Where the Lotus Flowers Grow

by MK Schiller

I wondered how many I’d forgotten. “You said you’d given your notice. That’s my fault.”

  “It’s the best thing for me. I was rooted to this place, afraid of leaving and loathing my life at the same time.”

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Now that you’re well, I’ll go in a few days’ time.”

  “Where?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “How can you be cavalier? Are you just going to hop on a train to somewhere? To nowhere?”

  She laughed as if I was being ridiculous. “That’s the beauty of having no one. You never have to leave a forwarding address. I speak perfect English. I’ll take your suggestion and get a job at one of the outsourcing companies.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d be open to staying in touch? I have connections. I can help you find suitable work.”

  “I think it’s better for both of us if we part ways completely.” She stared at me. “Don’t look so sad, Liam. I’m sure we’ll talk again someday.”

  “How can you know that?”

  “When you have a problem with your software or you need to order a new something digital.” She cleared her throat. “I’m going to be Lola from Seattle.” Her voice inflected a very bad southern accent.

  My laughter echoed through the room. “You sure you’re not from Alabama, Lola?”

  “I suppose I’ll have to work on my geography. Surely, they’ll train me in such things.”

  I focused back on my drawing, trying to capture the way the light illuminated her hair. She stretched and yawned.

  “Go to sleep, Mary.”

  “Will you keep drawing when you’re back in the States?”

  “Paint is my preferred medium.”

  “Painting then.”

  “Maybe.”

  A sleepy smile brightened her face. I wasn’t sure which I wanted more, to capture it on paper or just enjoy it. Did she know she sliced me deeper than a knife? Pierced through my very heart.

  “There is a scandal circulating the hotel about us.”

  I looked up from the sketch. “Yeah? What are people saying?”

  “That you weren’t ill at all. We were having a sexual liaison.”

  “For four days? That’s impressive stamina, even for me.”

  “The rumor is you have a very large appetite.” She laughed, but I could not join her.

  “I was very stupid to ask you to stay. You divulged your secret because of me and destroyed your reputation.”

  “Are you joking? I don’t care what they think. There was nowhere else I’d rather be.”

  Me either, Mary. I stifled a yawn.

  “You’re tired, too,” she said.

  “I’ll be fine.” The shower had done me in. My muscles ached from the little physical activity.

  “The medicines make you tired. You need to rest, too, Liam.”

  “I’ve slept enough.”

  She shifted to the far side of the bed. “There’s enough room for both of us.” She patted the area next to her. “Come.”

  If I got in that bed, I just might…come.

  But never had an invitation been so inviting.

  I couldn’t refuse an opportunity to be close to her. I was good, though. I laid on my back, keeping a gap between us. I looked up at the ceiling, all the while feeling the heat of her gaze on me. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t in the best shape. I doubted I could give her the pleasure she deserved. In fact, I doubted she even wanted me to. It was concern, not lust, that had elicited the invitation. I sucked a harsh breath through my teeth. “Go to sleep, Mary.”

  “Okay.”

  But she didn’t. She shifted around restlessly. She hit the pillow with her fist. She rolled all over the damn bed.

  “What the hell is wrong?”

  “This bed is too soft. I think you misunderstood me. I’m used to sleeping on the ground. I should probably go.”

  “Please stay with me. Just a little while longer.” I hated the desperation in my own voice. But I could see in her pained expression, she was fighting something, too.

  She sat up, running a hand through her messy hair. “Will you do something for me, Liam?”

  I cupped her chin. “Anything, love.”

  “It’s a strange request.”

  “Fitting, since you’re a strange girl. What is it? Don’t keep me in suspense.”

  “Will you hold me? Just hold me for a bit?”

  “It would be my honor.” I patted my chest. “Come here.”

  She leaned her head against my chest. “Yes, this will do very well.” Her breath softened.

  Her body curled around me. I stroked her hair. My erection stretched against the fabric of my shorts. Down boy, you already got your fix in the shower. But it would not be silenced. “Since we’re already the subject of a scandal, perhaps we should rid the good people of idle gossip and give them something real. You’re no longer my subordinate.” I would have said we were equals, but that would be a lie. Clearly, she was my better.

  She tilted her head up. “I want to.”

  “I am sensing a contraction in that sentence.”

  “Liam, how can I explain this to you?”

  “I don’t know, but I really wish you’d fucking take a stab at it.” Poor choice of words.

  “You’re like…Sidr, honey to me.”

  “It all makes sense now.”

  “It does?”

  “No, it sounds fucking ridiculous. What is cedar honey?”

  “Sidr. Sid—har.” She rolled her tongue on the syllables. “It’s this rare and expensive honey harvested in Yemen. Do you know who Constance Dakata is?”

  “The celebrity chief? Yes, I know her. Why the hell bring her into this conversation? I’m really not into three ways.”

  “Stop being naughty. I’m trying to explain this really difficult thing to you. Listen.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Her mouth twitched, fighting the smile. “She did this around-the-world special about a year ago. When she visited Jaipur, she stayed at our hotel. She filmed her show from our kitchen.”

  I was aware of that. Stephen had set it all up. It turned out to be great publicity for us.

  “India was her last stop. She made some traditional Indian dishes. But she did a very special dish…a dessert. The cake combined flavors from each country she visited. I was lucky enough to watch the production. Then she poured this honey over the cake. It was slow-poured sunshine. I never tasted it, yet I was already addicted to it. Silly, right?”

  “Not silly at all.” Hell, she’d just described the way I felt about her.

  “Chef Dakata said it was the most sinful and decadent ingredient she had ever come across. Afterwards, I was tasked with cleaning the kitchen. There was still some honey left in the cup she’d used.”

  “And you tried it?”

  The crimson blush swept over her skin. “I licked the cup, Liam. Licked it clean.”

  “I take it you were disappointed after all the hype?” The analogy cut harder than a rusty knife.

  “The very opposite. I’ve never tasted anything so delicious in my entire life.”

  “I’m not following what this has to do with…”

  She put her finger against my mouth. “In the months that followed, I found myself craving it again. I’ve never been a huge fan of sweets, but I purchased many just to recreate the feeling of honey melting on my tongue. Nothing compared, nothing even came close to it.”

  Was she trying to kill me? All her story was doing was turning me on. It took every fucking ounce of strength not to lick her…cup.

  “I really need you to get to the point. Get there now.”

  “Don’t you see, Liam? It would have been wiser to have never tasted it. I couldn’t crave what I didn’t know. Even now, I have a crazy hunger for it. Not hunger, thirst. Like it’s the only thing that can quench me. Yet, if I were able to obtain a jar, it wouldn’t b
e enough. Do you understand?”

  It did make perfect sense. But unlike her, I could not rationalize it. I wanted the honey too much to think how bitter my life would be once the taste dissolved. “Yes.”

  She rested her head against my chest. We lay together in silence for a few moments.

  “I’m disappointed, Mary.”

  “You don’t think it’s a good reason?”

  “It’s a brilliant reason.”

  “Then why?”

  “I always thought if I were compared to a food, it would be something more masculine. A bouillon cube, perhaps.”

  Chapter 14

  Mary

  I’d used three buckets of hot water for my bath, lathering myself with sandalwood soap, a forgotten luxury purchased eons ago. But I needed luxury tonight. It smelled like him. I loved his scent, so I’d been very liberal.

  Desperate to scour my mind of him, I’d touched myself to the point of perversion. But my dangerous thoughts refused to yield. The usual tactics provided no relief…only more remorse. Now, I sat by the fountain he’d fixed for me, surrounded by a million tiny lights under a heavy moon—a completely aroused, sandalwood-scented mess.

  I hadn’t seen him for the past two days, but I felt his presence everywhere. I ignored the lecherous remarks of my former colleagues and Prabhat’s admonishing eyes. Tomorrow, I’d go to the train station and randomly pick a destination. I was leaning toward Hyderabad, a place with many call centers and opportunities. Distance and time healed all wounds, or so I kept telling myself.

  Thoughts of Liam swirled around my head no matter how many times I tried to swat them away, squash them, or slam the door. How safe and secure I’d felt in his arms as we’d slept. I had awoken in the middle of the night. Staring down at his beautiful body, I debated between kissing him awake and pushing him away. In the end, I’d slipped from the bed quietly, stealing a few last glances like a thief in the night.

  He’d made me laugh in a way I never thought I’d do again. He’d seduced me with his sensuous British accent and his muscular form. He’d mesmerized me with his intense eyes and deep dimples. But never…never did I think I would actually care for him. I had stopped really caring for people a long time ago. I’d already experienced the gut-wrenching pain of a full heart being emptied. I wouldn’t survive it again.

  I stared at the blossom, sitting proudly in the middle of the fountain, hoping it could give me some much-needed guidance. It remained stoic and silent. The flower gave me a sense of balance, but even its beauty couldn’t control my chaotic thoughts.

  “There you are,” Pooja said, taking the seat next to me.

  “Here I am.”

  “Are you packed?”

  “Yes.”

  Pooja handed me a parchment-wrapped parcel. “Prabhat gave me this. He said I was supposed to give it to you right before you left, but I’m very forgetful.”

  She wasn’t as forgetful as she was curious. Before she could ask, I took the package from her. “It’s the cream I ordered.”

  Her gaze turned suspicious since we didn’t buy creams fancy enough to mail-order. Before she could ask, I walked away. I went to the same alcove where Liam and I had danced to Dusty. Under the dim overhead light, I tore through the paper.

  The jar of honey gleamed against the night. Beneath it was a note card, folded into a neat square, with a rendering of a hand-drawn lotus blossom. Squinting against the low light, I read his words.

  Hello Lotus Girl, you don’t belong here, but I am too selfish not to be happy to have found you. Besides all the obvious things you did, there is something else you gave me that I cannot name, but I sense it all the same. Something I lost long ago without ever realizing it. So I thank you for that. I know you said we shouldn’t keep in touch, but I’ve listed my contact information in case you ever need anything. Although I doubt you will. There is a rare strength in you that I admire.

  The honey is an extremely small gesture of my gratitude. How could you ever satisfy your hunger if you never give into your cravings? It’s beyond me, but as I said, I am a selfish man.

  Humbly yours, Liam.

  He admired me, the girl who buried herself in routine to keep all the cracks from fissuring. He credited me with restoring something in him?

  I licked my lips and curled my fingers around the honey jar. But it wasn’t the honey I craved.

  Chapter 15

  Liam

  I sat in the chair, my feet on the window ledge, drowning my sorrows with King Fischer. I closed my eyes, drumming my fingers to La Traviata-Brindisi. Some days called for Nine Inch Nails, but today I wanted Pavarotti.

  If I had turned it up another notch, I might have missed the knock.

  She stood in my doorway, wearing a loose-fitting yellow shirt and long flowing skirt. Her hair hung in cascading waves, framing her face. She held a small satchel so tightly her knuckles strained. She scanned me from my unbuttoned shirt, down to my jeans, and ending at my bare feet.

  See something you like?

  Me, too.

  “May I come in, sir?” she whispered with a slow seductive grace.

  I kicked the door open and waved her inside. “You may.”

  I shut the door, latched it, and leaned against it. “You should not call me ‘sir.’ I am not your boss.”

  “That’s right. You don’t like it, anyway.”

  “I like it too much, but then you already know that, don’t you, love?”

  “I suspected.” She turned toward me, biting her lower lip. “You look fit.”

  “I’ve been eating like an ox the past two days. I’m surprised the kitchen hasn’t run out of food.”

  “You have all your strength back.”

  “Yes.” Although, staring at her, a different type of hunger made me weak once more.

  She looked at my luggage, lying open on the bed. “You’re leaving.”

  “In the morning.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be happy to get home.”

  “I’m finishing my work here first.”

  This seemed to surprise her. “I thought you’d want to leave India after your horrible experience.”

  “It wasn’t all horrible. In fact, some of it was exceptionally good.”

  She walked over to window, looking out at the stars. God, Mary, I don’t have the strength for this. I’d been battling a civil war. My brain insisted she’d made a choice, and I needed to stay away. All the while, my dick was still debating the topic.

  She turned, her damp hair swinging. “Is this opera?”

  “Verdi.”

  “It’s lovely.”

  You’re lovely.

  The sensuality of the music surrounded us. “It is.”

  Her breasts heaved with each of my steps. I hoped to God this last dance between us would end in a merciful crescendo. She reached into her satchel and brought out the jar of honey. I paused, the gap between us feeling as large as an ocean.

  “I wanted to thank you for this and your letter.”

  “You weren’t supposed to get it until I left.” I wanted to smash the jar. Had she really just come to thank me? Keep killing me, Mary. “It wasn’t meant to solicit an invitation.”

  “Then you don’t want me here.” The jar shook in her hand.

  I stilled it, drawing closer. I bent until my mouth hovered over her ear. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Did you try it yourself?”

  “I was only able to procure one jar. From my understanding, it’s the only jar within a hundred miles.”

  “How many kilometers is that?”

  “About a hundred and sixty, give or take.”

  “Wow.”

  “I have to admit, your description aroused my…curiosity.”

  “You’re lucky then.”

  “How so?”

  She tilted her head back, her lips parted. “I am willing to share.”

  She held out the jar to me.

&n
bsp; “You first, love.”

  This was slow-poured hot seduction. The sound of the metal as it scraped free of the glass catch. The way she swiped her finger around the inside rim and brought it to her lips. Her mouth curved around her finger and she sucked, closing her eyes in bliss.

  I loved that look, but I wanted to be responsible for it. I wanted to make it happen again and again.

  She held up the jar. “You try.”

  I mimicked her movements, but instead of my own lips, I placed my finger against hers, gliding the honey across them. She opened her mouth, ready to lick what I’d given her. I clasped her chin. Her breaths quickened.

  “You think that belongs to you? You’re wrong. That’s mine. All mine.” I crushed our mouths together greedily. The rough, needy kiss was a few shades past passionate. She moaned. The honey was delicious and pure, but it was nothing compared to how she tasted. That fucking moan would get me every time.

  I took the jar and slammed it on the table. “I’m going to eat the rest of that off your body, but right now, I just want to taste you.” I walked us to the back wall, my mouth never leaving hers. Her fingers tugged my hair. I pulled off my shirt fast and carelessly. Then I lifted hers over her head. She wore a plain white bra, no lace, no fringe…just beautiful breasts. My fingers trailed down her waist. My erection, swollen and painful, begged for release.

  Then panic set in. Did I have a rubber? Fuck, how could I not?

  “Liam…” she murmured.

  “I’m having a little crisis.” Little? No…this qualified as a huge crisis. “I don’t have protection for us.” I buried my head against her shoulder. “Fuck.”

  “I do.”

  I backed away from her. “Don’t tease me.”

  “I’m not. They’re in my satchel. An American brand.”

  Sweet relief spread through me. I took her face in my hands and sought out her mouth. “Smart, beautiful girl.”

  “Shall I fetch one?”

  “Not yet.”

  “No?” She chewed her bottom lip as if worried.

  “My body’s been waiting to meet yours for a while now. I think they deserve a proper introduction.”

  I unclasped her bra. As I pulled it away from her, I had to steady my breaths. I kissed her nipples. Then I sucked and flicked and nipped them. Her fingers twisted through my hair. I was glad I’d left it long.