| Hawaaon Ke Paighaam | Messages Of The Wind

| The Barren Sand Dunes |

Meerab was aware of the exact second he entered the buffet hall and she had their following routine down to a science. He would walk in at 9.15am, give a perfunctory smile to the doorman and walk straight towards his reserved table, his face with its resting 'do not get in my way' expression. By day two, Meerab knew that this was a safe time to look at him; he didn't spare anyone a glance whilst he walked towards his table, sat down, placed his phone on the table and gave his personal server his breakfast order.  It was also the optimal time to see if he was wearing his signature pilot's uniform, with its crisp, white dress shirt and navy blue, double breasted blazer, and his Captain's stripes gleaming on the shoulders, or another one of his formal suits. 

It was when he propped his iPad up on the table, opened his newspaper and sat back that Meerab averted her gaze, because he'd do the same thing he did every single day. He'd lower his newspaper ever so slightly so that his wrists were placed comfortably on the table, and without any other movement, his eyes would slide up from the paper and straight to her, in one smooth move.

To an onlooker, it was just him looking casually up from his newspaper, but the one time she'd caught his eyes had been enough to send shivers zipping through her entire body. That had been day one, and Meerab had since taken great lengths to avoid a repeat. Now, she could thank the goose bumps which erupted on her arms and neckline for alerting her of his gaze. It confused her just how attuned she had become to this man in a span of few days, and more worryingly, why she had become so attuned. 

It was one thing to have a man stare at you in admiration, love or just plain, old attraction. It was a whole different ball game to have Murtasim Khan stare at you. He did it with hooded eyes which didn't betray a single thought or touch of emotion; his face serious, his eyes piercing into her like there weren't four tables and twenty people between them. It made your breath hitch, your skin tingle and throat dry up. It also, strangely enough, made her toes curl in her heels as her lower abdomen tightened. It was maddening. And Meerab hated her body being at his mercy in such a way; especially when all he did was look up.

Meerab stepped out of the shower, her damp body smelling of the sweet-scented shower balm she'd just applied. Done with the gym, they'd decided to have a little rest before getting ready for dinner out on the back lawn. The outdoor buffet was much the same as the one indoors, with the exception that you had the option to sit on the ground. Numerous rows of soft, cushioned seating were laid out with low tables in between. It was an ode to traditional desert life, and the trainees had decided on change of scenery from the buffet hall.

Wrapping her hair up in a hair-towel, she sat down to moisturise her body just as there was a faint knock at the door.

Uff.

Shrugging the robe back on her shoulders and tightening the belt, she wondered about ignoring the knock.

What if it was him?

Trust him to always interrupt when she was in no decent state to have visitors. Walking cautiously to the door, Meerab looked into the peephole and frowned, her hand going to the door handle unconsciously. Sliding the door open, she greeted her visitor.

"You found me."

Meerab smiled at Leena, who looked shockingly different to how she'd last seen her. Clad in a casual wrap-top and tailored trousers, with her caramel curls up in a ponytail, she looked chic, but a world away from the glamorous woman Meerab had met the other night. Leena opened her mouth to speak but abruptly shut it again, her brows furrowing together.

"When you said you were MK's wife, you were serious, weren't you?"

Huh?

Chuckling in confusion, Meerab raised an eyebrow.