“What?” she finally whispered, unable to take the silence any longer.
He reached out.
Bea stiffened, sucking in a breath. His calloused hand cupped the side of her face. He stared at her mouth and slowly brushed his thumb across her lips. She couldn’t seem to breathe. Couldn’t seem to think logically. All she knew was that Colin was going to kiss her and she wanted him to.
He leaned toward her and she allowed her lashes to drift down. His warm breath brushed across her lips right before his mouth pressed to hers. Bea sank into his touch. His lips were warm, firm, perfect. He tilted his face, his hand cupping the back of her head and drawing her closer.
“You taste so sweet,” he whispered.
His words sent her pulse racing. Bea’s hands slid around his shoulders and she molded her chest to his. That place between her thighs ached as heat flooded her body. Wearing only the thin shirt, and trousers made for men, she felt exposed to the elements, exposed to him. God help her, she wanted him to touch her again.
Softly, his lips pressed to hers, his teeth nipping the sensitive skin over and over as she’d done with the fruit. Finally, Bea could take no more. Boldly she slipped her tongue into his mouth. He seemed surprised by her move. But just as quickly, Colin took control. With a low growl, his tongue met hers thrust for thrust.
Bea knew she was getting in deep, murky waters but she couldn’t seem to care. Colin’s hand slipped from her hair to her collar. Before she could even realize his intentions, he’d opened three of her buttons. Part of her mind screamed for him to stop. She silenced that part, pushed it to the farthest recesses of her mind.
Her shirt gaped enough for him to slip his warm hand inside. His palm cupped her left breast. Bea’s nipples instantly hardened, growing heavy with his touch. She wanted him, all of him, so much so that she’d sell her very soul. He tore his mouth from hers and lowered his head, pressing his lips to her neck. Lower. His mouth rested in the valley between her breasts.
Bea sighed, tilting her head back. Her hair tumbled in waves down her back. Somehow he’d managed to untie the ribbon holding the locks in place. Overhead, stars twinkled in the darkening sky, diamonds on dark velvet. The night was magical, Colin was magical. The things he was doing to her, the way she felt, were magical.
“Lovely,” she thought she heard him whisper. She wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter if he’d said the word or not, for she felt lovely under his attention. The way he looked at her, the way he touched her, she’d never felt so attractive, never felt so heady with power.
Suddenly, Colin stiffened and pulled away. She felt his absence like the winter in Scotland, cold and piercing.
“What—”
He pressed his finger to her lips. “Shhh.”
His gaze narrowed, his breathing coming out in short, sharp pants.
The fine hairs on Bea’s neck stood on end. “Colin?” she whispered.
He shook his head, his gaze scanning the scrub beyond the light of their fire. She froze, her heart slamming against her chest as she waited for an explanation. Then she heard it. The snap of a branch.
Bea sucked in a breath, her skin crawling. Colin surged to his feet while Bea fumbled with the buttons on her shirt.
“Show yourself,” Colin demanded, his voice hard and sure, so sure that for one blessed moment Bea thought they had nothing to worry about. Perhaps Raj had found them?
“Damn,” Colin whispered just loud enough for her to hear.
Fear spurred her into action. Bea jumped to her feet and peeked around his shoulder.
Five men stood before them, wearing only trousers, their thin, tanned chests bare. But the state of their undress didn’t attract Bea’s attention. No, the rifles did.
Chapter 19
The moon hung low in the sky, its round, merry face mocking her plight. Bea leaned back against Colin, giving in to her exhaustion. For at least two hours they’d ridden. She hadn’t protested when Colin had placed her on the horse, then settled behind her. And she’d known better than to open her mouth and ask any of the many questions swirling through her head. There were some instances when keeping your mouth shut was the best possible response. This was one of those instances.
Immediately, the men had surrounded them, two riding on mounts in front, the other three walking behind. They were a silent group, giving no indication of where they were going or why. Did they work with Demyan, or someone else? How she wished she could ask Colin something!
As if sensing her thoughts, Colin tightened his grip around her waist. She was thankful for his presence, truly she was. Thankful she could feel the strong beat of his heart against her back, for it meant he still lived. As frantic as she was for answers, she didn’t exactly want their trek to end. She knew the end would only bring more fighting … perhaps death. He might be a dunce at times, but there was no doubt Colin was brave and strong. He’d try to free them. He’d try. But he couldn’t possibly win against so many men.
Perhaps that was how it was supposed to be. After all, death had been nipping at their heels for days now. Perhaps they were fighting a losing battle. She closed her eyes as tears stung the backs of her lids. She didn’t want to die, and for now, she’d be a coward about the possibility. But when it happened, she’d be strong. She’d make Leo and Ella proud. She’d make Colin proud.
She might have slept. She wasn’t sure. But suddenly, Colin shifted and she was torn from the dredges of the semi-unconscious.
“Bea.” His voice was soft and warm against her ear. Her lashes fluttered up. The side of his face was pressed to hers, his whiskers rough, his skin warm. For a moment, with Colin so close, Bea thought she was in the middle of an erotic dream.
“We’ve arrived.”
Confused, she focused ahead. The silent men trudging along beside them brought the situation rushing back. Gone were the fields. Instead, a small village of dark huts spread out before them.
“Where are we?” she whispered.
Colin merely shook his head, but his hard gaze was taking in every detail. Exhaustion hadn’t dulled his protective instincts. While she’d been drifting to sleep, he’d been keeping watch.
They moved into a single line as the streets narrowed between houses of white plaster. Although a few homes had lights that twinkled, the village was quiet and still. Not a soul stirred. Their horses trotted slowly, the thump of their hooves against the dirt echoing down the narrow lanes. There was something rather eerie about the place, something she couldn’t put her finger on. It was as if the occupants were waiting … for them?
Bea shivered at the thought.
“Are you cold?” Colin asked, misinterpreting her reaction.
His hands settled at her waist, the warmth of his touch seeping through the fine linen of her shirt.
She gave him a soft, sad smile. As if being cold mattered when they’d probably die soon. She shook her head, but he still looked worried. Bea swallowed hard and looked away. She’d been so wrong about Colin. How she’d wanted to despise him when they’d first met, wanted to despise the sinful feelings he stirred within. Another man focused on seeking adventure. Hadn’t she enough men like that in her life? But as day after day swept by, she found she couldn’t hate Colin after all. And now … well, now they were most likely walking to their demise.
Their abductors turned down a narrow alley, the ground underfoot changing from dirt to stone of some sort, and the clomp of horses’ hooves grew louder. Bea tilted her head slightly, narrowing her gaze. Was there something ahead? Between the rows of homes? The dark shape emerged, forming a large building. Bea latched on to Colin’s hands, her heart hammering against her ribs. This was it, the end.
“Do you have a plan?” she whispered.
“Not a one,” Colin replied.
She frowned, unsure if she wanted to laugh or cry. Surely, maybe, hopefully they could think of something before … before it was too late. Oh, what did it matter? They were outnumbered.
She turned, frantic to
make a connection with the man one last time. “Colin, I …”
He raised a golden brow. “Yes?”
“I … I do like you.”
He blinked, obviously stunned by her emotional outburst.
She tilted her chin high as heat raced up her neck and into her cheeks. “I do. Yes, you’re rather obnoxious and annoying at times.” She twisted her hands together. “And a day doesn’t go by when I don’t imagine, with glee, punching you in the face …”
His other brow lifted.
“Oh, dash it. What I’m saying is … it’s just that … if we’re going to die, I thought I’d let you know that … well”—she looked down—”you’re not entirely terrible.”
They paused outside an iron gate. Someone shouted from the darkness and metal screeched against metal as the gates were thrown inward. Still, Colin said nothing and it was too blasted dark to read his eyes.
He cleared his throat and pulled Bea close, forcing her to turn forward, her back pressed to his chest. That was it? He wouldn’t respond? No words or acknowledgment?
“Well?” she hissed under her breath as they started through the gates and into a courtyard.
“Well, what?” His breath was a warm caress across the side of her face, and unwillingly her body responded. She ignored the shivers, focusing instead on her annoyance.
“Well, what?” That was all he had to say? She’d just told him she liked him and that was his response? Her fingers tightened on his wrists. “Well,” she drawled out through gritted teeth. “Have you nothing to say in return?”
“Not particularly.”
“Not,” Bea sputtered, barely able to get the words out, “particularly?” She jerked her head to the side, attempting to make eye contact. He looked down at her, his gaze twinkling. Bea’s mouth fell open. He was making jest of her admittance and when they were going to die, no less? The cad! She’d been right all along. She faced forward again, anger pushing aside her fear.
“Down,” one of the men next to them said, pointing his rifle at Bea’s chest.
She sucked in a breath and leaned back. Colin didn’t hesitate as he slid off the mount. Looking into her eyes, she could read the message clear. Stay quiet, keep close by. He rested his hands on her waist and set her upon the ground. Her legs gave out. She didn’t seem to have any muscles left and slumped toward the ground. Colin was there, slipping his arm around her waist and holding her close.
“I’m not used to riding,” she whispered, taking a moment to relearn the use of her limbs.
“Follow.” The guide jerked his head toward the building.
A lantern glowed on either side of a massive wooden door. Colin escorted Bea up the shallow marble steps to the entrance. Her legs tingled with each movement, slowly coming back to life, but fear was making her weak.
She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been this, a home of massive riches. Surely Demyan didn’t live here. The place was too beautiful, as stunning as any English manor but with the rich detail only India could provide. Made out of white stone, the front façade was covered with windows that lined the top and bottom. Each window was covered with intricately carved shutters of dark wood.
As they reached the top step, the double wooden doors swung wide. A man wearing a white shirt and trousers stood just inside, a turban twisted atop his head. He bowed low. A show of respect and welcome. The bow threw Bea off balance, played with her emotions. She’d been expecting a fight to the death, not this decent reception.
“Colin, I don’t understand,” Bea whispered.
His grip tightened on her arm. “Shhh, not now.”
Somewhat annoyed, she turned to face him. “Are we in danger or not?”
He looked down at her, the exasperation evident in his eyes. “I’m not sure.”
“I’d like to know,” she shot back as they made their way up the shallow steps.
“Why is that, princess?” he asked, looking truly curious.
“Well, so I can prepare and know how to behave.”
They paused in the foyer, the area cool, the marble under their feet hard. Great wooden arches rose above, while heavy metal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, throwing shadows and light across the walls. The doors shut with a thud that echoed down the long corridor. Bea’s heart leapt in her throat, but she didn’t dare turn, too afraid to move. The beauty of the place belied their dreary situation.
Colin’s hand rested on her lower back. “Really? You have different protocols for different situations?”
“Of course,” she answered, her fear momentarily forgotten.
“And do you need to change your outfit, too, that is, if you’re marching toward your death?” He chuckled, a deep, low chuckle that warmed her insides as much as it annoyed her. “You amaze me, Bea, truly.” It wasn’t exactly the compliment she’d been wanting earlier when she’d admitted she liked him.
“Am I to be worried or not, ‘tis a simple question, Colin.”
He sighed, pausing when the man leading them stopped. A large open doorway loomed before them, and Bea realized that whoever it was who’d brought them here would soon be revealed. Yet she found more interest in what Colin’s response would be than their kidnapper’s identity.
“Well?” Bea demanded in a harsh whisper, eager to hear his answer and for a brief moment focus on something other than whether they were strolling toward their demise.
“I find worrying to be a worthless emotion, don’t you?”
Bea’s lips parted to respond, but she wasn’t quite sure what to say. It wasn’t the first time Colin had rendered her speechless. She could only hope it wouldn’t be the last time.
The man in the white turban bowed to someone in the room, then stepped aside. Just through the doorway, Bea noted high ceilings and more marble flooring. With his hand on her lower back, Colin nudged Bea inside. The lighting was dim and it took a few moments for Bea’s eyes to adjust. A sweet, earthy scent lingered in the air, something almost overwhelming, something that made her dizzy and unable to focus.
It wasn’t until they’d paused in the middle of the room that Bea noticed the others. Settled on a mound of brilliant blue pillows, an Indian man reclined near the far wall, his young, handsome face passive and at ease. At his side, a woman lay with her arms wrapped around his neck, her body pressed indecently to his. They were so still that, for a moment, she thought perhaps they were one of the statues scattered about the room.
Then the man shifted ever so slightly. His long legs were clad in white trousers, but his dark chest was bare. Between slim fingers he idly held a sort of long pipe that let drift a thin trail of smoke. Stunned and confused, Bea found herself staring wide-eyed at the small group. They were beautiful, in an exotic and foreign way. The woman with her curvy body and shiny black hair, her face half-covered with a wisp of brilliant pink material that matched the color of her trousers and blouse.
“Welcome.” The man gave them an unhurried smile, revealing brilliant white teeth.
“Why are we here?” Colin demanded immediately.
Like a panther sunning himself, the man lazily looked Colin up and down, then slid his gaze to Bea. His attention felt odd, warm, yet somewhat uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure if she should feel flattered or offended by his perusal. Colin shifted, stepping in front with a warrior stance that blocked the man’s view. Was he jealous? The thought thrilled her more than she wished.
“Come, my friends. Sit. I am Shiva Krishna.”
Two servants swept forward, setting cushions near the man and his woman. Colin didn’t move. “Why are we here?”
Insatiably curious, Bea rested her hands on Colin’s broad back and stood on tiptoe, peeking over his right shoulder.
Shiva Krishna chuckled, a light airy sound. “You white men, so difficult.” He handed his pipe to the woman.
Then slowly, he stood. He reminded Bea of a birch tree, elegant and lean. With short, unhurried strides, Shiva walked toward them. He paused only feet from Col
in and smiled again as if they were long-lost friends. He was shorter than Colin and half his bulk, yet the man showed no fear under Colin’s intense scrutiny. But then, why should he be afraid? They were in his home, surrounded by his guards.
“I know of you, my friend.”
The room grew silent, and for a moment Bea thought she’d misunderstood Shiva’s words. To an outsider, Colin seem impassive to the man’s statement. Bea knew otherwise. That pulse in the side of his neck jumped to life and his back muscles grew tense under her palms. Her frantic gaze jumped from Colin to Shiva. Colin’s anxiety was hers. What, exactly, did the man know?
Their host held his arms wide. “You are the miracle they speak of.”
Bea’s heart skipped a beat and suddenly she understood. They knew. Already they knew what Colin was capable of. Did the entire country know? According to Ella, he’d been in India only a few months. Colin remained mute, not uttering a single word of protest or affirmation.
The man started around them, his hands on his hips. “They say you saved a child on her deathbed. You made a crippled woman walk again. You’ve snatched hundreds from the grasp of death.”
Bea slid Colin a glance. He merely remained frozen in place. Was it true? Had he really saved that many? Once again Colin said nothing, neither confirming nor refuting the statement. But then, she knew Colin, or at least she felt she did, and Colin would never discuss the particulars.
Shiva paused beside them, this time his gaze pinned to Bea as if to read her response. That same sweet scent that hovered in the room seemed to follow him, confusing her already troubled mind. “They say you can even heal animals.”
He said the words to Colin, yet continued to watch her. Bea’s lips parted on a gasp of surprise. Even if Colin hadn’t showed his shock, she couldn’t seem to contain hers. How did Shiva know about King Henry so soon? She looked away, feigning interest in the dark veins in the marble floor. Who had told him? Stephan or Demyan?