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The merchant had produced pattern books, showing some classic floral and pineapple designs originating from the eighteenth century, and others showing fabrics in indigo and madder, as well as assuring her that his cousins would be pleased to make up samples of fabrics for her in her own choice of colours.
The merchant’s daughter-in-law came through from the living quarters at the rear of the shop, bringing tea for them to drink, with two young children clinging to her sari. The younger of them, a little girl with huge dark-brown eyes and soft curls, was only just learning to walk, and when she lost her balance Keira reacted immediately, catching her in her arms to steady her. Was there anything quite as wonderful as holding a child? Keira wondered tenderly as the little girl looked up and smiled shyly at her. A sense of loss filled her. There wouldn’t ever be any children of her own for her.
Jay watched Keira with the fabric merchant’s grandchild, and, seeing the look on her face, wondered what had caused it. Why was he so curious about her? She meant nothing to him, and that was the way he intended things to stay.
The fabric merchant was telling Keira that if she were to let him have some drawings and details of what she wanted he could arrange to have some sample patterns made up for her. Keira handed the little girl back to her mother and reached for her notebook and the samples, swiftly selecting colours and patterns in the combinations she thought she would need, her manner now businesslike and focused.
She had a easy rapport with people and a natural way of communicating with them, Jay observed. She respected their professionalism, and he could see that they in turn respected hers.
It was very important to him that this new venture was not just a success, but that it achieved an almost iconic status as a leader in its field. His heritage and his blood demanded that from him, as much as his own nature and pride.
Jay knew that there were those who envied him his success and would like to see him fail, but they never would. He was determined about that. He never lost—at anything. And this woman was going to learn that just as his business rivals had had to learn it.
And yet, despite the fact that on a personal level Keira pushed all the wrong buttons for him, as a designer he couldn’t fault her. Somehow, without him being able to analyse just how she was doing it, she was creating an image for the properties that truly was cosmopolitan and yet at the same time very much of India. He had almost been able to see it taking shape in front of him as she talked to suppliers and merchants, her slender fingers reaching for small pots of paint and dye, or pieces of fabric, her quick mind picking up ideas and then translating them to those with whom she was dealing.
Professionally she was, as Sayeed had said, perfect for this commission.
Keira thanked the fabric merchant for his help, and got up from the cushion on which she had been seated whilst they talked with the single fluid movement she had learned from Shalini, ignoring the hand Jay had stretched out to help her. The last thing she wanted was to risk any physical contact with him, even if by doing so she was causing his mouth to tighten and earning herself a grim look. She couldn’t think of a commission she would enjoy more than the one he had given her—it was a dream come true, and all the more so now that she had met the suppliers he had already sourced—but Jay’s presence made that dream a nightmare.
He was going away tomorrow, she reminded herself, and she was going to be working so hard that she simply wouldn’t have time to think about him, much less worry about her vulnerability to him.
It had grown dark whilst they had been in the shop, and now the street outside was illuminated with pretty glass lamps. The street opened into a small square where several men sat at a table enjoying shiska pipes, the bright colours of their turbans glowing under the light from the lanterns.
A group of young female dancers wearing traditional dress, followed by several musicians, swirled through the square, on their way to one of the restaurants to dance for the diners, Keira guessed.
The evening air was vibrant with the scents, sights and sounds of India. They throbbed and pulsed in the warm air, taking on their own life form—a life form that was softened and gentled by the nature of the people.
