Wild Desire

by Lori Brighton

  Leo stiffened, his face going taut. Slowly, his hard gaze slid to Colin and he could read the warning there.

  “Oh, don’t look at me like you’re going to kill me. Give over, man. Your wife’s with child.”

  Bea sucked in a gasp, obviously shocked by his bluntness.

  Ella paled.

  It took a moment for the words to sink into Leo’s dense brain, a long moment that gave Colin time to regret his outburst. If possible, Leo’s face grew even paler than Ella’s. Shame crept through Colin’s body like the black spider currently making its way across the floorboards. Well hell, maybe he shouldn’t have yelled it out like that. He rubbed the back of his neck. Bea was glaring at him; Ella was glaring at him; Leo, at least, had the good sense to glare at his wife.

  Leo gripped Ella’s shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “You’re … you’re …”

  “With child,” she admitted, giving him an overly bright smile. “Surprise.”

  The man’s nostrils flared slightly. “You never should have come here … to this place full of death and disease.”

  “And you think England isn’t full of death and disease?”

  He sighed and closed his eyes and Colin wondered if Leowas attempting to count to ten before he blew up. He had no doubt Leo would explode.

  “I will not discuss the merits of England versus India and you will not change the subject.”

  Ella’s face fell, her lower lip quivering. Colin rolled his eyes, recognizing a female trying to get her way when he saw one.

  Confirming his suspicions, she threw her arms around her husband’s neck. “I didn’t know until we’d arrived and I couldn’t bear to be without you.”

  Leo breathed in deep, his arms slipping around her waist. “And you didn’t think to tell me?” he whispered into her hair.

  “I knew you’d turn back the moment we arrived and I needed to know Colin was well. We hadn’t heard from him in months.”

  “Great,” Colin muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Put the blame on me.”

  Leo cupped the sides of Ella’s face. “Merda, Ella, don’t you understand how important you are?”

  Colin’s gaze slid to Bea, wondering how the cold Englishwoman was reacting. She stared at the two as if watching a play. Suddenly, he found himself entranced, witnessing the slight race of emotion cross her face as Ella and Leo declared their undying love. He could see it, the shift in her eyes, the melting of her body and soul. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, her lower lip quivering. So, she was a typical romantic and emotional woman after all.

  Bemused by her softness, a smile tugged at his lips.

  “Here. He came for this,” Pickens said, rushing forward and interrupting the play. “I didn’t show him the statue. Man owes me quite a bit and I knew he’d want to purchase the piece.” Pickens smiled and held the polished light green stone high, like a man admiring his first child. “I showed him a drawing only.”

  Colin moved closer. His heart slammed against his chest.

  His fingers curled at his sides as he resisted the urge to grab the statue. So familiar, yet not at all what he’d expected.

  “What is it?” Ella asked, her voice sounding muffled through the roar of blood to his ears.

  Colin reached out, his hands trembling. Without hesitation, Pickens handed over the piece. The jade was cool and smooth. “Four.”

  “That can’t be,” Leo snapped, snatching the statue from Colin. “It’s not right.”

  “Mad, isn’t it?” Pickens said, his skin gleaming with a fine sheen of sweat. “There are supposed to be four separate statues. This throws the entire myth upon its head.”

  “The statue? Our statue?” Ella whispered.

  Colin shook his head, confused. “It can’t be.” His gaze pierced Pickens. “Is it a reproduction of all four? There are supposed to be four. Legend says there are four separate pieces.”

  Pickens shrugged, latching on to the statue and cradling it close. “No one knows for sure.”

  “Or we were wrong all along.” Leo stated what they were all thinking.

  “I don’t understand,” Bea interrupted, her voice meek and confused. “What’s going on?”

  Ella turned toward the woman, apparently taking pity on her. “There is a legend that says there are four separate statues representing each major religion of the world. Statues with supposed power.”

  “Power?” Bea demanded. “And this”—she waved her hand toward the statue Pickens held—”this is what Henry attempted to murder you for? I thought he wanted a necklace?”

  “The necklace shows the way to the statues.”

  “It’s a mistake,” Leo said.

  Pickens shook his head, his dark gaze gleaming with excitement. “The man said he saw the statue and it looked exactly like this.”

  “A man? What man?” Colin demanded.

  Pickens grinned, a greedy grin. He loved the fact that they were completely in the dark and he could provide them with answers. “A religious man, rather well known around the area, named Anish.”

  Colin glanced at Leo, then Ella, looking for someone to clear up the immense mistake that had apparently been made. Their faces looked as confused as he felt.

  Colin rubbed the back of his neck and paced across the floor. “It can’t be. There are supposed to be four. It’s a mistake, or someone is misleading us.”

  “We came here for a statue?” Bea interrupted, her gloved fingers pressing to her temples. “I don’t understand.”

  “Neither do we.” Leo took hold of Ella’s hand. “But it doesn’t matter. We’re leaving.”

  “What?” Ella demanded, pulling back. “No!”

  “Yes,” Leo said, his voice hard. “I’m taking you back to England, where a woman in your condition belongs.”

  She narrowed her eyes, looking annoyed and offended. “A woman in my condition?”

  Leo ignored her hard tone and started for the front of the shop, taking her with him. “We’re leaving.”

  The door burst open with such force, the bell overhead clanged to the ground. Everyone froze. A thin, young boy stumbled inside, his breathing ragged.

  “Raj, what is it?” Pickens demanded.

  The boy spoke rapidly in Hindi. So fast, Colin only understood one word. Without thought, Colin pulled the pistol from his waistband.

  “Oh dear Lord,” Pickens whispered, his face going pale. He set the statue on a shelf, the piece forgotten, and raced to the front door.

  “What’s happened?” Ella asked.

  But Pickens didn’t answer, merely threw the bolt across the door and slumped against the wooden panel. But then he didn’t need to answer. Colin’s jaw clenched tight. He didn’t know much of the language, but he knew enough.

  Colin’s heart slammed against his rib cage. “He said the rioters are attacking.”

  “Jaldi bhaago!” the boy said, looking at them and shooing them with his hands.

  “What’s he saying now?” Bea demanded.

  “Run,” Colin replied.

  Chapter 5

  “Run?” Bea’s voice came out as a squeak. But honestly, someone had to say something. The entire situation was ridiculous. With all the screaming and shouting, Colin’s bizarre, guarded expression, and Pickens’s constant babbling, she didn’t know if she should be frightened or annoyed.

  “Apparently, the British Army deemed it appropriate to use cow and pig grease on the rifles, which, of course, upset the locals,” Leo said, as if that explained everything. “British are slaughtering the Indians. Indians are slaughtering the British. Men, women, children.”

  Pickens raced to the windows and drew the shutters, although Bea realized it would do little to keep out those who wanted entrance.

  “Come. We must hurry.” Leo pulled a pistol from his waistband.

  Fear sliced through Bea, sending her insides aquiver. Dear Lord, they must hurry or they could die. She’d wanted adventure, not death! Colin moved to the windows
and nudged the curtain aside. Leo was talking furiously fast in Hindi to the lad who’d barreled in telling them of the attack. Bea was left to stand in the middle of the shop, not knowing if she should run or hide.

  She attempted to decipher the conversations flowingaround her, but could catch only words here and there. No one seemed to be making any sense. Confused and frantic for answers, she turned to Ella, the only person who’d listen to her … who’d explain. But the moment she caught sight of her friend, the words died on her lips.

  Ella’s hands were pressed to her belly as if that could protect her unborn child. For the first time since they’d met, Bea saw real fear in Ella’s eyes. Sympathy and shame sank heavily in her gut. She was worried about herself, only herself, when Ella had a husband and baby to protect.

  Bea slipped her arm around Ella’s narrow waist, drawing her close. “We’ll be all right.” She had to force the words from her mouth and pretend to believe them for Ella’s sake.

  Ella nodded, lifting her lips into a strained smile. “Thank you, Bea.”

  And even though she wanted to stay calm for Ella, she couldn’t stop the bombardment of questions from racing through her mind. “Ella, I don’t under—”

  Leo latched on to Ella’s hand. “Come. Raj will take us through the back. His grandfather owns a boat and can escort us downriver, clear of the city, at least.”

  Before Bea could agree or disagree, Leo took her hand. Bea stumbled along, wishing, not for the first time, that she’d worn the traditional Indian garb that was lighter and easier to control. Damn her English propriety!

  “We haven’t a moment to spare,” Leo said, confirming her worst fears.

  “You coming?” Colin asked Pickens.

  The storekeeper shook his head, pulling out a pistol from behind the counter. “I can’t leave my shop.”

  “Suit yourself,” Colin muttered.

  Leo released his hold and Colin immediately took his place, settling a firm hand on Bea’s upper arm. Automatically, she stiffened at his touch. Without breaking stride, he managed to lead her toward the back of the shop. She had just enough time to glance over her shoulder and see Pickensshoving his valuables under the counter before she was tossed into a dark alley.

  The sun had set, sending the narrow corridor into dark shadows that sent chills over her skin despite the heat. Without the protection of the store, fear and panic swept through Bea, making her knees buckle. She reached out, the alley so narrow she could easily rest a hand on each rough, stucco wall. The buildings wavered, spinning around her.

  Leo held up his hand for them to stop as he peered around the corner. “Wait.”

  “Surely they won’t attack us over grease?” she managed to whisper.

  Colin shook his head, his annoyed gaze flickering over her. “Darlin’, this has nothing to do with grease and everything to do with the disrespect for the working society. The natives have been abused by the British government long enough. They’ve finally got reason to act.”

  “But … but …”

  The blasted man pointed a finger at her. “But you’re British, therefore you’re the enemy.”

  “But I’m a woman!”

  “And women aren’t capable of disrespect?”

  She knew the answer to that. Of course women were capable. How many times had she and Grandmother been snubbed by society when they’d dared to visit a village? It didn’t matter that they came from a titled background, or they were wealthy and English … Grandfather had excommunicated them to Scotland because of Grandmother’s supposed madness, and everyone knew the reason. Bea had suffered along with Grandmother even when she’d barely been able to realize why.

  “I’m being persecuted for something I have no control over,” she whispered. She’d left Britain for freedom and now she was merely in a different sort of prison. It was madness.

  Colin shook his head. “And you think they haven’t been all this time?”

  She looked away, unable to hold his hard gaze. Why did she have the impression that he was trying to blame her for this situation? Blast it, she was tired of taking the brunt of everyone’s bickering.

  “Enough arguing, let’s go,” Leo demanded.

  Colin latched on to her again, and although she wanted to push him away, she didn’t dare for fear she’d lose sight of the group. They wove their way around crates. From the opening of the alley, shouts could be heard, the people already protesting. Angry snarls in a language she didn’t understand roared over her harsh breathing. Leo slid his arm around Ella’s waist, holding her close. How Bea wished she could find the same sense of comfort, anyone to make her feel not so alone and afraid.

  The lad, Raj, glanced over his shoulder and spoke to Leo. She was too far away to hear his words. Such a young boy. He couldn’t have been more than thirteen years. Yet they were following his directions. Would he lead them to the safety he claimed, or to their demise?

  Leo glanced over his shoulder, his eyes glowing eerily in the moonlight. “Through this lane, go across the street and into the alley beyond. Don’t slow, don’t get caught.”

  Bea felt a manic bubble of laughter well within. He said the words as if they had a choice in the matter. As if they could do anything to prevent being captured.

  Before she could question the rationality of his decision, Leo and Ella darted into the street, the crowds and the darkness swallowing them whole. She was left alone with Colin, the one man she didn’t trust in the least.

  He turned to her, so close she could smell that warm, spicy scent. She closed her eyes briefly and breathed deep, taking comfort in the way his scent warmed her insides. Without a word of encouragement, he jerked the netting back over her face.

  “Go,” he demanded, shoving her hard.

  Instinct propelled her forward, but her foot caught on thehem of her skirt and she stumbled. Bea stiffened, prepared to hit the ground. But Colin was there, his hand latching on to her upper arm. He didn’t break his stride as he pulled her into the street.

  Immediately, protesters surrounded them, men and boys yelling words she didn’t understand. Torchlight hit their faces, masks of angry people under their brilliantly colored turbans. Bea’s lungs seemed to shrivel, her breath coming out in harsh pants. A suffocating fear clawed within. She would have stopped, there, in the middle of the street, frozen in fear. Fortunately, Colin pushed her forward.

  They made it into the alley before anyone truly realized who they were. Hidden in the dark shadows of the stone buildings, Bea was finally able to slow. But Colin continued to tug at her hand, urging her to run. She couldn’t keep going!

  “The river is just ahead. Raj’s grandfather has a boat that can take us down the Yamuna and out of Delhi,” Leo called out, his face indiscernible in the dark shadows, his voice hardly audible over the shouts.

  Bea barely had time to take a deep breath before Colin was dragging her down an alley again. Dust, stirred by their feet, puffed around her, entering her throat and coating her body. The corset she wore dug into her ribs, making it difficult to draw air. She couldn’t seem to take in a breath without heaving. Her lungs were shrinking, the air thin.

  Her legs grew weak and Bea stumbled. “I … I can’t …”

  She’d die, here, in a dirty alley with no one she knew or trusted. Her breath came out in wheezing gasps, her body desperate for air. Tears of self-pity stung her eyes. Ahead, she could see Leo, Ella, and the boy, Raj, disappear around a corner. They’d left her alone with Colin, Colin, for God’s sake!

  Her grasp weakened and Colin’s strong fingers slipped from hers like a wispy dream. He glanced back, his gaze questioning, but his body was fading, the light fading with him. Her lungs no longer burned as unconsciousness promised sweet relief from the turmoil.

  “Bea?”

  A deep hollow voice seemed to echo around her, vibrating her very soul. Bea tried to open her eyes, but couldn’t seem to focus. Her body went limp and she started to slump toward the ground. Just when she thought
she’d hit the hard dirt, she felt a strong arm wrap around her waist and jerk her upright. The familiar scent of spice, sandalwood, and male surrounded her, making her insides tingle. Colin.

  “I … can’t … breathe,” she managed in soft gasps.

  She was barely aware when he shoved her against the rough stone of a wall and her bonnet tipped to the side, pulling at her hair and scalp. Barely aware when his fingers moved down the buttons at the front of her bodice.

  Even over the foggy reality that had become her life, she knew she should be outraged and needed to push his hands away. Yet she couldn’t seem to gather the strength, couldn’t seem to care. The netting on her bonnet tickled her skin, propelled into movement by the harsh intake of her breath.

  The buttons gave way and her bodice parted like the Red Sea.

  A small curl of warm air managed to slip down her throat. Enough air to bring Colin’s face back into focus.

  “Ridiculous,” he snapped, his thick lashes lowered as he focused on the task of untangling the strings of her corset. He had lovely lashes, really, for a man. Lashes any woman would envy. She almost giggled, realizing the absurdity of her thoughts. Truly, the lack of air had made her mad.

  She finally managed to raise her arms, her fingers weakly clasping on to his wrists. “Colin, what are you doing?”

  “Saving your damn life.” With a swoosh of metal against leather, he pulled the knife from the sheath on his thigh. The blade flashed under the moonlight. Bea’s eyes widened, her fingers tightening around his wrists. Suddenly, the situation was no longer amusing.

  “Trust me.” The sharp tip of his blade pressed to her belly.

  Bea sucked in her gut. Colin flipped his hand up and the screech of ripping material momentarily interruptedthe chant of protesters. The binding fell to the ground. Air filled her shrunken lungs, stretching them almost painfully. Bea cried out, slumping forward into Colin’s strong arms.

  He slipped his knife into the sheath and merely held her. For one long moment, neither spoke. He’d saved her life. In a ridiculous and indecent way, but still … The realization left Bea feeling off balance.