Five minutes later, he stood in front of the same young woman. He coughed politely and waited for her to lower her paper. He had seen her hurriedly lift it to hide behind as he approached and it annoyed him. As if he’d be interested in someone as arrogant as that! He liked his women soft, and attractive as she may be, he couldn’t stand aggression.
“Excuse me,” he said coolly, “but I was looking for a young woman called Indu Bennet. I’m from the High Commission in Delhi. You wouldn’t know where I could find her, would you?” He stared at the paper and saw the hand holding it tremble slightly. He coughed again. Moments later the paper was lowered.
“You’ve found her,” Indi said in a small voice. “I’m Indu Bennet.” She glanced briefly at him, then she avoided his eye and flushed deep red.
“Ah, I see.” Oliver was enjoying the moment. “Captain Oliver Hicks,” he said. “We spoke on the telephone.”
“Yes, yes of course.” Indi still hadn’t looked up. She tangled her fingers in her lap and her face continued to burn. Oliver pulled out a chair and sat down. At least she has the grace to be embarrassed, he thought. He reached for his briefcase and placed it on his knees. “I have some forms here, Miss Bennet, for your travel documents,” he announced, unbuckling the satchel. “We need to go through them and then I can take them back to be processed in Delhi. All right?”
Indi looked up. “Yes, fine.” She met Oliver’s eye and he saw for the first time the shape of her face, her dark honey-colored skin and her eyes, brown with specks of green that caught the light and looked strangely unreal. She bit her lip and the dark red color drained from it where her tooth held the flesh. His stomach flipped and he had to shift on the hard wrought-iron seat to cover his erection. He looked away, down at the forms and completely forgot for an instant what he was doing here. He swallowed, then glanced up again. “Would you like a drink?” he asked. “While we do these?”
Indi smiled. She put her hand up to her hair and tucked a stray curl back behind her ear. “Yes please, I’d love one. I’ve been dying of thirst here but I spent my last rupee on the telephone call to the commission. I literally don’t have a penny!”
Oliver laughed, rather stupidly he thought, and for no particular reason. He clicked for the waiter. “What d’you want?”
“An orange juice, please.”
He gave their order to the boy, then took a pen out of his pocket to fill in the forms. “Talking of last rupees, did the draft arrive at the bank by the way?”
Indi glanced down. “I, erm, I don’t know, I’m afraid. I didn’t have the money to get into the city from here.” She looked back up at him. “I hope you don’t mind but I was waiting for you to arrive. I hoped we might go together.”
Oliver dragged his eyes away from her face. “No, not at all.” He fiddled with the papers for a few minutes. He was cross with himself, he didn’t want to be here, he had promised Rob Jones that he’d be back just as soon as he’d filled in the forms and that they would have their boys’ night out. There was a flight leaving that evening and he had booked a seat on it. Now he was saying yes to gallivanting all over Baijur because he’d fallen for the face and the legs. He looked up and saw her watching him. God, she really was beautiful!
“It is all right, is it?” she asked nervously.
“Yes, yes fine!” he blurted. Damn, he’d missed his chance now! Stacking the forms, he slipped them back in his case and fastened it. “Shall we head off now, then?”
Indi nodded. She bent for her rucksack, her shirt gaped and Oli glimpsed the curve of her breast just visible above black lace. He stood quickly and looked out across the terrace to the lake beyond. The last thing he needed was a crush on Brigadier Bennet’s granddaughter! Jeeze! “Ready?” he asked, abruptly turning around.
“Yup! Ready,” Indi answered.
And together they walked toward the lobby of the hotel, both thinking about something else and neither of them seeing the figure who stood and, some way behind, followed them out.
The bank clerk shook his head. He had been shaking it for the past five minutes despite Oliver’s protestations. The draft had to be processed, like anything else, at the bank in Delhi, forms had to be filled out, signatures obtained, it had to be cleared at the bank here in Baijur, more forms filled out and then, only then, could it be cashed. No, he didn’t know when it would be ready for collection, it might be tomorrow, it might be three days. These things took time, even urgent things took time, in India.
Oliver smacked his fist down on the counter in frustration and the bank clerk looked blankly at him. He shook his head and shrugged. He was about to utter the same excuses when Oliver interrupted him. “Don’t bother!” he snapped. “I understand the problem!” He walked over to Indi who was sitting miserably on the complimentary seat and looking on in silent agony.
“No money,” he said. “Sorry.”
She jumped up angrily. Yanking open the door of the bank, she stormed out into the street, close to tears and stood, her hands over her face, counting to a hundred.
“Hey!” Oliver came out after her. He touched her shoulder from behind. “Hey, it’s not that bad!”
“Not that bad!” Indi swung around. “How can you say that? She threw her hands up in the air. “I’ve got no money, I’m stuck here until my banker’s draft manages to get through the bloody Indian bureaucracy and I’ve got nowhere to stay!” A sob caught in the back of her throat. “And you say it’s not that bad!”
“Whoa! Hang on a minute.” Oliver’s patience was also frayed. He’d spent two fruitless hours in the bank, he had undoubtedly missed his flight, he now had a responsibility thrust on him that he didn’t need and, to cap it all, here she was shouting at him in the middle of the street! As if any of it was his fault! He took a deep breath and said, “Look, I’m sorry and all that but it’s really not that bad…”
“How would you know?” Indi cried. “What do you know about it anyway?”
“Nothing!” Oliver suddenly shouted back. “But I am here to help and the least you can do is be a little more grateful!”
“Grateful? Ha! I didn’t ask you to come, did I?” Indi had lost all sense of perspective. The stress and frustration of the day suddenly erupted and poured out, like burning molten lava. “Let’s get one thing straight,” she shouted. “You came here off your own bat. I didn’t ask you, OK?”
“No! But where the hell would you be if I hadn’t, eh?” Oliver yelled back. He had had enough as well. He’d made one hell of a mistake coming here, him and his bloody impulsive decisions. He wished he’d never set eyes on her, arrogant little cow! “If it hadn’t been for your grandfather then I would never have bothered.” He glared at her. “And, frankly, I wish I hadn’t!”
Indi’s face was burning with indignation, her chest heaved but she’d calmed down a bit. “No,” she snapped, “I wish you hadn’t either!”
“Good! We’re agreed then.”
“Yes, we’re agreed!”
They each stood their ground for a minute or so, then Oliver said angrily, “I suggest that we go back to the hotel, pick up your bags, then find somewhere for you to stay. Is that all right?”
Indi resented his sarcasm. “Yes,” she said icily, “that’s quite all right.”
“Good!” Oliver growled. He turned down the street. “Come on.”
“Right!” Indi growled back. “I’m coming!” And two paces behind, she followed him down the street until they found an empty motor rickshaw and took it back to the hotel.
They were both in a foul mood as they stood at the reception desk in the Lake Palace and watched the clerk telephone the eighth hotel on his list for a reservation. It was summer; Baijur had had an enormous tourism drive across Europe and was now twenty percent overbooked. There was nothing to be had, either in the top range or the middle range of hotels and Oliver point-blank refused the bottom range; he didn’t want to go back to Delhi with flea bites.
“I am most sorry, sir, but I am not getting any l
uck with a room for you.”
Oliver sighed. This was all he needed, a perfect end to a perfect day! “Nothing?”
“No, sir, there is nothing available.”
He glanced across at Indi who stood with her back to him, staring out at the water in the fading light. “And you have nothing here?”
The clerk looked at his computer sheet again. He ran his pen down it, shaking his head as he did so. “No rooms at all, sir, I am most sorry.”
Oliver leaned in to the desk and glanced at the list. “Is there anything at all? We’ll take anything.”
The clerk went to another list. He looked for several minutes, then suddenly he glanced up. “Ah! I am finding one thing at least, sir!” He smiled. “I have the royal suite that is empty for a few days, sir.”
Oliver swallowed. “The royal suite?” His voice came out a little higher than usual.
“Oh yes, it is very, very good, sir, a very good room. I can highly recommend it. Oh yes!”
Indi turned. “They have a room?” The relief on her face was apparent.
“Yes, the, erm, royal suite,” Oliver answered.
She looked at the clerk. “We’ll take it,” she said.
“But it’s hugely expensive,” Oliver hissed.
“Then I’ll pay for it!” Indi hissed back. “For God’s sake! It’s all there is!”
Oliver looked up at the clerk. “Thank you, we will take it,” he said. “If someone could show us to the room now?”
“Oh yes, sir, yes indeed!” The desk clerk clicked for the boy and beamed at them. They had gone up in his estimation, they were people to be considered now. “Please, the boy will show you up now.”
Oliver and Indi both moved off at the same time and collided, knocking into each other and springing apart immediately. But they didn’t apologize to one another, they simply separated, ignored it and went after the boy in relieved and angry silence,
It was midnight when Oliver woke up. He glanced at the luminous dial on his watch, saw the time and rolled on to his side to get back to sleep again. He pulled the sheet in and glanced across at Indi on the other side of the huge king-size bed, a bolster between them, her side of the bed rumpled and chaotic, the sheets all over the place and one long brown leg kicked out, naked up to the very top of her thigh. He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed, wondering what the hell he was doing here.
“Are you awake, Captain Hicks?”
He opened them again. “Yes.” He had cooled off, he didn’t want to go on with the tense silence. “It’s Oliver,” he said, “not Captain Hicks.”
“Right, Oliver.” Indi rolled over to face him. “What did you mean about my grandfather, Oliver? Earlier? You said if it wasn’t for—”
“I know what I said,” Oliver interrupted. “I’m in the Ninth Cavalry Division, Brigadier Bennet is…” He broke off. “He’s a kind of regimental hero, everyone knows about him, he’s highly respected. And, when you said his name, I kind of…” He stopped again, then he smiled at himself. “This sounds stupid,” he said, “but I kind of wanted to do something to help, to impress him, I guess.”
Indi smiled back. “No, it’s not stupid.” She reached out and touched him on the arm. “Thank you,” she said.
Oliver looked down at her hand. She had long elegant fingers and oval nails, cut short, unvarnished. “That’s all right, Miss Bennet,” he replied. He rolled over, away from her.
“It’s Indi,” she said quietly, “not Miss Bennet”
“Good night then, Indi,” Oliver whispered.
“Good night,” she answered. “Sleep well.”
But Oliver didn’t sleep. He lay in the dark and listened to the sound of Indi’s breathing, light, so quiet he almost couldn’t hear it, and he wondered again and again what he was doing here. Indi Bennet was like no one he had ever met before and she scared the living daylights out of him. She had riled him, infuriated him, aroused him and now charmed him, all in ten hours. She was wonderful, exotic, strong, sensuous, but she was dangerous. And Oliver Hicks didn’t need dangerous, he didn’t need dangerous in any shape or form.
29
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, WHILE OLIVER FINISHED BREAKFAST and Indi showered, the call came through to their suite. He had left a message with the bank, as soon as it opened, that if the banker’s draft cleared they were to call the hotel right away. It was ten-fifteen and he took the message with a mixture of relief and disappointment. The money had arrived, Indi could stay on for as long as she liked and he was no longer needed. He rang the airport and the station. There were no flights but he could get a train out at midday, so he began to pack his small rucksack and check he had all the details on the forms. Indi came out of the bathroom.
“Oliver? What’s happened?” She was wearing a white toweling bathrobe, belted in tight around her small waist, and her hair was wet. Oliver thought she was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen and he flushed, then looked away.
“The bank rang,” he answered, stuffing his sweater into his bag. “The money’s through, and I called the station. There’s a train back to Delhi at midday which I will be on.”
“I see.” Indi rubbed her hair with a towel, then sat on the bed. “How long d’you think it’ll be before my documents come through?”
“Not long, a few days, possibly a week.” Oliver clipped the top of his rucksack down and slung it on the bed. “I might as well head off now,” he said. “Get on with it!”
Indi shrugged; she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to go. She watched him put the files into his briefcase then suddenly said, “If you don’t mind waiting for five minutes, I could come into the city with you and see you off.” She knelt and pulled a shirt out of her bag. “I have to pick my money up anyway.”
“OK.” Oliver didn’t quite know how to react. “I’d, erm, like that. Thanks.”
Indi stood with her clean clothes in her hand. “I won’t be a minute.” She headed back toward the bathroom. “Don’t go away!”
Oliver laughed a little too readily and sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked at his hands, out at the view, then back at his hands again. He wanted to get going, to be off out of Baijur and away from Indi Bennet before he had a chance to think about it. He didn’t want to be any more involved then he already was—Indi was too attractive and far too complicated to hang around with. Minutes later she appeared in the doorway.
“OK, I’m ready!” She had literally pulled a shirt and skirt on, tied her sandals and flicked her fingers through her wet hair. She looked fresh and natural and deadly sexy.
Oliver cleared his throat and stood, heaving his rucksack on to his shoulder. “Right,” he said gruffly, “let’s go!” He walked toward the door and waited while Indi collected up her things and slung them into her own rucksack. She joined him and they walked out of the suite, along the passage and down to reception.
“Excuse me. Miss Bennet? Madam, please, excuse me.
Indi glanced behind her. “Oh, yes?”
The boy stood with a slip of paper in his hand. “Please, for Miss Bennet, a message.” He handed it to her. “Please.”
Indi dug in her bag and gave the boy a tip, then she opened the message, read it and glanced across at Oliver. “I’ve got a call coming through,” she said. “Probably from Gramps.” She shrugged. “I’d better go back and wait for it.”
Oliver nodded. “I should get going,” he said, “I don’t want to miss my train.”
“No.” Indi looked away for a few moments, then said, “What about the money you lent me?”
“You can post it on, or drop it in to the High Commission on your way back through Delhi.”
“OK.”
They stood awkwardly for a few moments.
“Right,” Oliver said.
“Yes, erm, right.” Indi held out her hand and they shook. “Thank you, Captain Hicks.” She smiled. “I’d, erm, better get back for my…” she glanced behind her. “For my call.”
“Yes, yes you had.” Oliver smiled
as well. “Goodbye, Indi. It was nice to meet you.”
“Yes, and it was nice to meet you.”
They continued to stand there, looking at each other.
“Bye then.” Indi took a step back.
“Yes, bye.” Oliver stayed where he was. If it had been any other woman he might have kissed her, but with Indi he didn’t want even to attempt it. God knows where it would end up. He watched her as she held up her hand to wave.
“Bye!” she called again.
“Goodbye!”
Finally, she disappeared down the passage and Oliver turned toward the hotel entrance and the boat waiting on the jetty. He walked out into the brilliant sunlight and nodded to the boat man.
“Five minutes to wait please, sir,” the boatman said. “Other passengers are coming.”
“OK. Fine.” Oliver dropped his rucksack on to the ground and sat down on it. He looked out across the water and saw the city of Baijur up ahead, hazy in the distant heat. Well, at least he’d seen Baijur, he thought, the last state in India to have had a maharajah, and he’d sorted Brigadier Bennet’s granddaughter out. He felt a bit miserable though, despite the success of the trip. Truth was, he didn’t really want to leave.
Indi walked back toward the suite and saw the door ajar. The cleaners must be in, she thought, dropping her rucksack off her shoulder and holding on to it. She swung the door wide open and walked across to the telephone, dropping her bag down on the sofa and calling out. She turned toward the bedroom and that was when the blow hit her. It came from behind.
She went down. Her legs buckled and she fell forward, clutching for the sofa and clasping it with both hands. She gasped for breath and managed to heave herself up, lunging for her bag at the same time as the man did. They struggled with it and, swinging around, half crouched, Indi smacked her head hard into the man’s pelvis. She heard a cry and brought her fist up again into his crotch, punching it as hard as she could. He fell back and she screamed, scrambling to her feet, gripping her bag. She ran, breathless, her legs weak, she sprinted out of the suite, down the passage and through the hotel reception.
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