by Collen Houck
I felt guilty being here with him out there. I also missed him and felt lonely. I liked having him around.
Sighing deeply, I pulled my hair out of my braid so I could sleep more comfortably, wiggled down to rest
my head on the pillow, and fell into a light sleep.
Sometime around midnight, a soft knock on my door woke me. I was hesitant to open it. It was late, and there was no one I was expecting. I walked to the door, put my hand quietly against it, and listened.
There was a muffled tap again, and I heard a familiar voice whisper faintly, “Kelsey, it’s me.”
I unlocked the door and peeked out. Ren was standing there dressed in his white clothes, barefoot, with a triumphant grin on his face. I pulled him inside and hissed out thickly, “What are you doing here? It’s dangerous coming into town! You could have been seen, and they’d send hunters out after you!”
He shrugged his shoulders and grinned. “I missed you.”
My mouth quirked up in a half smile. “I missed you too.”
He leaned a shoulder nonchalantly against the doorframe. “Does that mean you’ll let me stay here? I’ll sleep on the floor and leave before daylight. No one will see me. I promise.”
I let out a deep breath. “Okay, but promise you’ll leave early. I don’t like you risking yourself like this.”
“I promise.” He sat down on the bed, took my hand, and pulled me down to sit beside him. “I don’t like sleeping in the dark jungle by myself.”
“I wouldn’t either.”
He looked down at our entwined hands. “When I’m withyou , I feel like a man again. When I’m out there all alone, I feel like…a beast, an animal.” His eyes darted up to mine.
I squeezed his hand. “I understand. It’s fine.Really .”
He grinned. “You were hard to track, you know. Lucky for me you two decided to walk to dinner, so I could follow your scent right to your door.”
Something on the nightstand caught his attention. Leaning around me, he reached over and picked up the
picture of the tiger. He stared at it for a moment while a bright crimson flush colored my cheeks but he was focused on the picture and didn’t notice.
He traced the tiger’s face with his finger, then whispered gently, “Someday, I’ll give you a portrait of the
real me.”
Setting the picture down carefully, he took both of my hands in his, turned to me with an intense expression, and said, “I don’t want you to see only a tiger when you look at me. I want you to see me.
The man.” Reaching out, he tucked an errant wisp of my hair behind my ear. “I’ve worn the tiger’s face for far too many years. He’s stolen my humanity.”
I nodded while he squeezed my hands and whispered quietly, “Kells, I don’t want to behim anymore. I want to beme . Iwant to have a life.”
“I know,” I said softly. I reached up to stroke his cheek. “Ren, I…”
I froze in place as he pulled my hand slowly down to his lips and kissed my palm. My hand tingled. His blue eyes searched my face desperately, wanting, needing something from me.
I wanted to say something to reassure him. I wanted to offer him comfort. I just couldn’t frame the words. His supplication stirred me. I felt a deep bond with him, a strong connection. I wanted to help him, I wanted to be his friend, and I wanted… maybe something more. I tried to identify and categorize my reactions to him. What I felt for him seemed too complicated to define, but it soon became obvious to
me that the strongest emotion I felt, the one that was stirring my heart now, was… love.
I’d built a dam around my heart after my family died. I hadn’t really let myself love anyone because I was afraid they’d be taken from me again. I purposefully avoided close ties. I liked people and had many friendly relationships, but I didn’t risk loving. Not like this.
His vulnerability allowed me to let my guard down, and gently and methodically, he was tearing apart my
well-constructed dam. Waves of tender feelings were lapping over the top and slipping through the cracks. The feelings flooded through and spilled into me. It was frightening—opening myself up to feel love for someone again. My heart pounded hard, thudding audibly in my chest. I was sure he could hear it.
His expression changed as he watched my face. His look of sadness was replaced by one of concern for me.What was the next step? What should I do? What do I say? How do I share what I’m feeling?
I remembered watching romance movies with my mom, and our favorite saying was “shut up and kiss her already!” We’d both get frustrated when the hero or heroine wouldn’t do what was so obvious to the two of us, and as soon as a tense, romantic moment occurred, we’d both repeat our mantra. I could hear my mom’s humor-filled voice in my mind giving me the same advice: “Shut up and kiss him already, Kells!” So, I got a grip on myself, and before I changed my mind, I leaned over and kissed him.
He froze. He didn’t kiss me back. He didn’t push me away. He just stopped…moving. I pulled back, saw the shock on his face, and instantly regretted my boldness. I stood up and walked away, embarrassed. I wanted to put some distance between us as I frantically tried to rebuild the walls around my heart.
I heard him move. He slid his hand under my elbow and turned me around. I couldn’t look at him. I just stared at his bare feet. He put a finger under my chin and tried to nudge my head up, but I still refused to meet his gaze.
“Kelsey. Look at me.”
Lifting my eyes, they traveled from his feet to a white button in the middle of his shirt.
“Lookat me.”
My eyes continued their journey. They drifted past the golden-bronze skin of his chest, his throat, and then settled on his beautiful face. His cobalt blue eyes searched mine, questioning. He took a step closer.
My breath hitched in my throat. Reaching out a hand, he slid it around my waist slowly. His other hand was still cupping my chin. Still watching my face, he placed his palm lightly on my cheek and traced the arch of my cheekbone with his thumb.
The touch was sweet, hesitant, and careful, the way you might try to touch a frightened doe. His face was full of wonder and awareness. I quivered. He paused just a moment more, then smiled tenderly, dipped his head, and brushed his lips lightly against mine.
He kissed me softly, tentatively, just a mere whisper of a kiss. His other hand slid down to my waist. I timidly touched his arms with my fingertips. He was warm, and his skin was smooth. He gently pulled me
closer and pressed me lightly against his chest. I gripped his arms.
He sighed with pleasure, and the kiss deepened. I melted into him.How was I breathing? I was breathing
him. He claimed all of my attention. All of my senses were locked up in him. His summery sandalwood scent surrounded me. Everywhere he touched me, I felt tingly and alive.
I clutched his arms fervently. His lips never leaving mine, he picked up both of my hands and wrapped them, one by one, around his neck, then he trailed one of his hands down my arm to my waist while the other slid into my hair as he picked me with one arm and crushed me to his chest.
I have no idea how long I was kissing him like this. It felt like a mere second, and it also felt like forever.
My bare feet were dangling several inches from the floor. He was holding all my body weight easily with
one arm. Part of my mind processed this, but most of my mind was on vacation. Sensory overload—that’s what it was.
All the neurons were firing in my brain simultaneously, and it caused my system to go haywire and stop working. I had no idea kissing felt like this. I buried my fingers in his hair and felt a rumble in his chest.
It
was similar to the purring sound he made as a tiger. After that, all coherent thought fled and time stopped.
At some point, he reluctantly let me down. He still supported my weight, which was good because I was ready to fall over. He cupped my cheek and ran a thumb slowly across my bottom lip. He stood
close to me, keeping one arm wrapped around my waist. His other hand moved to my hair, and his fingers began to slowly twist the loose strands.
I had to blink my eyes a few times to clear my vision.
He laughed quietly. “Breathe, Kelsey.”
He had a very self-satisfied, smug grin on his face, which, for some reason, got my ire up.
“You seem very happy with yourself.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Iam .”
I smirked back at him and said, “Well, youdidn’t ask for permission.”
He responded by trailing his fingers up my arm, swirling little circles as he went. “Kelsey?”
I watched his progress and mumbled, distracted, “Yes?”
“Do I…”
“Hmm?” I wiggled slightly.
“have your…”
He leaned closer. His lips tickled my ear, and I felt him smile, “permission…”
Goose bumps broke out on my arms.
“to kiss you?”
I nodded weakly. Standing on my tiptoes, I slipped my arms around his neck showing him that I was definitely giving permission.
He trailed kisses from my ear down my cheek in achingly slow motion, grazing along a path of his choosing. He stopped, hovering just over my lips, and waited.
I knew what he was waiting for. I paused only a brief second before whispering faintly, “Yes.”
Smiling victoriously, he crushed me against his chest and kissed me again. This time, the kiss was bolder
and playful. I ran my hands from his powerful shoulders, up to his neck, and pressed him close to me.
When he pulled away, his face brightened with an enthusiastic smile. He scooped me up and spun me around the room, laughing. When I was thoroughly dizzy, he sobered and touched his forehead to mine.
Shyly, I reached out to touch his face, exploring the angles of his cheeks and lips with my fingertips. He leaned into my touch like the tiger did. I laughed softly and ran my hands up into his hair, brushing it away
from his forehead, loving the silky feel of it.
I felt overwhelmed. I didn’t expect a first kiss to be so…life altering. In a few brief moments, the rule book of my universe had been rewritten. Newton’s Third Law of Motion stated: To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. I think it was safe to say that kissing Ren was about the most powerful act I had ever participated in. I couldn’t help but wonder what the opposite reaction would be.I guess logically it would mean the deeper I allow this relationship to progress…the worse it would be if he left.
The higher you climb, the harder you fall.
He was oblivious to my thoughts, and I tried to push them into the back of my mind and enjoy the moment with him. Setting me down, he briefly kissed me again and pressed soft kisses along my hairline
and neck. Then, he gathered me into a warm embrace and just held me close. Stroking my hair and caressing my neck, he whispered soft words in his native language. After several moments, he sighed, kissed my cheek, and nudged me toward the bed.
“Get some sleep, Kelsey. We both need some.”
After one last caress on my cheek with the back of his fingers, he changed into his tiger form and lay down on the mat beside my bed. I climbed into bed, settled under my blanket, and leaned over to stroke his head.
Tucking my other arm under my cheek, I softly said, “Good night, Ren.”
He rubbed his head against my hand, leaned into it, and purred quietly, and then he put his head on his paws and closed his eyes.
Mae West, a famous American vaudeville actress, once said, “A man’s kiss is his signature.” I grinned to
myself. If that was true, then Ren’s signature was the John Hancock of kisses.
When I woke up, he was gone, and the sun was already high in the sky. I got dressed and knocked on Mr. Kadam’s door.
Mr. Kadam smiled at me. “Kelsey! Did you sleep well?” I didn’t detect any sarcasm and guessed that Ren had chosen not to reveal his night escapade to Mr. Kadam.
“Yes, I slept just fine. A bit too long though. Sorry about that.”
He gestured dismissively. “Not to worry. We will go retrieve Dhiren and drive to Durga’s temple.
There’s no rush.”
He handed me a rice cake wrapped in banana leaf, some fruit, and a bottle of water. He sent me on my way to get ready and pack up a bag with whatever I wanted to bring.
I headed back to my room and set down my breakfast. Slowly gathering a few personal items, I placed them in my small travel bag. I frequently caught myself daydreaming. I looked in the mirror, touched my
arm, my hair, and my lips, remembering Ren’s kisses. I had to constantly shake myself out of it and refocus. What should have taken me ten minutes took me an hour and a half.
The last thing I placed in my bag was the tiger picture. I put my folded blanket on top of it and zipped my bag shut, then went in search of Mr. Kadam. He was waiting for me in the Jeep while looking over maps. He smiled at me and seemed in good cheer, even though I’d made him wait so long.
We picked up Ren, who leapt out of the trees like a playful cub. When he reached the Jeep, I leaned out to pet him, and he reared up on his hind legs to nuzzle my hand and lick my arm through the open window. He hopped in the back seat, and Mr. Kadam got us back on the road. After carefully following the maps, he pulled off on a dirt road that led through the jungle, finally stopping at a stone temple.
CHAPTER 18
Mr. Kadam got out and instructed us to wait in the car while he checked the temple for visitors. Ren nudged his head between the seats and butted my shoulder until I turned around.
I laughed. “You’d better keep your head down. Someone may see you if you’re not more careful.”
He made a noise.
“I know. I missed you too.”
I scratched him behind his ears, and he turned his head to the side so I’d have better access. A small vehicle was parked close by, so I assumed someone was in the temple. Mr. Kadam soon returned to the Jeep to let us know there were indeed visitors, but that they’d be leaving soon.
After about five minutes, a young American couple exited the temple and returned to their automobile.
I watched them drive off, then inquired, “What did you do, Mr. Kadam? How did you get them to leave?”
He grinned at me. “A simple bribe. I offered them some money if they would let my daughter and me have the place to ourselves. I told them that this was her first trip to India, and I wanted it to be special, and since they were getting ready to leave anyway, they were happy to oblige.”
I hopped out and opened the door for Ren, who started brushing up against my legs like a giant house cat waiting to be fed
“Ren! You’re going to knock me over.” I kept my hand on his neck, and he contented himself with that.
“You two go ahead and check out the temple while I keep watch for more visitors.”
We started down a dirt path lined on both sides with smooth terracotta-colored stones. The temple was literally carved out of a rocky hill. The stone of the temple was the same terracotta color mixed with striations of soft sepia, spicy pink, and pale oyster. It was absolutely beautiful. Trees and flowers had been planted around the temple grounds, and various walking paths led off from the main entrance.
We climbed the short stone steps that led to the opening. The entry was open to the air and showcased tall carved pillars that supported the access way. The threshold was just high enough for a person of average height to walk through. On either side of the opening were amazingly detailed carvings of Indian
gods and goddesses.
A notice, written in several languages, warned that we should remove our shoes as we walked through the temple. The floor was dusty, so I took off my socks too, and stuffed them into my tennis shoes. Once inside, the ceiling expanded into a high dome. The entire ceiling was carved with intricate designs depicting images like flowers, elephants, monkeys, the sun, and gods and goddesses at play.
The rock floor was rectangular, and four tall decorative pillars stood at each corner. They provided support for the dome and were connected by ornamental arches. The pillars had carvings of people in various stages of life or occupations in the act of worshipping Durga. A likeness of the goddess was found at the top of each post.
A series of stairs led up from the main floor in three directions—left, right, and straight ahead. I picked the archway on the right and climbed the steps. The area beyond had been damaged. Crumbled, broken rocks were scattered all over the floor. I couldn’t imagine from the state of the space what it might have been used for.
The next area, which was the one across from the entryway, housed a stone altar of sorts. A small broken statue, now unidentifiable, rested on top. Everything was coated with thick sepia powder.
Particles of it twinkled and hung the air like pixie dust. Beams of light descended from cracks in the dome
and spotlighted the floor with narrow rays. I couldn’t hear Ren’s footsteps, but I definitely heard mine echo through the empty temple.
The air outside was stifling, but inside the temple was merely warm and even cool in some places, as if each step introduced me to a different clime, a different place. I glanced at the floor and saw my footprints and Ren’s paw prints. I made a mental note to sweep the floor before we left. We wouldn’t want people to think a tiger was prowling the area.
After searching that area and finding nothing of consequence, we entered the archway on the left, and I gasped in amazement. A hallowed out recess in the rock sheltered a beautiful stone statue of Durga. She wore a towering headpiece and had all eight arms arrayed around her torso like peacock feathers. She clutched all of her various weapons, one in each hand. Curled around her legs was her tiger. His large claws extended from a heavy paw aimed at the throat of an enemy boar. The boar challenged Durga, and she also had a weapon raised in defense. I looked closer and saw that it was the gada, the club, she was using.
“I guess she had a tiger to protect her too, huh, Ren?”
I positioned myself directly in front of the statue, and Ren sat next to me. We looked at her for a minute.