"Love, like everything else in life, should be a discovery, an adventure, and like most adventures, you don't know you're having one until you are right in the middle of it."
- E.A.Buchianeri 'Brushstrokes of a Gadfly'

It was quite late the next morning when Ishita finally woke up.

She smiled as she sat up in bed, thinking back to the night before. She could not believe how bold she had been to kiss him in that way, but after what they had shared, a simple goodnight had not seemed enough. She could still remember the roughness of his stubble under her lips, still smell his cologne.

Her smile deepened as she slid out of bed, grabbing her dressing gown on the way to the bathroom. She couldn't wait for the day ahead - she knew it would be their last here together, and she had a feeling it would be a beautiful day.

Raman was already in the living room when she walked in half an hour later. He was wearing a black v- necked long sleeved t- shirt over jeans, and was busy typing into his laptop. His chin and cheeks were covered with a light stubble and his short hair curled over his forehead.

"Toh jaag gayi kumbhkaran?" he asked, his eyes still fixed on the computer screen. (So you're awake sleepyhead")

"Have you had breakfast Raman?" She asked, ignoring his quip about her lateness. "I'm just about to make myself some"

"Yes, thanks, an hour ago" he finally lifted his eyes from the computer, then paused, awestruck.

Lamenting her limited wardrobe this morning, Ishita had had a brainwave.

Among the souvenir shopping that she had with her the night of the accident was a long red woollen shawl she had bought as a present for her amma. She had put on her snug black wool pants and black skivvy, then tied the shawl across herself like a tunic, securing it with pins. Her black belt, tied tightly across the tunic, emphasised her slim waist, while at the same time highlighting her curves. She had brushed her long hair until it fell in glossy waves past her face. Her make up was minimal, as always, but she had painted her eyes with kohl, so that they appeared even bigger.

Raman's hand stayed paused above his computer as he stared at her.

After their emotional discussion the previous night, he had been determined to act normal around her, so that he could try to keep a hold on the emotions that kept pushing him closer and closer to her, and to his doom.

But one look at her and his resolve faltered.

She was looking ethereal today - like some gypsy queen of folklore - her glossy black mane and olive skin perfectly set off by the red of the cloak like garment she had wrapped tightly around her. And those curves ... he gulped and then took a deep breath.

"Raman" she was saying. " Kya hua?" ( What happened?)

"Kuch nahi" he replied, tearing his eyes away from her. " Tum jao, breakfast karlo." (Nothing. You go and have your breakfast)

When Ishita returned to the living room twenty minutes later, Raman was standing by the windows gazing out. It was another beautiful day. The snow still glistened in the white world outside, but the winter sun was shining brightly.

He turned as Ishita approached.

"Mehta's people called" he gestured with his phone. "The road clearing is well underway, they should have everything cleared tonight. We can leave first thing in the morning."

"That's good" Ishita replied, ignoring the searing disappointment that engulfed her. "I"ll be able to attend the two final days of the conference."

"I'll need to leave for India immediately"

As he spoke, Raman wondered if he had imagined the look of disappointment that had instantly clouded her face at his words. That look had mirrored his own feelings of not wanting this little interlude to end.

"I'll drop you off at your hotel tommorow" he continued.

"Thanks Raman" Ishita came to stand beside him and they gazed at the frozen landscape together.

"Jaante ho" she murmured dreamily. "I always used to watch snow fights in the movies and dream about playing in the snow myself". She glanced up at him "How about it?"

He threw back his head and laughed.

"Oho Madam, ab bachi nahi ho jo snow fight karogi. Don't look at me, mujhe nahi bheegna hai is thand mein" (You're not a child to have snow fights. And don't look at me, I don't want to get wet in this cold weather"}

"Pranth" she muttered under her breath. "You're no fun"

"Keh lo jo kehna hai, tum jaisi moti ke saath mein risk nahi le sakta" (Say what you will, I'm not about to take such a risk with someone as fat as you)

"You...you're so rude...so insensitive". She stepped back from him and glared up, gesturing at her herself. "Kaun si angle se moti lagti hoon mein?" (From what angle do I look fat)

He ran his eyes up and down her body, his grin fading as he feasted his eyes on her luminous beauty and her luscious curves. He had teased her to try and diffuse the intensity he could feel between them, the awareness that threatened to derail his self control. But nothing, it seemed, could stop his treacherous mind from imagining her in his arms, imagining her lips beneath his, petal soft, parted for him, those sinful curves, straining against his hardness, closer and closer...

He gulped and shook off the image, taking refuge in humour again.

"Sorry Ishita" he chuckled. "Kitna asaan hai tumhe uloo banana" ( Its so easy to make fun of you)

"Acha suno" he said quickly as she stood fuming. "Snow fight na sahi, but I wouldn't mind going for a walk. Chalogi?" ( Ok, listen. Leave the snow fight aside, but I wouldn't mind going for a walk. Will you join me?)

"No" Ishita hissed at him.

"Sorry baba. Kaan pakkad ke sorry" And he held his ears, pouting endearingly at her.

He looked so like Ruhi in his contrition that Ishita could not help but smile.

"Good girl" he said, relieved. "Go get your coat, gloves and muffler. I saw some snow shoes in the laundry. What size are your feet?"

Ten minutes later, Ishita was back wearing her coat. She carried a wool cap, her gloves and muffler in her hands. Raman was waiting for her, carrying a pair of snowshoes in his hands. He had already put on a pair, and was wearing a greatcoat over his jeans and t-shirt, a muffler wound loosely around his neck.

He put the shoes down near her feet. "Try them on"

Ishita dropped her muffler, cap and gloves on an adjacent sofa and sat down on it, pushing her feet into the shoes. She was engrossed in her task and did not notice that Raman had moved to kneel beside her.

She became aware of his presence only when she felt the soft wool of her muffler around her neck. She looked up in surprise to see him at her side, his hands holding either end of the muffler which was now around her neck.

"Raman aap kya kar rahe ho?" She asked in surprise. ( What are you doing?)

He did not know what answer to give her. He did not know what impulse was drawing him close to her. All he knew was that he was fighting a losing battle with his heart and his desires. So he kept quiet.

He wrapped the muffler around her neck and then placed the wool cap firmly on her head, pushing down her hair and gently tucking a stray curl behind her ear. Ishita shivered as he grabbed one hand, inserting her fingers into a glove.

"Raman, mein kar loongi na" she whispered, his nearness, his touch more than she could bear ( I'll do it myself please)

He nodded and handed the other glove to her, his fingers lingering on hers.

" Ready?" He asked a minute later as he opened the door and beckoned her outside.

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She did not know how long they walked in that brilliant winters morning. They followed the cleared path for as long as they could, then ventured onto the snow, sinking, falling and laughing.

They were keenly aware of each other - the intimacy and authority with which he had helped her dress moments ago had heightened their awareness of each other. They had crossed an invisible line, but neither knew how to go forward and neither wanted to step back.

He gave her his hand and she held on.

"I don't want you to fall" he said, as if that was his only motive.

"Of course" she said, as if she believed him.

Long silences stretched between them, but those silences were full of contentment, companionable rather than awkward.

He did not know how long it had been since he had felt so alive. It was nothing that she did or said. Just her presence by his side, her hand in his, and everything seemed right in his world.

She was equally content in his quiet presence. Bewildered, but content. Her heart was soaring, singing a song she had never known, but the melody of which soothed her soul.

It wasn't until they were back on the path, close to the chalet that he let go of her hand, moving away from her.

She turned around for a last look at the frozen lake when something icy hit her squarely on her shoulders. She gasped and turned only to catch him in the process of throwing another snowball at her. This one caught her on her midriff.

"Raman" she gasped. "How dare you. Mujhe bacchi keh rahe theh, and now look at you. Raavan." ( You were calling me a child and now look at you, you Raavan )

He hollered with laughter and continued to throw snow at her. "You wanted a snow fight madrassan. So what's wrong now?"

Ishita dodged his missives and grabbed at some snow, hastily rolling it into balls which she lobbied at him. He easily dodged them and came nearer to her, grabbing her in a bear hug.

"Ab tu gayi beta" ( Now you've had it babe) he told her, picking her up and dropping her gently into the snow.

She yelled as the icy goo came into contact with her, cold even through all the layers. Down in the snow, defenseless, she looked up at him, laughing at her.

Then as he gave her a hand to pull her up, she grabbed at him, pulling him down with all her might.

He fell beside her and tried to roll over as she lobbed fistfuls of snow at him. They were both laughing as he blocked her attempts, finally grabbing both her hands and rolling over her.

"Raman stop it, thand lag rahi hai" ( Raman, stop it, I'm so cold)

She whimpered as he laughed, crouched above her as she lay in the snow, one icy cold hand pinning her down, the other holding a ball of snow just above her face. Their gloves had long been lost and her woollen cap had also fallen off. Her hair was a black halo around her face as she lay on the pristine white blanket of snow.

Raman's laugh caught in his throat as he continued to look down at her. She was so beautiful that he could not help himself.

All his self control, all his restraint, the thousand reasons why he shouldn't, the differences between them - nothing mattered. All that mattered, all he knew was that he needed this woman, needed her in his arms, needed to feel her, possess her, needed her to be his. His eyes darkened with passion as he dropped the snow, bringing his hand behind her, and half lifting her into his arms.

Ishita's heart thudded erratically and the blood pounded in her veins as he jerked her to him.

She could see the naked hunger in his eyes and her own closed involuntarily, frightened by the intensity of need that she could see.

His warm breath fanned her face as his mouth inched closer to hers.

Ishita could feel each inch of his body as it touched hers, warming her despite the wet barriers betwixt. She could hear nothing but the beat of her heart. Her closed eyes still saw the passion in his, as her lips parted.

She had no will, she was no more she, she was part of something bigger, something that threatened to consume her. He was her desire and she was his.

"Wise men say - Only fools rush in
But I can't help - Falling in love with you

Shall I stay - would it be a sin
But I can't help - Falling in love with you

As the river flows
Gently to the sea
Darling so we go
Some things were meant to be

Take my hand - Take my whole life too
But I can't help - Falling in love with you

I can't help Falling in love with you
I can't help Falling in love with you
I can't help Falling in love with you

Elvis Presley