The Temple of Indra’s Jewel:

by Rachael Stapleton

  I was so busy watching his mouth that I forgot what I’d asked.

  “Liam, oh yes. Liam’s me brother. He, ah, came with me to visit you.” He looked me over from head to toe and smiled. “You don’t know who I am?”

  Shaking my head, I said, “I don’t think so. I would remember you.”

  He murmured to himself and then said, “Apparently not. I saw you fighting with your man. I pulled you from the water after…” He paused in awkward silence. “After you fell, and then I brought you here.”

  Oh, God, what was up with my memory?

  “You’ve been discharged?”

  I looked down and quickly back up. “Yes,” I blurted.

  Charmingly, he held out his hand. “I apologize. I’m usually much more calm and polite. The name’s Cullen O’Kelley, Miss… ? He paused.

  I realized he was waiting to be reminded of my name.

  “Sophia Marcil,” I managed to stammer out before I was suddenly very dizzy and warm. I felt as though all colour was draining from my face, and my eyes began to flutter. The last thing I remember was falling, presumably hitting the floor.

  I opened my eyes when he was lifting me up.

  “I’m sorry. You fainted. Are you all right?”

  “Ugh. Yeah, I’m fine—maybe a little dizzy.”

  “Don’t move too fast. I’ll go get a nurse?”

  “No! No, please. I’m fine.”

  “Is there someone else here with you? Someone besides that man I saw you fightin’ with? He tried to ban me from seein’ ya, you know.” His cheeks grew red. “I almost—well, never mind.”

  “No. I’m sort of stranded here for the moment,” I said, wondering if this was the Princess Grace Hospital.

  “And do you have anywhere to go?”

  “Umm…” I hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. “I need to call my family.”

  “Would you be after goin’ with me then? I guess maybe Liam found his own way back. You can ring whoever you want, and there’s plenty of room and food.”

  I heard raised voices. When I looked around Cullen, I saw Nick arguing with a security guard. Thankfully he couldn’t see me because of Cullen’s big hulking frame.

  “Yes, please. I would really appreciate that. You live here in Monaco?”

  “No, Dublin, but we’re vacationing—my parents and my brother and I. You’re actually in Cannes right now. It was the closest hospital to the island we were docked at.”

  “You brought me here?”

  “Well, yes. That eejit of yours of course followed, takin’ over, so I left.”

  The yelling had escalated. I peeked nervously around again. There was no way I was being locked on some psych ward. Cullen looked back at them and then down at me.

  “So, you were discharged, eh?”

  “Y-yes,” I stuttered. “I just don’t want to go with him.”

  He picked up my suitcase and smirked.

  “Our place is just outside of Antibes. Is that all right, or would you prefer I took you somewhere else?”

  “No, that’s great,” I said, grabbing him by the arm and tugging us toward the door.

  I desperately needed to get the hell away. Something about Mr. O’Kelley made my pulse race a little faster, in a good way.

  As we headed out the door I noticed we were heading toward the back of the parking lot where only a couple of vehicles sat, one of them being a top-of-the-line Ferrari.

  I glanced over at him, fixating on his stubble, an assortment of silvery blond, jet black and red. I hadn’t pegged him as a pretty boy.

  “Here we are,” he said, opening the door of the Land Rover beside the Ferrari.

  Like Cullen, it was down to earth and sleek, but with masculine charm.

  I climbed in, smiled and closed my eyes. When I opened them again we were pulling through a private gate, surrounded by parasol pines and orange trees, facing an elegant, provincial-style villa. A front terrace faced us, and a handsome man smoking a pipe waved down at us.

  “That was quick!” I noted as he turned off the ignition.

  “You drifted off,” he said as he got out and came around to assist me.

  “This is your family’s vacation home? I feel funny about intruding.”

  “You’re not intrudin’. Come on.”

  I followed Cullen inside and across the foyer. My eyes gravitated to the large windows and doors offering rosy, hopeful beams from the radiating sun. Everything curved—the stairs, the doorways and the windows—or was it my vision?

  The large room suddenly felt airless and began to sway eerily, as if the floorboards were collapsing. Not again. I knew that my knees were beginning to give, but I couldn’t steady myself. I reached out for the wall in order to stay on my feet. My throat was desert dry; my heart pounded as I stumbled, but Cullen was quick to scoop me up.

  “Let’s lie you down.” I could feel his muscles flex beneath his soccer jersey as he carried me up the spiral staircase.

  “Ah, God, Cullen… Jesus, Mary and Joseph, what have you—?” A fine-boned woman with beautiful brown eyes and curly auburn hair cut her words short as she came around the corner and saw us.

  She stared for a moment, obviously trying to absorb the situation.

  “Hello there!” she said, directing her gaze at me and then back at Cullen. “I rang ya on your mobile but you didn’t answer. Is everything all right?”

  “Everything’s grand, Mum. Remember Sophia from the Lérins Islands? I’ll be right back.”

  “I’m Lucille. It’s lovely to meet you, again,” Mrs. O’Kelley said, ignoring her son and following at a close pace, all bunny teeth and big, brown, worried eyes.

  “You too,” I stammered, although truthfully I didn’t remember meeting her at all.

  “And it’s nice to see I raised such a gallant fella, but do ya mind tellin’ me what’s going on? Please tell me ya didn’t steal her from the hospital, son?”

  Cullen turned and smiled at his mother trying to put her at ease. “She’s fine—everythin’s fine.”

  “All right. All right. Lay her down in the guestroom—she looks like she could use a rest—and then come and fill me in. I’m only your mother, ya know.”

  We came to a small, cozy room, and he set me on the bed, where floral patterns ran rampant and the pillows were large and fluffy, tempting me to drift off.

  “Do you think I could borrow a phone? I want to call my grandmother.”

  “To be sure. Rest here for a minute and I’ll go grab it.”

  I woke to a voice wafting down the hall. I paused and listened; it sounded like Cullen speaking. Feeling curious as a cat, I climbed out of bed and tiptoed out the door as stealthily as I could manage. Cullen’s voice jumped out at me.

  “I tell ya, Liam, those curves give me vertigo.”

  “Yeah, she’s a looker and daft in the head… thinks she’s from the nineteenth century or some shite.”

  “Don’t be rude, ye arse. She’s been through enough. I don’t know what happened to her, but I swear she’s the girl I told ya ’bout—the one in the dream.”

  “Yer crazy talkin’—ya just want her to be.”

  “No. I couldn’t forget a girl like that. Geez, man, her eyes are like blue marbles. And that mouth, and those freckles… No, I’m sure. Crazy as it sounds, it’s her. And the kicker is that lately the dreams are more frequent, and they’re vivid as all hell.”

  I peeked my head in. I didn’t want to get caught eavesdropping but I couldn’t resist. Cullen, staring out the window, looked like he was lost in his thoughts. He sat across from a dark-haired man in an oversized chair. They faced away from me, thank goodness. It must be his brother, the one he’d been looking for when he found me, I thought. They looked nothing alike. Liam’s head turned as if he sensed my presence, and I jerked back out of sight.


  “So, speak up, boy. What else was in the dreams? It’s been years since you mentioned them.”

  “Well, there’s a dark castle all shrouded in mist. Eerie like. The next thing I know I’m in this room full of gaudy panels, and there’s this hidden case of gems. She’s there, Sophia, but her hair—actually it’s different. In the dream it’s light and curly as a pig’s tail.”

  I bit my lower lip and leaned my head tight against the wall. No way. He can’t have known of Sapphira.

  “And there’s this man with eyes as angry as all hell. He wears an oversized silver ring on his finger with a viper symbol. I don’t know why but I always notice the ring. I wanna punch him straight in the gob. There’s somethin’ inside me, somethin’ that needs to protect her. Like I’m the only thing standin’ between her and death.”

  “Bloody hell. Did ye tell her about the death thing?”

  “No. She seemed scared enough.”

  “Good. ’Cause ya sound like a bleedin’ idiot. I think ya best keep yer gob shut or she’ll be runnin’ fer the hills.”

  I paused, thinking about what he’d said: a viper ring. A snake. That was what Sapphira had written. Why hadn’t I looked for a symbol? He was probably right in front of me the whole time. I scooted back up the hall and leapt onto the bed when I heard movement. I was lying still when I heard someone enter the room. Cullen, I presumed. A deep breath escaped from his lungs as he pulled the blanket up over me.

  I opened my eyes and feigned a yawn. His cool, laid-back smile immediately put me at ease.

  “I’m glad to see yer up. Here, Ma made you a cup of tea with honey in it to warm ye.”

  “I fell asleep again.”

  “That you did, so I just let ya be.”

  “Thank you,” I said, reaching for the cup. “For everything.”

  I sat up and pressed down the folds of my skirt. I wanted to ask him about his dream, but how could I without mentioning that I’d been listening? The tea hadn’t even cooled when Cullen’s mother knocked and entered, carrying a tray of delicious-smelling food.

  “Well, hallo there. I brought the two of you some pastries and scones; thought maybe you could both be using a little sustenance. I also brought your suitcase up in case you wanna be a touch more comfortable.”

  “Thank you.”

  She left the room, and Cullen held the plate out toward me.

  “These look delicious.”

  “Oh, Cullen.” She popped back inside. “Da and I are after leaving now fer the boat. Are you coming?”

  “Oh, I don’t want to keep you. I’ll just be on my way.” I attempted to stand, but my head spun, and I teetered.

  “You’re not going anywhere. Can you manage without me, Ma?” Cullen said. He grabbed my arm and helped me sit back down.

  “Oh, yeah. Your cousins—you know they’ll do a fine job, to be sure. You can find your own way to dinner, then?”

  “I can.”

  And with that she closed the door.

  “Your mother’s very lovely.” I paused, playing with my pastry.

  “Yes, and very pushy.” He laughed. “So you better eat whilst you’re talkin’.”

  I took a deep breath and began. “So—everyone seems to agree I’m crazy.”

  He furrowed his brow. “Nah.”

  I paused, taking a bite. “The truth is I really don’t know what to believe anymore.” I swallowed hard, my doubts circling like vultures overhead. “It’s okay if you want me to leave,” I said, feeling incredibly vulnerable.

  “Now that’s the craziest thing you’ve said all day. How ’bout I’ll help you ring your family?”

  The tears spilled down my cheeks as he reached toward me and gently handed me the phone.

  The call with Gigi went well. I hung up the phone, drying the tears from my eyes, just as Cullen came back in the room.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, she was relieved to hear from me, but she had a lot of questions. Apparently Nick phoned her, screaming I’d run off. On top of that, my passport’s missing. It’s not in my luggage. Nick must have it, so I can’t book a flight home yet. I guess I’ll need to arrange a hotel ’til I can track him down.”

  “Ye’re more than welcome to stay with us.”

  “That’s very thoughtful, but I certainly couldn’t impose any further.”

  “Honestly, we’d love to have ye. Consider it done. I’ll take you back to the hospital if you want. You can see if they’ll help you track down what’s-his-name. Of course that’s on one condition.”

  “What?” I asked, shifting.

  I heard him take a breath, like he was gearing up. After a moment he let it out and moved restlessly on the chair. “That you’ll allow me to hit him if he touches you again.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The sun shone as we headed east on Boulevard du Littoral. Cullen rolled the windows down; the ocean breeze blew through my hair. Cannes Hospital lay behind us. The excitement of getting my passport back left me feeling euphoric as we pulled into the O’Kelleys’ drive.

  Nick’s absence at the hospital meant I didn’t have to deal with Cullen confronting him, although part of me had relished the thought. My passport had been there. I was looking forward to booking my flight home. Or am I? I asked myself as I looked over at Cullen humming to the radio. I was growing fond of the man, even if he couldn’t carry a tune. Perhaps that’s why I’d agreed to come back to his family’s vacation home.

  “I think I’m going to fire up the barbeque and maybe go for a swim,” Cullen said, getting out of his truck. “Would you care to join me?”

  “That sounds amazing, but I need to call the airline first.”

  “How do you like your steak?”

  “Red.”

  “A woman after my own heart.” He laughed, opening the door and stepping back so I could go in first. “Why don’t you go change? We can look up flights on my iPad when you get back. The towels are in the closet.”

  As I rummaged through my luggage, I saw my cell next to my bikini. I’m such an idiot—I could have already looked up flights. I picked it up and turned it on: Low battery. Good thing I brought the charger. Three days in the nineteenth century and I’d forgotten I owned a cell.

  I changed, pulled my hair into a ponytail and tightened the towel around my waist. I descended the stairs and stepped out onto the patio stones surrounding the pool.

  Cullen stood, dripping wet, hair tousled, over the barbeque as it smoked, wafting the delicious aroma of grilled meat. Spatula in one hand and beer in the other, he smiled and motioned to the pool. “Sorry. I didn’t wait for you, but please feel free to take a dip.”

  “Thanks, but I think I’ll just enjoy the last of the sun from here.” I took a seat in the blue-and-white striped lounger.

  “I took the liberty of pullin’ up all of the available flights leaving over the next couple of days.”

  “Great. Thank you.”

  “Can I get you a beer or a glass of wine while you check that out?”

  “Sure. Wine would be great,” I said, picking up his iPad.

  Cullen returned with an empty glass, a bottle of red, two plates and a large bowl of salad.

  “Is this okay? There was no white chilled.”

  “Wow, you’ve been busy! Yes, that’s great. I prefer red.”

  “So tell me about the likes of you,” he said, flipping the steaks.

  “You know…” I started to speak just as a man stepped out the door in a very teeny-weeny bathing suit bottom.

  “Old man, what the hell are you wearing?”

  “Cullen. Bollix. You scared the daylights outta me. Your mother’s idea. She wants me to wear it to get some colour up here,” he said flustered, pointing to his upper thighs.

  “This is my father, John O’Kelley. Da, this is Sophia, the girl
from Sainte Marguerite Island.”

  It was the man I’d seen smoking on the front balcony when we’d first arrived. He was impressively built, especially for an older guy.

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. O’Kelley. Cullen was just talking about you.”

  “’Tis good to see you lookin’ so well. This fella here has done nothin’ but worry about ya, and that’s a fact.”

  “Thank you. I’m just sorry to have caused so much trouble.”

  “Well, now, nothin’ to be done about that. So what was my boy here sayin’? Bad mouthin’ me, I bet.”

  “Don’t worry, Da. I was just tellin’ her how you invested brilliantly with Grandda’s help and owned two major cable networks by the ripe old age of forty.”

  “Yep, and he’s long since turned his good fortune into big business. I tell the truth,” a woman’s voice shouted from the kitchen.

  I glanced at John’s itsy-bitsy swim trunks and smiled. I had to agree—it was clear that John was very big business.

  Lucille, snickering, walked out behind him in a beautiful navy sundress and handed him a towel, which he quickly wrapped around his waist. Her red hair was swept up in a neat French twist that showed off her long neck and single bare shoulder to perfection. I wondered how old she was. She seemed young to have two full-grown men as sons.

  “It’s dinnertime, ya old fool. There’s no sun.” She kissed his shoulder and then directed her gaze at me. “Sorry for invadin’ yer privacy, dear.”

  “Yes, and I apologize I’m not in better shape,” John added. “I’m just not in the habit of finding other women in the house.”

  “And let’s be keepin’ it that way.”

  I laughed at the two of them. “I appreciate the hospitality. Please don’t mind me.”

  “Why don’t the two of you join us for a drink?” Cullen said. “We’ve already cracked your favourite wine.”

  “Perfect,” Lucille said, darting into the house. The sound of cabinet doors and rattling glassware soon followed.

  I moved out of the lounger and took a seat at the table, with my back to the house, allowing me to admire the beautiful shrubs and flowers.

  She returned, smiling, and set her glass on the table. She filled it and then topped up my glass before she dropped into a seat on the bench next to her husband.