Chapter 10

Arif was already inside the room before he realized that he had come through the wrong door.

Instead of a bowling alley or pool hall as the labels on the doors suggested, he had come into some kind of office. Obviously the private office of the manager or the owner of the place. It was exquisitely furnished, but obviously not meant for the public.

He started to turn back when something caught his eye. It was a sculpture placed in the centre of the large room. It was by a familiar hand, he had seen the sculptor's work before. Ganesh Pyne? Similar, but not quite. Ankita Dutt? Not abstract enough for her. Suhas Achrekar? No, he only worked in metal foil. And this was stone, beautiful Kota red marble, left unpolished and rugged. He took a step towards the statue, drawn by its power. Then another. And before he knew it, he was standing before the piece, admiring it.

It was a male nude. The most stunning sculpture of a man he had seen done in this particular style. And the most explicit too, leaving nothing to the imagination. It was powerfully arousing, even to a full-blooded heterosexual like Arif.

Then he noticed the paintings. And the other sculptures. And the pottery. And the framed calligraphy on the walls. And the Japanese prints.

He turned slowly, unable to believe his eyes.

The office in which he stood was a virtual museum of erotic art. There were over a hundred pieces of exquisite taste, all with one thing in common.

They celebrated the nude male body.

"Do you like my den?" said a voice.

Arif started, catching his breath.

He turned to see the most monstrously beautiful woman he had ever seen.

"I'm Lena," she said in a voice as husky as a blues singer. "Lena Kapoor. Welcome to my party."