A Trip with the Tycoon

by Nicola Marsh

A long camel ride across the sand dunes of Jaiselmar had been perfect for her plan. Little opportunity for conversation, lots of concentration required to stay on the loping dromedaries.

  But she hadn’t counted on arriving at this romantic haven in the middle of the desert for an early dinner, nor had she counted on the persistent attention of one determined guy.

  She’d been so close to seriously liking him last night, when he’d encouraged her to talk about her mum. To trust him enough to do that alarmed her, for it meant she was falling under his legendary spell.

  Thankfully, he’d retreated quicker than she had at the sound of Richard’s footfall after work and, while she’d been hurt at the time, she was now grateful.

  Smooth, charming Ethan she could handle—just.

  Caring, compassionate Ethan had the power to undo her completely.

  So she’d retreated too, limiting their time spent together by taking breakfast in her carriage rather than the dining car, making boring, polite small talk at lunch.

  Now, forced to be in his company on this tour, she’d maintained her freeze but, despite her monosyllabic responses, her deliberate long silences and her focused attention on the horizon, he persisted.

  For some reason, Ethan was determined to get her to respond to him as a man. Why? Why here, why now?

  They’d crossed paths infrequently over the last year and he’d been nothing but super-professional, almost aloof. So what was with the charming act?

  He’d gone from teasing to full-on flirting and, try as she might, she couldn’t maintain her freeze much longer. Under the scorching Indian sun, there was a serious thaw coming.

  ‘Pretty spectacular, huh?’

  With a weary sigh, she turned to face him, instantly wishing she hadn’t when that piercing blue-eyed gaze fixed on her with purpose.

  ‘Sure is.’

  Her gaze drifted back to the beautiful tent city silhouetted against a setting sun, the sky an entrancing combination of indigo streaked with mauve and magenta where it dipped to the horizon, a sweep of golden sands as far as she could see.

  A tingle rippled through her and she shivered, captivated by the beauty of a land she felt more for with each passing day.

  This was why she’d come—to reconnect with herself, with her past. When she’d first booked this trip she’d envisioned shedding tears, letting go of some of her anger and discovering that missing part of herself tied up in this mystical country.

  Never in her wildest dreams had she anticipated feeling like this. Not that she could verbalise what this was.

  But every time Ethan had glanced at her she felt overwhelmed, dizzy, off-kilter, alive.

  It was more than his inherent ability to coax a smile to her face, to make her laugh despite the unrelenting bitterness weaving a constricting net around her heart

  No, there was more—much more than she could handle. An off-guard glance, a loaded stare, a little current of something arcing between them like the faintest invisible thread—intangible, insubstantial, yet there all the same.

  And it terrified her.

  This journey had been about self-discovery. Well, she’d certainly discovered more about herself than she’d anticipated in the startling, frightening fact that she was attracted to a man totally wrong for her.

  ‘Let’s get something to eat.’

  She forced herself to relax as Ethan helped her down from the camel by holding her hand and placing his other in the small of her back, a small gesture which meant nothing.

  So why the heat from his palm through her thin cotton sundress, the little tingle skittering along her skin, making her wish he’d linger?

  She could blame this new awareness on India, its wild, untamed edge bringing out the same in her. But she’d be lying, and if there was one thing she’d learned through her fiasco of a marriage it was never to lie to herself again.

  As he held open a tent flap for her and gestured for her to enter, his enquiring gaze locked onto hers and she swallowed at the desire she glimpsed.

  He knew she was trying to avoid him and he didn’t care.

  So much passed in that one loaded stare: challenge, intent and heat—loads of heat that sizzled and zapped and had her diving into the tent for a reprieve.

  She was crazy. Playing it cool with Ethan had been a monumental error in judgement. A guy like him would now see her as a challenge and she’d be darned if she sat back and watched him try to charm his way into her good graces. She wasn’t interested in anything remotely romantic and, even if she was, he’d be the last guy she’d turn to.

  ‘You can’t keep up the silent treatment for ever.’

  The amusement in his voice only served to irk more.

  ‘Watch me.’

  She swivelled on her heel and he grabbed her arm, leaving her no option but to face him while trying to ignore the erratic leap of her pulse at his innocuous touch.

  ‘So I kissed you again? It was nothing. Surely we can get past it?’

  Ouch, that hurt.

  Of course a kiss would mean nothing to a playboy like him and, while she should be glad he was brushing it off, a small part of her hurt. She’d done her best to forget it, but she couldn’t.

  The kiss last night had been different from the impulsive, passionate kiss in Ambrosia the day he’d returned.

  This kiss had been filled with tenderness and compassion and understanding, his gentle consideration in stark contrast to the powerful man she knew him to be and thus so much more appealing.

  This kiss had unlocked something deep inside, the touch of his lips bringing to life a part of her assumed long dead.

  That something was hope.

  ‘Come on, Tam. What do you say we put it behind us and enjoy this lovely spread?’

  He waved towards the linen-covered tables covered in a staggering array of mouth-watering dishes she normally would’ve pounced on if her stomach wasn’t tied in knots, the hint of that pirate smile tugging at his mouth.

  How could a woman resist?

  ‘Okay. But, just so you know, I’m not interested in anything…er…what I mean to say is…’

  ‘It was just a kiss.’ He ducked down to murmur in her ear and she gritted her teeth as a surge of renewed lust burst through her at his warm breath fanning her cheek. ‘An all too short one at that.’

  ‘I’ve heard that one before.’

  ‘About it being just a kiss? Or me not apologising for it?’

  ‘Yeah, that. It’s a catchphrase of yours.’

  He laughed, released her arm, and headed for the table, leaving her torn between wanting to shake him and admiring him for not backing down.

  She sank into the chair he held out for her as a waiter bearing several silver-domed platters bore down on their table, deposited their meal, whipped off the domes and retreated with a small bow.

  The fragrant aromas of spicy curries never failed to set her salivating but tonight her stomach clenched as she realized, no matter what she said to him, he’d continue to do exactly what he liked—and that was flirt with her.

  ‘I’d like to propose a toast.’

  He picked up his champagne flute, waited for her to do the same.

  ‘To new beginnings and new experiences. May this journey bring us everything we could possibly wish for.’

  Tam stared into her flute, watching the effervescent bubbles float lazily to the surface.

  New beginnings, new experiences…hadn’t she wanted all that and more on this trip? So why was she getting hot and bothered over a little harmless flirtation?

  She knew Ethan’s reputation, that flirting would come as easily as his millions. It meant nothing to him, he’d said so. She was so out of practice dealing with a charming man she’d lost perspective. Time to chill out.

  ‘To new beginnings.’

  She lifted her glass, tapped his, before raising it to her lips, wondering if the slight buzz was from the bubbles sliding down her throat or his mischievous smile.

  ‘Let’s eat.�
��

  Silence reigned as they tucked into Jaipuri Mewa Pulao, a spiced rice packed with dried fruit, Rajasthani Lal Maas, a deliciously spiced lamb and Aloo Bharta, potato with a chilli kick, with relish.

  As each new flavour burst on her tongue the words to describe them flashed through her mind in the way they’d always done when she’d worked full-time, vindication that the time was right to get back to the workforce on her return. Rather than being nervous, she couldn’t wait.

  As Ethan licked his lips and moaned with pleasure, she laughed. ‘I take it you’re enjoying Rajasthani cuisine.’

  ‘Can’t get enough of it.’

  Popping another ladle of potato onto his plate, he nodded. ‘Want to hear a fascinating fact I heard from our tour leader?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘Rajasthan is an ancient princely state and it gave rise to a royal cuisine. The Rajas would go on hunting expeditions and eat the meat or fowl they brought back, which is why their feasts flaunt meat.’

  ‘It all sounds very cavemanish.’

  He glanced around, as if searching for something. ‘Where’s my club?’ Accompanied by a ludicrous wiggle of his eyebrows. ‘Fancy checking out my cave?’

  She chuckled, glad she’d made the decision to lighten up. Sharing a meal with a charismatic dinner companion was enjoyable and definitely more fun than dining alone, something she’d honed to a fine art in the last year.

  Though, in reality, she’d been alone a lot longer than that, Richard’s long absences put down to work or media appearances or travelling to promote his latest book. Oh, not forgetting the time he’d spent holed away with his mistress.

  Before she could mull further, he shot her a concerned glance and pushed the platter of potato towards her. ‘More?’

  Grateful for his distracting ploy, she nodded and ladled more food onto her plate.

  ‘How did you get your start as a food critic?’

  Another distraction and she silently applauded his ability to read her moods. Though it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out her expression must’ve soured at the thought of Richard and his girlfriend.

  ‘I’ve always been passionate about food and I loved telling a good story at school. So I worked in a professional kitchen for a while, cultivated my palate outside of it, immersed myself in all things food, then spent a year as a hostess at Pulse.’

  ‘You must’ve learned a lot there. That place was big—before Ambrosia opened, of course.’

  She smiled. ‘Of course.’

  She’d loved her experience in the industry: being able to give an in-depth description of an entire meal, the restaurant, its décor, how the service contributed to the dining experience. Work had never been a chore for her and, thanks to Ethan and the opportunity he’d given her at Ambrosia for the last six months, she now had the confidence to get back to it.

  ‘Can I ask you a stupid question?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Does all that writing spoil the fun of eating for you?’

  She shook her head. ‘Uh-uh. I love to eat, I love what I do. It’s as simple as that.’

  And as they made desultory small talk over dessert, Churma Laddoos—sweet balls made from flour, ghee, sugar, almonds and cardamoms—she pondered her words.

  As simple as that.

  Were things simple and she was complicating them?

  She’d wanted to expand her mindset on this trip, wanted to explore a side of her long quashed, away from the sour memories dogging her, away from Richard’s malevolent presence still hanging over her.

  While she had no interest in romance, maybe she could explore the side of her long ignored?

  She was a woman—a woman who’d had her self-esteem battered severely, to the point where she didn’t trust her judgement any more.

  Maybe Ethan could help reaffirm the woman she’d once been—a woman who’d loved to smile and laugh and flirt right back.

  She longed to be that woman again.

  But would she have the courage to try?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘IT’S beautiful.’

  They stood inside Udaipur’s Jag Niwas, the stunning Lake Palace that rose out of the blue waters of Lake Pichhola like an incredible apparition, looking out over the rippling, murmuring waves lapping the foreshore.

  When Tamara had been planning this trip with her mum, she’d wanted to stay in this dreamlike marble palace with its ornately carved columns and tinkling fountains and clouds of chiffon drapes, now a grand heritage hotel.

  Now, with Ethan by her side, she was glad she wasn’t. The last thing she needed was to stay in some exquisitely romantic hotel with a man putting unwanted romantic ideas into her head.

  She turned away from the picture-perfect view, gestured to the silver-laden table behind them. ‘You ready to eat?’

  He nodded, dropped his hand, and she clamped down on the instant surge of disappointment. ‘Business all done. The chef signed the contract in front of me.’

  He pulled out her chair in a characteristic chivalrous act she loved. If Richard had ever done it, he’d plonked his own selfish ass in it before she could move.

  ‘He’s one of India’s best. And, considering my other choice in Delhi wouldn’t budge, it’s a coup getting this guy on board. Can’t wait for him to start at Ambrosia.’

  She sat, smiled her thanks. ‘If you can’t wait, neither can I. Just think, I get to sample his Chicken Makhani and crab curry and sweet potato kheer for nothing, all in the name of work.’

  He chuckled, sat opposite her and flicked out his pristine white linen napkin like a troubadour before laying it in his lap.

  ‘It’s a hard life but somebody’s got to do it, right?’

  ‘Right.’

  Hope cradled her heart, warming it, melting the band of anguish circling it. This was one of those moments she’d grown to crave yet fear, a poignant moment filled with closeness and intimacy.

  A moment that said she was a fool for thinking she could start testing her flirting prowess and come out unscathed—or, worse, wanting more.

  He broke the spell by picking up the menu, scanning it. ‘Let me guess. You’ve already studied this in great depth and have your trusty notebook at the ready.’

  She tossed her hair over her shoulder, sent him a snooty stare that lost some of its impact when her lips twitched.

  ‘My trusty notebook is safe in my bag.’

  He raised an eyebrow and sent a pointed look at her favourite patent black handbag hanging off the back of her chair.

  ‘No notes today?’

  ‘Not a one.’

  The corners of his mouth kicked up into the deliciously gorgeous smile that had launched this crazy new awareness in the first place. ‘Well, well, maybe you’re starting to like my company after all.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  She picked up a menu, ducked behind it to hide a faint blush.

  ‘Want to know what I think?’

  He leaned forward, beckoned her with a crook of a finger, leaving her no option but to do it.

  ‘You’re going to tell me anyway, so go ahead.’

  He murmured behind his hand, ‘I think that notebook is like Bankie.’

  ‘Bankie?’

  ‘The security blanket I had when I was a toddler. I couldn’t say blanket, so called it Bankie. A frayed, worn, faded blue thing that went everywhere I did.’

  Her heart turned over, imagining how utterly adorable he would’ve looked as a wide-eyed two-year-old clinging to his blanket.

  He’d never spoken of his family but she assumed he had one tucked away somewhere; probably parents who doted on their wonder-boy son and a proud sibling or two.

  ‘Why do you think I need a security blanket?’

  ‘Because of what’s happening between us.’

  Her belly plummeted. She didn’t want to have this conversation, not here, not now, not ever.

  Darn it, until now she could’ve dismissed the awareness between them as a figment of her imaginatio
n.

  Now it was out there.

  Between them.

  Larger than life and more terrifying than anything she could’ve possibly imagined.

  She could ignore it, try and bluff her way out of it. But this was Ethan. The guy who’d helped her with the legal rigmarole after Richard’s funeral, the guy who’d given her a chance at getting her career back on track. She owed him her thanks if not the truth.

  ‘Seeing as you keep kissing me, what do you think is happening between us?’

  He paused, shifted his plate and cutlery around before intertwining his fingers and laying his hands on the table and leaning forward.

  ‘Honestly? I like you.’

  He leaned closer, lowered his voice, and she had no option but to lean closer too. ‘I like that you’ve changed since we’ve arrived here.’

  This she could handle. She could fob him off with the real reason behind her change: her journey of self-discovery, her awakening to being her own person, her enjoyment of answering to no one but herself. All perfectly legitimate reasons to satisfy his curiosity and hide the real reason behind her change.

  She shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. ‘India’s in my blood. Maybe my inner self recognises it on some subconscious level.’

  He shook his head. ‘I think there’s more to it.’

  ‘Like?’

  ‘Like you opening your mind. Like you contemplating maybe there could be a spark between us.’

  ‘I’m not contemplating anything of the sort!’

  It sounded like the big fat lie it was.

  He merely smiled, a captivating, sexy smile that made her feel a woman and then some.

  ‘Come on, Tam. Admit it. You’re as attracted to me as I am to you.’

  She pushed away from the table, stood abruptly. ‘I’m going for a walk.’

  He let her go but she knew it wouldn’t be for long. While he’d been surprisingly relaxed and laid-back on this trip, she’d seen his underlying streak of steel that had taken him to the top of the restaurant game around the world.

  He’d made every rich list the year before, had women clamouring after him. So what the heck was he doing harassing a boring, sad-case widow like her?

  She headed for the lake, head down, sandals flapping against the ancient stone path, eager to be anywhere other than sitting opposite the man she was attracted to in a palace restaurant in one of the most romantic settings on earth.