by Nicola Marsh
‘Hey, wait up.’
His shout had her wanting to pick up the pace and flee. Futile, really, because she’d be stuck on the train with him for another few nights regardless if she outran him now.
Slowing her steps, she reached the edge of the lake, staring into the endless depths, searching for some clue to her problem, the problem of opening her heart to trust again, only to find the guy she liked was the one most likely to break it.
She knew when he reached her, could sense his body heat behind her, and she turned slowly, no closer to answering him now than she had been a few moments earlier.
He reached for her, dropped his hands when she frowned.
‘You know I’m blunt. I call it as I see it and, deny it all you like, but something’s happening between us.’
‘Nothing’s happening.’
A sudden breeze snatched her defiant whisper, making a mockery of her feeble protestation.
‘If that’s what you want to believe…’ He shrugged, turned away, stared out over the lake to the island in the middle housing an entertainment complex where they’d have afternoon tea later, giving her time to concoct more excuses, more repudiation.
As if time would help.
She could protest all she liked but it wouldn’t change the fact that everything had shifted and she didn’t have a clue what to do about it.
How could she tell him that acknowledging the attraction between them, let alone giving in to it, was beyond frightening? How could she make him understand what a big deal this was for her?
It came to her as she glanced at his profile: so rugged, so handsome, so strong. She needed his strength, needed someone in her corner.
She’d never felt so alone as this last year, the last few years, despite being married and the implicit promise of safety it provided. And, while Ethan was the last guy she’d turn to for safety, having him here, every enigmatic, enthralling, enticing inch of him, being more honest than Richard had ever been, went a long way to soothing her fear that this crazy, burgeoning physical need for him was totally wrong.
She laid a hand on his arm, dropped it when he turned towards her.
‘Want to know what I believe? I believe you’re a good guy. You make me laugh when you tell those horrible corny jokes. You make me smile with your outrageous flirting. But, most of all, you’ve made me believe I can have a fresh start.’
Some nebulous emotion bordering on guilt shifted in his eyes before he blinked. ‘Good guy? Far from it.’
He glanced away, rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I think you’re amazing and I’m attracted to you, but don’t go thinking I’m some prince because I’m not.’
‘I gave up expecting a prince to rescue me a long time ago,’ she said, annoyed she’d let slip another indication that Richard had been anything other than the guy Ethan thought him to be.
He searched her face—for answers, for the truth?
‘You want me to drop this? Pretend it doesn’t exist?’
That was exactly what she wanted but, for one tiny moment, the faintest hope in her heart that there could ever be anything more between them snuffed out like a candle in the breeze.
‘Yes,’ she breathed on a sigh, wishing there could be another way, knowing there wasn’t.
She’d lost her mother, her husband and her identity over the last few years and she’d be darned if she lost the chance at a new start.
Falling for Ethan would be beyond foolish, destined to shatter what little of her trust remained and there was no way she’d put herself through something like that ever again.
A new hardness turned his eyes to steely blue as he nodded. ‘Fine, have it your way. But know this. Pretending something doesn’t exist won’t make it disappear.’
He turned on his heel and strode towards the palace, leaving her heart heaving and her soul reaching out an imaginary hand to him, grasping, desperate, before falling uselessly to her side.
He wouldn’t give up.
It was a motto that had got him through a horror childhood, the nightmare of his teens, and had taken him to the top of the restaurateur game.
Right now, what was at stake was just as important as scavenging for the next food scrap to fill his howling belly or opening a new restaurant in New York.
Tam had blossomed, had become a woman who smiled and laughed and raised her face to a scorching Indian sun. She ran through ancient forts. She sampled the spiciest dishes and called for more chilli. She played with the little children who dogged their steps when the train stopped, bestowing smiles and hugs and her last rupees.
This was the woman he wanted with an unrelenting fierceness that constantly tore at him, an overwhelming need out of proportion to anything he’d remotely felt before.
Now she’d let down her guard, was attracted to him. He could see it in the newly sparkling eyes, the quick look-away when he captured her gaze, the smile never far from her lips, which had been constantly downturned until recently.
And, no matter how much she wanted to pretend, this attraction wasn’t going away. Not if he had anything to do with it.
In the business arena, he was notorious for his ruthlessness, his take-charge and take-no-prisoners attitude. He didn’t have much time left with Tam and, the way he saw it, he needed to make something happen—now.
He just hoped she’d still talk to him after she discovered what he’d done to help them along a little.
She stood at the bow of the boat, a vision in a white dress scattered with vivid pink and red flowers, her hair loose and flowing around her shoulders, fluttering in the breeze.
He’d never seen anything so beautiful, so vibrant, so stunning, and his desire for her slammed into him anew.
Yeah, he was through waiting. He’d waited years already and now there was nothing standing in his way.
She glanced up at that exact moment, sending him a tentative smile, and he strode towards her, needing little invitation to be right by her side.
‘You sure we’ve got time to cruise the lake and check out the entertainment complex on the island?’
He glanced at his watch, noting the time with satisfaction.
‘Plenty of time.’
The glib lie slid from his lips and he didn’t regret it, not for a second.
Udaipur’s Lake Palace was one of the most romantic hotels on earth and if he couldn’t convince her to confront their attraction here, it wouldn’t happen anywhere.
She smiled and he instantly quashed his yearning to slip a possessive arm around her waist as his heart slammed against his rib cage and his blood thickened with the drugging desire to make her his.
‘You sure? We wouldn’t want to miss the train and be stuck in this place.’
She waved towards the tranquil lake, the Palace on the far shore. ‘I mean, staying in the hotel wouldn’t be a hardship, but stuck with you? Now, that’d be tough.’
Ignoring the flicker of guilt that he was instigating just such an outcome, he propped his elbows on the railing and leaned back.
‘Are you actually teasing me?’
She glanced at him from beneath lowered lashes and he could’ve punched the air with elation that she was lightening up enough to spar with him.
‘Maybe.’
‘Well, if this is the reaction I get for suggesting a simple boat ride, I’m going to do it more often.’
The light in her eyes faded as her gaze left his to sweep the horizon.
‘I’ll be busy relaunching my career when we get back to Melbourne and you’ll be too busy being the hotshot businessman so I think any boat rides down the Yarra are wishful thinking.’
Was that her way of saying what happened in India stayed in India? That, even if she eventually capitulated and acknowledged their attraction or, as he was hoping, did something about it, things would come to an abrupt end when they got home?
‘In that case, let’s make the most of our time cruising here.’
‘Okay.’
He didn’t push the
issue and it earned him a grateful glance, but he didn’t want her gratitude, damn it. He wanted her to look at him with stars in her eyes and hope in her heart—hope that they could be more than friends.
‘Speaking of Melbourne, can I ask you a question?’
She could ask him to take a flying leap and he’d ask how high. ‘Sure, shoot.’
‘You and Richard were mates. Why didn’t I see you at the dinner parties he was so fond of? And, when we did cross paths, it was almost like you avoided me.’
Her question hit too close to home and dread settled like overcooked Beef Wellington in the pit of his stomach, solid and heavy with discomfort assured.
Since he’d started pursuing her he’d known they’d have this conversation one day, surprised it’d taken her this long to ask and wishing it wasn’t here, now, when he was making serious headway in his quest to have her.
‘I wasn’t avoiding you.’
‘No?’
What could he say?
That he’d wanted her so badly he’d kept his distance for fear it’d distract him from his job? Or, worse, cause a serious problem between him and Rich, thus affecting their business?
That he’d wanted her so badly he’d dated a few look-alikes?
That he’d been so envious of Rich he’d taken a month off from the restaurant when they’d married?
That he’d been unable to look at the two of them together without wanting to hit something in frustration?
‘I guess we moved in the same social circles occasionally, but I was busy schmoozing or courting business deals at those events to make chit-chat. Business, you know how it is.’
He avoided her shrewd stare by looking over her shoulder at the Palace shimmering in the distance. ‘Never enough hours in the day.’
‘Yet, by all accounts, you have plenty of time to date. Hmm…’
She tapped her bottom lip, drawing his attention to its fullness; as if he needed reminding. ‘I guess what the rumour mill says about you is true.’
‘What’s that?’
‘You’re a seasoned playboy and Melbourne’s number one eligible bachelor.’
‘Playboy, huh?’
Her teasing smile surprised him, warming him better than the fiery vindaloo he’d sampled at lunch. ‘Bet you’re proud of it too.’
He pretended to ponder for all of a second before shrugging, feigning bashfulness.
‘That’s some title. Care to help me live up to my reputation?’
He expected her to leap overboard at what he was suggesting but once again she surprised him, merely quirking an eyebrow, her smile widening.
‘What? And become yet another statistic?’ She shook her head. ‘Nope, sorry, no can do. But don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll have loads of dewy-eyed, stick insect bimbos lining up when your plane touches down at Tullamarine.’
He chuckled, only slightly disconcerted by the fact that she’d described his usual dates to a T.
‘Are you implying I’m shallow, Miss Rayne?’
‘I’m not implying anything. I’m stating a fact.’
She joined in his laughter and he marvelled at the transformation from reserved widow to relaxed woman. He’d always thought her beautiful but when she was like this—laughing, laissez-faire—she was simply stunning.
‘Lucky for you, the boat’s about to dock. I don’t think my ego could take much more of your kid-glove treatment.’
‘There’s plenty more where that came from.’
‘I stand duly warned.’
As they disembarked, Ethan didn’t have a care in the world. The woman he wanted was definitely warming to him and they’d have several days together away from the train to get to know each other much better.
He was making things happen, was back in control—exactly where he wanted to be.
‘What do you mean, we missed the train?’
Tamara stared at Ethan in open-mouthed shock, his calm expression only serving to wind her up. ‘You said we had plenty of time.’
He shrugged, checked his watch again. ‘I made a mistake. Sorry.’
‘Sorry? Is that all you can say?’
As the concierge glanced their way, she lowered her voice with effort. ‘This is ridiculous.’
‘Look, it’s no big deal. We get a couple of rooms for the night, make arrangements to catch the train at the next stop.’
‘It’s not that easy.’
She sank into the nearest chair, tired after their long day, annoyed he’d made them miss the train and afraid—terribly afraid—of spending the night in this romantic hotel with Ethan.
There was a difference between not acknowledging the simmering attraction between them, the newly awakened awareness that shimmered between them hotter than the Indian sun, and trying to ignore it in a place like this.
‘We’ll miss the next stop tomorrow and that leaves the last day, the most important of the whole trip.’
‘Because of the Taj?’
She nodded, a tiny pinch of latent grief nipping her heart. ‘And the birds. My mum was obsessed with birds. She collected figurines of anything from geese to cranes and she always wanted to visit Bharatpur’s bird sanctuary.’
He must’ve caught the hint of wistfulness mingled with sadness in her tone, for he pulled his mobile out of his pocket and leapt to his feet.
‘I’ll handle this. We’ll stay here tonight and tomorrow we’ll head to Bharatpur, then Agra.’
Before she could respond, he was already punching numbers on his phone. ‘Don’t worry, you won’t miss a thing.’
‘But all my clothes are on board. I don’t have—’
‘I’ll sort everything out. Trust me.’
He held up a finger as someone answered on the other end and she snuggled into the comfortable lobby sofa, grateful to be stuck with someone so commanding.
She was tired of making decisions over the last year: when to return to work, what to do with the house, with her stock in Ambrosia, to take this trip. Sure, she’d appreciated the independence, especially since she’d been robbed of it for so long, but here, now, with Ethan taking charge, she was happy to sit back and go with the flow.
Strangely, she did trust him—with their travel arrangements, at least. He’d make things happen, he was that kind of guy.
‘Right, all taken care of.’
He snapped the phone shut, thrust it into his pocket and dusted off his hands, mission accomplished.
‘With one phone call?’
He grinned and held out a hand to help her up from the sofa. ‘My PA’s handling all the arrangements. In the meantime, let’s grab a room.’
Her heart stuttered, her pulse skipped and she broke out in a cold sweat before realising it was just a figure of speech. He meant two rooms; he’d said as much earlier.
‘Or we could get the honeymoon suite if you’re feeling particularly adventurous.’
Her shocked gaze flew to his, only to find his too-blue eyes twinkling adorably.
With a shake of her head, she waved him away. ‘As tempting as that sounds, I’ve already told you I’m not another statistic.’
His mischievous grin had her wishing she could throw caution to the wind and become just that.
‘Too bad, my bedpost needs a new notch.’
‘You’re—’
‘Adorable? Endearing? Growing on you?’
Biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing out loud, she said, ‘Pushing your luck. I’m beat. How about we get a couple of rooms?’
She only just caught his muttered, ‘Spoilsport,’ under his breath as he proceeded to charm the check-in staff as easily as he did everyone else.
Glancing around at the pristine marble floor, the majestic columns, the sweeping staircase and the glistening chandeliers, she couldn’t help but be glad.
She was spending the night in a beautiful palace on a world famous lake with the most charming man she’d ever met.
And while she could vehemently deny her insane attrac
tion to a guy so totally wrong for her, it didn’t hurt to let some of the romance of this place soften the edges of her hard resolve. Right?
Oh, boy.
There was a difference between softening her resolve and it melting clean away, and right now, staring at Ethan in her doorway, with champagne in one hand and a glossy Taj brochure in the other, she knew her resolve wasn’t softening, it was in tatters.
‘Mind if I come in?’
Yeah, she minded, especially since she’d rinsed her dress and underwear and was in a fluffy complimentary hotel robe.
If she felt vulnerable to him in her clothes, what hope did she have naked?
Oh, no, she couldn’t think about being naked under her robe, not with him staring at her with those twinkling cobalt eyes, and the mere thought had a blush creeping into her cheeks.
‘I come bearing gifts.’
He waved the champagne and brochure to tempt her. As if he wouldn’t be enough to do that. The thought had her clutching the door, ready to close it.
‘Actually, I’m pretty tired.’
And confused and drained and just a tad excited.
He’d showered too and, with his slicked-back wet hair, persuasive sexy smile and magnetic indigo eyes, he looked more like a pirate than ever.
Ethan was dangerous: too glib, too smooth, too gorgeous.
At that moment, she knew exactly why she found him so attractive. She’d married Richard because he’d made her feel safe. The older guy who loved her, took care of her, made her feel special, and while it may not have lasted, that hadn’t stopped her from cherishing the feeling of security he’d temporarily brought to her life.
Which explained why she suddenly found Ethan so appealing. That edge of danger, of unpredictability, was something she’d never experienced and, while she wouldn’t want someone like him in her life, for someone who’d played it safe her entire life, she could understand the allure.
He held up the brochure, cleverly honing in on her weak spot. ‘Share one drink with me, whet my appetite for the Taj Mahal and I’m out of here. Promise.’
