by Nicola Marsh
Slipping? More like shot.
During their journey on the Palace of Wheels he’d dreamed of surprising her in Goa, of spending a leisurely week getting to know each other in every sense of the word.
So much for that dream.
‘Ethan, my boy, good to see you.’
Dilip Kumar, his Indian representative in business matters, appeared out of nowhere, slapped him on the back as he stood. ‘This is Sunil Bachnan, the investor we discussed on the phone last week.’
‘Pleased to meet you.’ He shook Sunil’s hand, a giant of a man with a rounded belly protruding over his trousers, testament to a lifetime’s worth of chappatis and dosais, the crispy rice pancakes filled with spicy potato he’d become addicted to.
‘Likewise. I hear you’re looking to open a restaurant here?’
He nodded, resumed his seat along with the other men, grateful to be back doing what he knew best. Business.
This he could manage. Unlike the rest of his life, which had spiralled dangerously out of control since he’d landed in this mystical country.
‘Actually, I was thinking Mumbai. The growth there is staggering.’
Sunil gestured to a waiter for menus, nodded. ‘The entire country is an economic boom. Pick a city, any city and your famous Ambrosia will do big business.’ Patting his ample gut, he chortled. ‘We love our food here in India.’
‘You and me both.’
Though his appetite had vanished the last few days, a shame considering the array of amazing food on offer everywhere he went. For a guy who made his life out of food, he’d landed smack bang in food paradise.
‘Right. Let’s talk business as we eat.’ Sunil rattled off an order in rapid Hindi to the hovering waiter as Dilip raised his beer. ‘Cheers, my friend. And how is your travelling companion?’
‘Good.’
He sculled half his beer in two gulps, wishing he hadn’t opened his big mouth and mentioned Tam, not wanting to discuss her. The less he said the better, considering the constant repetition buzzing around his brain: replaying every scene of their trip, every hand touch, every smile, every kiss…
‘You must bring her to dinner. My wife Sireesha will be thrilled to have you both—’
‘Tamara’s in Goa.’
Dilip’s black eyes widened at his snapped response. ‘I see.’
‘Glad someone does,’ he muttered into his beer glass, grateful that Sunil had answered a call on his mobile and wasn’t privy to this conversation.
Trying to present a professional front to an investor sure as hell didn’t involve discussing his non-existent love life.
‘You and your lady friend are having problems?’
‘Nothing I can’t handle.’
Yeah, right, which was why he was on the east coast of India and Tam was on the west.
Dilip shook his head, steepled his fingers on his chest and wobbled his head from side to side in a gesture he’d seen many times in India.
‘If you permit me to be so bold, I have a story for you, my friend.’
Darting a frantic glance in Sunil’s direction in the hope his phone call had ended, his heart sank as the investor held up a finger at him, pushed away from the table and headed for the foyer to continue his conversation.
‘Look, Dilip, I’d rather focus on business—’
‘Patience, my friend, patience.’ He squeezed his eyes shut, as if trying to recall the story, before his bulging eyes snapped open and fixed on him. ‘When I met my Sireesha, I was a penniless student and she was engaged to the son of a prominent doctor. Our paths crossed at university one day, when she dropped her books and I helped pick them up, and from that moment I knew she was the one for me.’
‘And you’re telling me this because?’
Dilip frowned, waggled a finger at him. ‘Because I never wavered from my pursuit of her, no matter how unlikely it was we would ever be a couple. I was determined to have her and all the obstacles in our way were inconsequential.’
Ethan rubbed the back of his neck, shook his head. ‘That’s great but we’re different. There are complications—’
‘Complications, pah!’
Dilip waved his hand like a magician waving a wand. If only he could make all his problems disappear.
‘The only complication is up here.’ He tapped his head like an overzealous woodpecker. ‘You think too much, you overanalyse, you lose.’
He pointed to his heart. ‘You need to think with this. Let your heart rule your head. I know you are a brilliant businessman, so this will be foreign to you, yes?’
Hell, yeah. He never let his heart rule his head, not any more.
His mum was the only woman who’d ever had a piece of his heart and she’d taken it with her the second she’d walked out of his life and left him to fend for himself, a bewildered five-year-old with no family, no money, no home.
‘If you want her, this—’ he tapped his heart ‘—needs to rule this.’ He pointed to his head. ‘Simple.’
Was it that simple?
Was he thinking too much, overanalysing everything, obstinately refusing to relinquish control despite the potentially incredible outcome?
What could be a greater incentive to lose control just a little than dating Tam?
Dilip snapped his fingers, jerked his head towards the door. ‘Sunil is returning. For now, we do business. But later, my friend, you remember what I’ve said.’
He’d remember. But would he do anything about it?
Tamara needed a walk.
Her mum’s cooking had been amazing but the authentic Goan cuisine she consumed way too much of at every meal was sublime.
She was particularly partial to bibinca, a rich sweet made from flour, sugar, ghee, coconut milk and about twenty egg yolks, baked and flavoured with nutmeg and cardamom.
Rich, delicious, addictive.
Exactly like Ethan, though his sweetness had evaporated around the time he’d stolen her hard-fought trust in him and flung it into the Ganges.
Picking up the pace, she headed for the water’s edge, where the ocean tickled the sand, the only sound being the waves breaking gently on the shore.
Colva Beach was tranquil, lazy, the type of place to hang out the ‘do not disturb’ sign and just chill out. Her mum had said it was special but she’d always attributed her partiality to the fact she’d met her dad here. But mum had been right. This place had an aura, a feeling, a sense that anything was possible, as she stared out over the endless ocean glowing turquoise in the descending dusk.
She slowed her pace, hitched up her peasant skirt and stepped into the waves, savouring the tepid water splashing about her ankles.
As a kid, she used to run through the shallows at St Kilda beach, jumping and splashing and frolicking, seeing how wet she could get, her folks strolling hand in hand alongside her, smiling indulgently.
They’d head to Acland Street afterwards, trawling the many cake shops, laughing as she’d pressed her face up to each and every window, trying to decide between melt-in-the-mouth chocolate éclairs or custard-oozing vanilla slices.
And later, much later, when her tummy was full and her feet dragging, she’d walk between them, each parent holding her hand, making her feel the luckiest little girl in the world.
A larger wave crashed into her legs, drenching the bottom half of her skirt and she laughed, the sound loud and startling in the silence.
How long since she’d laughed like that, truly laughed, totally spontaneous?
Ethan had made her laugh last week, several times…Shaking her head, she resisted the temptation to cover her ears with her hands.
Ethan, Ethan, Ethan—couldn’t she focus on a new topic rather than the same old, same old?
With her skirt a dripping mess, she trudged up the beach, heading for her hut. Maybe a nice long soak in that killer tub filled with fragrant sandalwood oil would lull her into an Ethan-free zone?
As she scuffed her feet through the sand, a lone figure stepped onto the b
each near her hut.
She wouldn’t have paid much attention but for the breadth of his shoulders, the familiar tilt of his head…She squinted, her pulse breaking into a gallop as the figure headed straight for her, increasingly recognisable with every determined stride.
It couldn’t be.
It was.
In that instant, she forgot every sane reason why she should keep her distance from Ethan and ran towards him, sprinting, her feet flying across the sand as she hurtled herself into his open arms.
CHAPTER TEN
‘IS THIS real?’
Ethan smoothed back her hair, caressed her cheek, his other hand holding her tight against him. ‘Very.’
‘What are you doing here?’
Tamara touched his face, her fingertips skimming his cheek, his jaw peppered in stubble, savouring the rasping prickle, still not believing this was real.
‘I came to be with you.’ He brushed his lips across hers—soft, tender, the barest of kisses that had her breath catching, along with her heart. ‘There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.’
She couldn’t comprehend this. One minute she’d been alone and confused, the next he was here. For her.
‘But after what happened in Delhi—’
‘I was a fool.’
He clasped her face between his hands, his beseeching gaze imploring her to listen. ‘I owe you an explanation.’
Her response of you don’t died on her lips.
Considering the retreat and parry he’d been doing and the way they’d parted, he owed her that at least.
‘Come on. I’m staying in that hut you just passed. We can talk there.’
She stepped out of his embrace but he swiftly pulled her back into his arms, hugged her so fiercely the breath whooshed out of her lungs.
‘Tam, I missed you.’
‘Me too,’ she murmured against his chest, her cheek happily squashed against all that lovely hard muscle.
Stroking her hair, he held her, their breathing in sync with their beating hearts, and for that one brief moment in time she understood the incredible power of the emotion that had drawn her mum and dad together on this very beach all those years ago.
There was something magical about this place, something transcendental and, as the first stars of the evening flickered overhead and the faintest tune of a soulful sitar drifted on the night air, she wondered if it was time to take a chance on love again.
‘Any chance this hut of yours has a fully stocked fridge?’ He patted his rumbling tummy. ‘Feels like I haven’t eaten in days.’
‘Better than that. The hut is part of a resort so I put in an order for my meals first thing in the morning and they deliver.’
‘Great. So what’s for dinner?’
She laughed. ‘You can take the boy out of the restaurant but you can’t take the restaurant out of the boy.’
‘Too right.’ He slipped his hand in hers, squeezed. ‘So, what’s on for tonight?’
For an insane moment she could’ve sworn he wasn’t talking about food as his steady blue-eyed gaze bored into hers, questioning, seeking, roguish. And, for the life of her, she couldn’t remember what she’d ordered that morning.
Chuckling at her bemused expression, he fell into step beside her. ‘Never mind, whatever it is I’ll devour it.’
He paused, sent her a significant look. ‘Happiness does that to a man. Gives him an appetite.’
‘You’re happy?’
He stopped, pulled her close again. ‘Considering you didn’t run the opposite way when you first saw me, you’re still talking to me and you’ve invited me to dinner, I’m downright ecstatic.’
Joy fizzed in her veins, heady and tingling and making her feel punch-drunk. Sure, they needed to talk but, for now, she was happy too. Happier than she’d been in days. Heck, happier than she’d been in years.
This last week with Ethan, she’d found a surprising peace. She didn’t have to pretend to be someone she wasn’t, to fake a smile, to be poised and elegant and refined all in the name of appearances.
He saw her for who she was—a woman out to make a new start, a woman happiest with no make-up, no artifice and no platitudes.
‘I’ve never seen you like this.’
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, twisting the end around his finger, brushing the delicate skin beneath her ear.
‘What? With my hair frizzy from sea water and wearing a kaftan from a local market?’
His gaze searched her face, her eyes, focusing on her lips.
‘I’ve never seen you so relaxed. You’re truly happy here, aren’t you?’
She nodded, filled with a sense of serenity she’d never had elsewhere.
‘Maybe it’s a mental thing, knowing my mum spent half her life here and I feel more connected to her here than anywhere.’
‘It’s more than that.’
He was right. It was the first time in a long time she’d been on her own, content in her own company.
She’d been alone in Melbourne since Richard’s death but that had been different. There’d been the whirlwind of the funeral, countless trips to the solicitors, endless paperwork to tidy up and the personal fallout from Richard’s little bombshell in the form of his girlfriend, Sonja.
Here, there was none of that. She could finally be true to herself, true to her needs.
She smiled. ‘You’ve got to know me pretty well, huh?’
‘Enough to know I’ve never seen you so at ease.’
‘It’s this place.’
She waved at the endless stretch of sand, the shimmering azure sea, the purple-streaked sky scattered with diamond-like stars.
‘Not just the tranquillity, the pace of life, but everything about it. I can just be myself, you know.’
‘I’m happy for you, Tam, I really am.’
He was, she could see he was genuine, which made her like him all the more.
‘But a part of me can’t help but wish I’d found you with unwashed hair and chewed-to-the-quick fingernails and pale and sallow from pining away for me, rather than the picture of glowing health.’
She’d pined all right. She’d struggled to sleep the first night, moped around while sightseeing, dragged her feet through this sand on more long walks than she’d ever taken.
Nothing had soothed the hollow ache in her heart, the anxiety gnawing at her belly that she’d lost her chance at exploring something new, something exciting, something that could potentially be the best thing to ever happen to her.
Yet here he was, in the flesh, wearing his trademark rakish pirate smile, khaki shorts and a white T-shirt setting off his newly acquired tan.
He was gorgeous, every tantalising, delectable inch of him, and by coming here, she was hoping he’d made the statement that he was ready to explore this spark between them.
‘You’re staring.’
She raised an eyebrow, fought a blush. ‘Am I?’
‘Uh-huh.’ He ducked his head for a quick kiss. ‘And I like it. That gleam in your beautiful eyes tells me I still have a chance.’
‘Only if you’re lucky.’
Laughing at his wounded expression, she slipped out of his grasp, hitched up her long skirt and sprinted across the sand with him in hot pursuit.
She’d never felt this carefree, this spontaneous, and while Colva Beach may have worked its magic on her, it had more to do with the man rugby-tackling her to the sand as they reached the hut.
‘Hey! Don’t go trying out for your Kangaroos footy team by practising on me.’
He rolled onto his back, taking her with him so she lay deliciously along the length of him. ‘Wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, those guys are way out of my league.’
‘Am I?’
All too aware of their heated skin being separated by the sheer chiffon kaftan and cotton, she propped on his chest, the teasing smile dying on her lips as she registered the sudden shadows in his eyes.
‘Maybe you are.’
‘I was kidding, y
ou great oaf.’ She whacked him playfully on the chest, disappointed when he stood and hauled her to her feet.
‘Yeah, well, my ego bruises easily. You need to take it easy on me.’
She didn’t buy his rueful grin for a second, something akin to hurt still lingering in his eyes.
‘I’ll keep that in mind.’
Eager to restore the playful mood between them, she gestured to the hut. ‘Maybe you won’t be so sensitive once you get some food into that great bottomless pit of yours.’
He instantly perked up. ‘Did you mention food?’
She laughed, opened the door. ‘Kitchen’s on the left. Dinner’s ready to be heated. I’ll just take a quick shower before we eat.’
While she preferred the au naturel look here, she felt distinctly grubby in the presence of his sexy casualness. That glow he’d mentioned probably had more to do with a day’s worth of perspiration than any inner peace.
‘Right. See you in ten.’
She held up one hand. ‘Make that five. I’m starving too.’
Before she could move, he captured her hand, raised it to his lips and placed a hot, scorching kiss on her palm and curled her fingers over. ‘I’m really glad I came.’
‘Me too,’ she murmured, his kiss burning her palm as she kept her hand clenched, backing slowly into the bathroom, not breaking eye contact for a second, waiting until she all but slammed the door before slumping against it in a quivering heap, her hormones leaping as high as her heart.
Ethan headed for the tiny kitchen, drawn by the faintest aroma of fish, onions and ginger.
For a guy who hadn’t been able to face food in the last forty-eight hours, he was ravenous.
Not just for food.
The instant he’d laid eyes on Tam, the craving was back, so intense, so overwhelming, he wondered how he’d managed to let her walk away from him in the first place.
All his doubts had washed away on the evening tide as she’d run towards him, her incredible green eyes shining, her smile incandescent.
He wasn’t a romantic kind of guy—dating arm-candy women who liked to be seen with rich guys took all the gloss off romance—but, if he were prone to it, he’d say their reunion had been picture perfect, the type of moment to relate to their kids, their grandkids.