her bag and got up to leave.

  ‘Qiara.’

  His hand snaked out to grab hers.

  ‘This situation is not of my making. But your safety is my first concern. Let’s not make things more difficult than they already are.’

  She should be glad he felt duty-bound to protect her. Instead it riled her even more. Coming from him that was really rich, she reminded herself. Not so many years ago – though it did feel like a million – he’d walked out on her without so much as a word, a glance, a goddamn goodbye! And now he was spewing words like safety, concern. Whatever!

  ‘Whoa! Whoa! You haven’t changed a bit, Kabir.’ She jerked her arm away as if she had been stung. ‘You’re just as rude and arrogant as you always were.’

  His face cracked in a genuine smile for the first time and she nearly swooned as it hit the centre of her being with deadly precision.

  ‘Yup…that sounds like good old me.’

  She stormed off without a second glance at him.

  Kabir crushed the cigarette butt into the ashtray with more force than was required. Why did she have to come back into his life? He’d put her out of his mind years ago – and here she was raking up all those emotions he’d buried forever. From the look of it she wasn’t exactly elated about ‘crashing’ into him. And could he blame her? From her perspective, he’d behaved like a perfect cad. One minute they had been planning to elope, start a new life together and then he’d simply disappeared without any explanation.

  Guilt sucker-punched him. He was done feeling guilty about something he had no control over. Besides, it was too late for remorse and thoughts of what could have been. Fact was, it had been ten years and they had both moved on. There was no point in revisiting the past and raking up stuff that was best left buried.

  He needed to focus on his assignment. Of course, he would do his best to make sure she was safe and unharmed. The only thing to do under the circumstances would be to ensure that she narrated the morning’s incidents to a responsible police officer. There were a handful of very efficient people whom he could contact to look into the case. They would also make sure she was safe during her stay in Delhi. And then, they could each go on their own way. Problem was, with all the tension crackling between them, she wasn’t about to make his task easy. Heck! He was already tying himself up in knots thinking of her clinging to him during the ride here.

  He glanced around the near empty dining room to call the waiter, and his gaze fell on the muted TV screen. The Polo Club murder was already making news. Even before he could ask the waiter to amp up the volume, a picture of Ranveer Khanna flashed on the screen with the ticker tape running below it – ‘Ranveer Khanna murdered at the Army Polo Club.’ Shit on toast!

  Qiara had been with Khanna moments before he was killed. This put a whole new spin on his investigation. How did Qiara know Khanna? And who was the attacker – was it all linked to the NCA job?

  His cell phone beeped. Zayed’s name flashed on the screen.

  ‘Where the hell have you been? Your phone has been out of reach for the last half an hour.’

  ‘Ranveer Khanna has been murdered,’ replied Kabir, his eyes focused on the TV.

  ‘That’s old news. Did you find out what happened?’

  ‘I had already left the Polo Club.’

  He needed to talk to Qiara first before revealing anything to Zayed.

  ‘What the…’

  ‘Zayed!’ He restrained himself from pouring out a string of four-letter words. ‘I’m not an astrologer. I had no way of knowing…’

  Suddenly the image of Khanna arguing at the spectator stands flashed in his mind.

  ‘Wait a sec. I may have the killer’s picture on my camera.’

  ‘Good, you may just have saved your job,’ came Zayed’s snarky reply.

  ‘And you, my partner, have yet to save yours. Why don’t you cough up the info that you are holding back?’

  There was a moment’s pause before Zayed said grumpily, ‘You should keep your cell switched on if you want information. The NCA suspects Girls Rock! to be a money laundering front for Khanna. In fact, a representative of Girls Rock! was supposed to be meeting with Khanna this morning.’

  Kabir felt his gut wrench tight.

  ‘Do you have a name for this person?’

  ‘Yes, an ID too. Pretty hot chick with a strange name.’

  The knot in his stomach tightened as Zayed voiced the name of the woman who had suddenly turned his world upside down.

  ‘Qiara Rana.’


  Qiara stepped into the shower and turned her face up to the water. Her sensitive skin bruised easily but right now she revelled in the scalding heat of the water. She wished it would wash away the images running like a terrifying slideshow in her head. The most prominent one being that of Ranveer Khanna lying in a pool of blood with the killer bearing down on him. The other of a bullet whizzing past her face and embedding itself in the car behind her. How long before he found her again? What if Kabir hadn’t been there to rescue her?

  Kabir!

  Of all the people in this overcrowded city of twenty-odd million, it had to be him! It had taken her long enough to reach some level of equilibrium about her feelings for him. She truly believed she had stashed away the memories and moved on. Believed she’d been healed with nothing but scars to show for her wounded heart. But it had all been an illusion. The moment she had set eyes on him, the emotions had all come rushing back. It was like pulling back a curtain and there she was…yo-yo-ing between wanting to kiss him senseless and doing bodily harm to him.

  She turned the water off and snatched a towel giving her head a vigorous rub. The multitude of thoughts and emotions zipping through her was draining every scrap of her energy. She needed to focus; draw up a plan of action. But she didn’t know where to begin and how to extricate herself from this situation. She wanted to call up Sam and tell her all that had happened since she’d set foot in Delhi. But she knew she couldn’t. Sam would simply tell her to take the first flight back to London.

  Clearing up the fogged-up mirror with the edge of the towel, she glanced at herself. Her eyes moved to the tattoo that was inked just below her collar bone. A one-winged butterfly in flight. Moving her fingers over it, she took a deep breath. Flight. That was what the only option. Flight from a city that was closing in on her. Flight from a killer out to get her. Flight from the man who had rescued her. Only then would sanity return.

  The day’s tumultuous events had made her forget her mission: she was here to find out about Reshma’s whereabouts. She would get back to her ordered life in London eventually but there were things she had to do right now.