Ram’s doing, she suspected immediately.
She stretched, revelling in the scent of clean sheets overlaid with Ram’s delicious scent. The extraordinary events of the previous day came back to her like the most wonderful dream, but when she turned to look for Ram there was no sign of him.
He’d let her sleep. So she’d take a shower and then place a call…
The receptionist on board put Mia straight through to Ram. ‘Hey, bad boy,’ she said, feeling all warm inside. ‘What am I supposed to wear? I only have one dress with me—and that’s looking a bit…shall we say, manhandled.’ The coral slip dress was still lying where Ram had tossed it.
‘Only one dress?’ he said in surprise.
‘This isn’t a joke, Ram. I can’t wear a towel round the ship.’
‘But I might like that.’
‘Seriously,’ she warned.
‘Okay,’ he murmured, speaking in an intimate tone, ‘I’ll set you a challenge. How many wardrobes can you find in the dressing room?’
‘I don’t know,’ Mia said impatiently, already wriggling off the bed.
‘It’s not like you to be so slow off the mark.’
She was already at the door. ‘You are in so much trouble, Ram Varindha.’
‘I like the sound of that.’
‘You did plan this,’ she said, flinging back door after wardrobe door. They were packed with the most delectable clothes.
‘I never know when I’m going to have guests,’ Ram told her.
‘Enough,’ she yelled back. ‘If you think I want to hear about the women who pass through here—’
‘It’s a brand-new yacht, Mia.’
‘So the fact that I’m the first of many is supposed to make me feel better?’
‘You’d be doing me a favour if you’d sample the selection.’
Ram was laughing as he cut the line.
Her intention had been to take a moment to calm down—but what actually happened was that she conducted a thorough search of every drawer and cupboard, and she wasn’t disappointed. Whatever she might think of the interior design on board Ram’s yacht, whoever had stocked the dressing room knew exactly what they were doing—but there were more outfits here than she could possibly wear…
Sinking down onto the sofa, she tried to get her head around what she’d found, and it was then her attention was drawn to the artwork on the walls. It was a series of paintings that told a story—a love story—an erotic love story—
The shrill chirrup of the phone jerked her out of her contemplations. ‘Did you find something to wear?’ Ram demanded.
‘Yes,’ she said distractedly, her gaze still fixed on the pictures on the walls.
‘Well, are you coming to show me?’
‘Yes,’ she said briefly, putting the phone down. The first painting showed two lovers reclining on silken cushions as they fed each other grapes. The colours were glorious, and like the others the painting had the most beautiful brushwork, but as she looked along the row she realised there was a hidden meaning in each of them. The message came over loud and clear—eating was just one sensory pleasure, but there were many more. In fact, there were quite a few she had never heard of before—
The next image showed the same two lovers, but now their clothes were sliding off their polished shoulders as they gazed into each other’s eyes beneath a purple sky. The lovers were beautifully drawn and their clothes were ravishing—flowing silks in vibrant orange and brightest pink, with turquoise-blue and gold decoration. The girl was kneeling with her arms resting loosely on the man’s shoulders—
Understanding trickled into Mia’s brain with all the speed of congealed honey forcing its way through the opening of a pipette. This wasn’t simply a stateroom, it was a collecting pen for a harem—and Ram was no longer simply her extremely accomplished lover, but a collector of living, breathing artefacts, which he kept alongside his inanimate collectables. And while this might intrigue and even arouse her in some dark and forbidden way, she had no intention of signing up for a team.
But she was here. And this was a fairy-tale set-up. Perhaps if she kept her head she could keep her pride too and experience something very special And there were the most breathtaking outfits in the wardrobes—a rainbow assortment of floating chiffon, clingy tissue-crêpe and lightweight silk.
Temptation overwhelmed her. The fact that they were traditional Ramprakeshi clothes only made the dress-up urge that much stronger.
She’d keep it plain, Mia decided, choosing the simplest outfit she could find. Modest, with a twist, was how she would describe it. She was going to start the way she meant to go on, which meant most decidedly not as one of the Maharajah’s many concubines.
Guessing she might need some help arranging a sari correctly for the first time, she chose to wear a salwar-kameez suit. The kameez was a loose shirt with long sleeves, and the lightweight salwar pants were flattering. She started out choosing a pale peach outfit trimmed with pearls—it was exquisite. But then she changed her mind and gravitated towards a strong cobalt blue that picked up the colour of her good eye. Jewelled beads in a deeper shade of blue decorated the deeply slashed neckline as well as the edges of the cuffs, and there was a matching scarf with beaded tassel fringing that glittered seductively in the subdued lighting as she arranged it around her neck. There was nothing subtle about it, but if she was going to take up Ram’s challenge to stay on board and keep hold of her pride there could be no half measures—
As if there ever could be such a thing as half measures with Ram.
But should she be going to quite so much trouble with her appearance if she was only one of a crowd?
Yes, Mia argued with her boringly sensible inner voice. Ram would take any sloppiness on her part as a sign of weakness, and she was going to leave this floating pleasure palace with her head held high.
This was a very different look for her, Mia conceded, examining her reflection in the mirror. With her hair freshly washed and curling softly together with the flattering clothes, she looked quite feminine. For the first time since the accident she opened her make-up bag and lined both her eyes with kohl. The effect was startling. Even her damaged eye looked reasonably okay.
She was almost prepared to go commando in that respect and had left her eyepatch on the shelf. She was feeling positive right up to the moment when she slipped on a pair of jewelled sandals that had clearly been handmade to tone with the suit. She was perched on the edge of the bed admiring them…admiring the fit—
Springing up, she quickly realised that this wasn’t a variety of clothes for a variety of guests young and old—or even for a selection of women of all sizes, as she had first suspected—but a very particular collection to suit and fit a particular woman. Every single piece of clothing and pair of shoes was in her size.
A thrill of triumph and relief rushed through her at the thought of all those phantom women—defeated without a blow being struck—and another that Ram had done this for her. But that didn’t let him off the hook. He’d made some pretty nifty moves to get all this in place in the short span of time from their first meeting at Monsieur Michel’s salon to his boat slipping out of the harbour. And yes, money could buy most things and have them delivered to your door—but not her.
Stormy weather? Mia secured her eyepatch in place. Ram had better batten down the hatches; there was a hurricane on the way.
She looked like a fallen angel swooping down on him. When Mia stormed into the saloon to confront him he knew exactly what was on her mind. That was the trouble—they knew each other instinctively, but they had yet to get to know each other on a more everyday level.
He guessed Mia had been working up this tantrum out on deck—she was windswept. Her eyes were dark with passion, and her hair framed her angry face like a thunder cloud.
She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw him comfortably seated on the sofa. ‘Come in,’ he said as if all was well with the world. ‘Sit down,’ he invited politely, indicati
ng the sofa facing his. ‘You look—’
‘Nice?’ she interrupted.
‘I was about to say—a little tense—’
‘A little tense?’ she roared at him. ‘I know you planned this, Ram—so don’t you dare try to deny it. Not long in the planning?’ she flung at him with a bark of triumph. ‘These clothes are all in my size.’ Her tiny hand swept dismissively down the exquisite suit she had selected to wear, with its priceless trimming of rare, cornflower-blue sapphires. ‘How long would it take to put a collection like this together?’ she demanded. ‘You must have been planning this for ages.’
‘You do look fabulous,’ he said, refusing to be drawn. ‘I’m guessing each piece will suit you equally well.’
‘I have no idea about that,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t be wearing any of it if I had my own clothes to wear.’
‘But, happily, you don’t,’ he said, and as he raised a brow he knew they were both thinking about her pirate queen getup.
‘This had better be the last surprise you spring on me, Ram.’
‘Think twice before you say that,’ he warned.
Ram was curbing a smile while she was scowling—at the thought that he was right. He had surprised her, and she wasn’t used to gifts on this scale. She had no idea how to deal with presents from Ram any more than she had known how to react when he’d given her that dress all those years ago. And now her emotions were all over the place. Everything was happening so fast. Ram should have warned her they were sailing—but she was glad she was here. She felt so close to him—and yet she didn’t know him at all, and all this made her feel vulnerable. ‘You can’t lavish gifts on me for no good reason.’
‘I can’t expect you to walk round in a towel either,’ Ram pointed out. ‘So, why don’t we call it quits and go and have lunch?’
‘What happened to breakfast?’
‘You missed that while you were choosing what to wear.’
Unfolding his athletic frame, Ram came to stand in front of her. Taking hold of her hands, he drew her close. ‘I just wanted you to have some treats. When we reach Ramprakesh things will be different.’
When had she heard something like this before? But she could only guess how different things would be for Ram, and had to force back tears when he tightened his grip on her hands.
‘I’ve been running the country alongside my other business interests since my father’s death, but it isn’t enough, Mia. My people need me to stay with them. A distant playboy who issues directives from time to time is no use to them. They need my physical presence so I can put an end to all the corruption and make sure there’s a strong government in place. That’s why I’ve started building a house there. I don’t want to live in some vast, echoing palace. I want to open all the palaces as institutes of culture. I want a reliable health service and education for all, and—’
‘You have a vision,’ Mia interrupted softly.
Ram thought about that for a moment. ‘Yes, I do,’ he said quietly. ‘I want to slip into the country without any fuss and start work immediately. But until then…Well, why don’t we make the most of our time together?’
Could she do that? Could she forget about tomorrow until they docked?
That didn’t sound much like her, Mia concluded as she held Ram’s gaze. But what lay ahead of Ram was so much bigger than anything she would have to face. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘What I should have said was thank you.’
‘There’s no need to thank me,’ Ram assured her with a grin. ‘Shall we eat now? Oh, and by the way—the Ramprakeshi clothes suit you.’
And with biting irony made them look like a couple, Mia realised, catching sight of their reflection in the mirror. Ram was wearing traditional clothes too, and his blue-black tunic with its Nehru collar not only toned with her outfit, but suited his exotic colouring perfectly. She couldn’t help wondering what a man like Ram wanted with her when he could have anyone in the world. It wasn’t long before more doubt demons crept in. ‘This interior design work you mentioned—is that just something you made up to keep me sweet?’
‘No, of course it isn’t,’ he said with surprise. ‘You’ve seen the yacht—do I need to say more? Surely you don’t think this is how I want to live?’
‘And your house in Ramprakesh?’
‘Will be very different too—maybe you can help me—’
‘I’d love to,’ she said, wondering if she wasn’t taking on too much.
‘You can do it, Mia,’ Ram said as if he’d read her mind. ‘I know you can.’
‘You have a lot of confidence in me,’ she said as they walked out onto the deck for lunch.
‘Should I doubt you?’ Ram demanded as he held her chair ready.
‘No.’
‘But?’
‘No buts,’ Mia said as she unfurled her napkin. In fact, no buts ever again. If Ram could do this—return to rebuild a country—surely she could handle a little redecoration. It was just a matter of scale—and, like everything else in life, confidence.
‘It’s all work in progress, Mia,’ Ram assured her as he took his seat. ‘This is as much a voyage of discovery for me as it is for you. Let’s just say we’re both embarking on a steep learning curve.’
She met his gaze and saw his vision of a better future for Ramprakesh. Whatever else Ram decided during this voyage she knew that from the moment he set foot in his homeland Ram would be an engine for change and the thought filled her with love and pride.
‘Ramprakesh is a fabulous country, Mia. Wait until you see it.’
‘I can’t wait.’ She gazed into his eyes.
‘Would you like some bread?’
‘Sorry?’ It took her a moment, and then she saw that Ram’s gaze was amused. He was telling her without words that this short, precious time was theirs and they shouldn’t waste a second of it.
Chapter Eleven
THEY were hardly inside Mia’s stateroom door before Ram was kissing her. This was everything she had ever wanted. Being with Ram had exceeded her dreams beyond anything she could have imagined and she couldn’t think about the end of the voyage now—she refused to think about it. Ram’s kisses were tender, passionate, cherishing, hot, and this was as close as two people could be—
And they were naked by the time they made it to the bed.
‘Did you imagine one helping of Mia would be enough for me?’ Ram demanded huskily as he turned her beneath him.
‘I think we’ve entered the land of excess.’
‘We’re not even close yet,’ he assured her, moving down the bed.
‘Glutton,’ she accused him mid-gasp.
‘Are you complaining?’
‘Certainly not.’ Placing her hands on his shoulders, she put Ram to work again. ‘I have no complaints—none whatsoever—except I can’t hold on—’
‘You’re not supposed to hold on,’ he said, taking her mid-scream of pleasure. ‘And with every nautical mile we travel we’re growing closer to that land of excess you mentioned…’
He wasn’t joking, Mia realised as she moved with him, relishing each fabulous sensation as Ram transported her from a deeply satisfying conclusion to yet another hungry new beginning.
‘Are you trying for a record here too?’ she demanded some time later when she was still throbbing with sensation.
‘You know how competitive I am,’ he said, nuzzling her lips with his mouth.
‘Don’t ever change,’ she murmured as a kiss became a caress, and the caress fired the hunger inside her.
‘I have no intention of doing so,’ Ram assured her as he took her again.
She didn’t mean to spoil the mood, but the closer they became physically, the more she wanted to know about Ram. ‘What?’ he said, prompting her while they were briefly resting.
‘There’s something elusive about you.’ Easing round in his arms, she stared into his face.
‘Like all the stuff you won’t tell me?’ His gaze lingered on her eyepatch. ‘School gave you the chance t
o try rally driving at an early age, and you used to be a good driver. What happened, Mia—when did you become reckless enough to bend a car round a tree?’
The recklessness had started on the night he left. But this was about Ram and she refused to be distracted. ‘My injuries are out there for everyone to see. Yours are hidden,’ she told him bluntly. ‘And whatever you’re keeping locked away from me can only have happened while I was in hospital undergoing surgery.’
‘Very good, Miss Marple. Any more insights you’d care to share with me?’
‘Don’t make light of it, Ram. I just wish you’d share those secrets with me. I understand the responsibilities you’re facing, and I know you can’t take me with you into that world.’
Ram’s answer to this was to stroke and kiss her brow. ‘What did I tell you about making the most of this time?’ he said, and, drawing her into his arms, he kissed her—lightly, deeply, passionately…‘You worry too much about everything, Mia.’
‘About you, maybe,’ she admitted, finding it increasingly difficult to keep her feelings under wraps.
‘I’m the last person you should be worrying about. I’m a mighty maharaja, remember?’ Ram laughed as he mocked himself, a blinding flash of perfect teeth against his smooth dark skin. And then he kissed her again, and tickled her, until she had to beg him to stop, by which time she was crying with laughter.
‘You don’t need to offer me a job,’ Mia murmured, lying warm and contented in Ram’s arms after they had made love again. ‘You’re right about this being a wonderful adventure, but when I go home I’ll almost certainly pick up my career—and that’s thanks to you. You kick-started my brain, my ambition, my lust for life—’
‘And for me, I hope?’
‘Do you need to ask?’ she said, sweeping a gaze down Ram’s brazenly exposed body. He didn’t even cover himself with a sheet. He just lay there, inviting attention—distracting her so she could hardly think beyond the next bout of pleasure. ‘I don’t need you to look out for me, Ram—nor must you feel you have to give me a job.’
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