Insanity spurred him toward her. Colin latched on to her wrist and spun her around. The moment he touched her, rational thought vanished. Bea’s lips parted as she met his gaze. There was confusion there, shimmering in those golden orbs. Confusion and surprise.
He supposed he should have apologized. He didn’t. Instead, he jerked her forward. Her hands flattened against his chest, her body falling into his. Before she could offer any protest, he crushed his mouth to hers. This was what he wanted, what he needed, what he’d been dreaming about since she’d entered that damn bath.
Colin slid his fingers into her damp locks, the silky strands clinging to his hands. His lips molded to hers and his body practically groaned in sweet relief. Bea sank into him, her warm, soft breasts crushing to his chest. She didn’t fight, didn’t argue, merely tasted him like a woman starved. Her reaction thrilled and delighted him.
He tilted her head, deepening the kiss. As his tongue slipped between her lips, his arousal flared to life, pulsing hard against her lower belly. She didn’t step back like some simpering virgin. No, she groaned and pressed closer to him as if she knew exactly what she was doing. Her obvious desire only heightened his.
Colin moved to her neck, her smooth, slender neck, while his hands parted her robe. She sucked in a breath as his fingers moved to her backside, cupping her round bottom and pulling her up hard against him.
“Colin,” she whispered.
It was all he needed to hear. He slipped his arm under her knees and around her back, cradling her to his chest. Bea stared up into his eyes, a dreamy look to her gaze. Pink stained her cheeks, whether from embarrassment or desire, he wasn’t sure. But she didn’t simper. She didn’t resist. She only stared up at him with those amber eyes like she wanted him. Needed him. And that thought drove him mad with desire.
He paused at the bed, allowing her to slide down his body. She wanted him. And in this moment, with a soft, clean bed and only the two of them, he knew she’d allow him to take her innocence. Could he? Could he ruin her to satisfy his own animalistic need?
“Colin?”
His hands fisted at his sides. He should step back. He should move to that settee along the far wall and give her the bed. He should leave before something happened. Dredging up what little self-control he had left, Colin started to move.
Something strange flashed across Bea’s eyes, something indecipherable, something completely unlike her, something that made him pause. Slowly, she settled her hands on his chest. Colin sucked in a breath. Almost tauntingly, she drew her hands up, slipping her fingers through the crisp hair on his chest. Her fingers settled at his hips and paused.
“A scar?” She slid her finger over the pale line of puckered skin near his right hip and lifted her eyes questioningly to him.
“Bea.” He pressed his hands over hers, staying the action. “Stop. For your own damn good.”
“Just one.” Her dark lashes lowered. “Just one …” She stood on tiptoe and closed her eyes.
He knew what she wanted. She wanted him to kiss her. But he couldn’t kiss her and stop. He couldn’t. It was too much to ask.
“Bea, I—”
She crushed her mouth to his. Stunned, Colin merely stood there. Bea slipped her fingers into the hair at the base of his neck, caressing the strands. It was a primal kiss. A hard, heated kiss. She’d learned quickly. She drew her tongue along his lower lip, slow and torturous.
Heat pumped through Colin’s veins. With a growl, he scooped her up and laid her upon the soft cushions that made their bed. The edges of her green robe trailed over her nipples and that spot between her legs, hiding her very heat, but hinting at that treasure. Her hair, loose and dark, fanned across the brilliant blue pillows. Damn, she was beautiful.
“Colin, please,” she whispered, reaching out to him.
It was all she needed to say. Suddenly it didn’t matter that they were running for their lives. It didn’t matter that this very home Bea thought was a castle was really a prison and they were most likely trapped. Nothing mattered but her.
He settled beside her on the soft cushions. His hands found the seam of her robe. Slowly, he drew the material wide, the gauze whispering over her pale skin. She was naked. Completely and utterly naked. She was obviously trying to torment him to hell.
He closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, attempting to regain control of his thundering heart. This was Leo’s cousin. Ella’s friend, he tried to remember. But it didn’t help. He opened his eyes and slid his hands up her smooth thighs, farther to her flat stomach, to her breasts. Soft mounds with tight rose-colored nipples begging to be touched. Her skin was flushed, a charming pink that spread from her upper chest to her cheeks. She was embarrassed, he realized, yet she met his gaze boldly, daringly. She wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.
“Dear God, Bea, you’re beautiful.”
She looked away then, the pink on her cheeks deepening.
Colin frowned. “Has no one ever called you beautiful?”
She shook her head and he knew she meant it. The realization tore at his heart. She wasn’t fishing for compliments. Sarah had known from the very moment she was born that she was beautiful, Colin had no doubt. And she’d used that knowledge to lure men to her side like a siren with sailors.
But Bea … Colin found Bea’s innocence rather refreshing and almost sad really. How could she not know? He gave in to temptation and lay next to her. She rolled into him, her body pressing to his. Suddenly meek, she nestled into his neck. Slowly, her fingers trailed through the crisp hair on his chest.
He cupped the back of her head, breathing in her scent. “You were quite alone in that castle, weren’t you?”
She nodded and tilted her head back, looking up at him. There was an unspoken acknowledgment in their gaze, a flash of recognition. Kindred souls. The realization left him feeling odd, off balance. He was so used to being alone, thinking only about himself.
“You understand, don’t you?” she whispered, her pleading eyes peering into his soul.
She needed the truth. He swallowed hard. He’d had so few close acquaintances. How could he with his abilities? She cupped the side of his face and pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss. A kiss that spoke of emotion. Damn it all, if his heart didn’t warm. Somehow, at some point, Bea had pushed aside the stone wall he’d built.
He nudged her back into the satin pillows, deepening the kiss, wishing to forget the turmoil of his mind and soul. As if sensing his need, Bea wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer to her warm, soft body. Frantic for more, he slid his hands down her thighs, shifting his body so he could touch the sensitive skin of her inner legs. She sucked in a breath, the sound like music. Then he touched her there, in the silky folds of her femininity. Bea nipped at his lower lip with a sweet growl.
She was wet, warm, waiting for him.
“Colin.” Bea arched her back, moaning against his mouth, her legs tightening against his hand. “Oh God, Colin, please.”
When he slipped his finger inside her, his cock hardened and pulsed almost painfully against his trousers. Bea’s fingernails bit into his back. Her pleasure was his. His body roared to life with a predatory need to make her his own. But he would not take her. He was an ass, but he held tight to a tiny bit of salvation.
“Come for me, Bea.” He moved to her neck, pressing his mouth to her skin. Lower to her collarbone, still lower to the top of her right breast. Her harsh breath fanned through his hair and her nails dug deeper into his skin. She was close, so close.
With his thumb, he rubbed the sensitive bud that would be her undoing. Bea cried out, arching her back. At the same time, he felt her body tremble, her tight sheath convulsing around his fingers. Sweat broke out on Colin’s forehead as he resisted the urge to replace his fingers with his shaft. His own body grew taut, boiling heat thrumming under his skin. He wanted to drive into her, to take her, to make her his.
Pure bliss crossed Bea’s face and she slumped back i
nto the bed. Her lashes fluttered up, her eyes misty with a sexual haze. She looked lovely, and Colin’s heart melted a little more. Trembling slightly, Colin moved up her body and pressed his mouth to hers.
“I like you, too, Bea,” he whispered against her lips.
Warm light bathed Bea’s eyes, making her lids glow with the gold of morning. Slowly, she became aware of the silky bed beneath her, so soft and clean. At her back, something incredibly warm pressed to her flesh. She resisted the urge to sigh and snuggle closer. She felt odd. As if her entire body hummed, as if she floated. Had she died and this was heaven? She couldn’t seem to find the strength to care about an answer.
That was until a heavy weight suddenly rested across her waist. Reality burst to the forefront and Bea’s lids lifted. A green haze hovered in front of her. It took a moment for her to realize it was material and not something incredibly amiss with her eyesight. Slowly, she glanced down toward her waist where the heavy weight lay. An arm. A muscled, hairy arm.
Colin.
Dear God.
Everything came rushing back on a wave of emotion. Last night. Colin touching her. Naked. She was still naked! Her breath came out in harsh pants as her panic flared. She’d fallen asleep in Colin’s arms … completely, utterly naked. Frantic, she searched for something to cover her form. Her green robe lay at the end of the bed. With a trembling hand, she reached out and slowly drew the material toward her, inch by wretched inch. Every moment of last night flitted through her memory. Every touch, every kiss, every sigh.
Granted, she’d been more than happy to instigate, but now … Heat shot to her cheeks. She crept her way across the bed, away from Colin. Dawn had yet to make an appearance, but she knew morning would soon arrive, and with it, Colin would wake. Then she’d have to avoid eye contact and feel embarrassed all over again. Colin’s arm fell with a soft thud to the pillows. Free, Bea, dashed through the gauze and punched her arms through the sleeves of her robe.
Oh dear Lord, how could she let him do those things? She turned into a complete and utter nit the moment the man looked at her. Ella would be horrified. Leo would kill him. Grandmother would disown her … again. She paced the large room, wringing her hands tightly. No. They couldn’t know. No one must know. Bea made it to the wall and spun around to pace to the other side when she caught sight of a silver tray and a glowing fire. A variety of fruits and nuts lay upon the platter, a platter that had not been there when they’d fallen asleep.
“Breakfast?” Bea whispered.
Someone had entered while they slept? Someone had brought them food and stoked the flames. Someone had seen them! Was her shame to know no boundaries?
Her stomach clenched, growling, and her embarrassment was momentarily forgotten. Bea recognized some of the fruit. Things she’d tasted before. Mango, Colin had called the yellowish piece. She lifted a chunk and slipped it between her lips. The flavor was just as sweet as she’d remembered. On the chair next to the table lay the traditional sari in a brilliant pink. Her own clothing was nowhere to be found. She drifted her fingers across the shimmering material.
“I could get used to living like this,” she mumbled around a mouthful.
“And I could get used to seeing you like this.” Colin’s deep voice washed over her like a lover’s caress.
Heat shot to Bea’s face and she paused, the fruit still in her mouth. Slowly, she turned to face him. Colin was sitting up, his form blurry behind the gauzy curtains, but she couldsee that his hair was mussed and his chest bare. It was an intimate look. The sort of look Bea could imagine seeing Colin wear every morning. The kind of look that should have been reserved for his wife. The thought sent her heart racing. She looked away, afraid he’d read the thoughts in her gaze. She dropped the fruit to the plate with a clatter and pulled her robe tighter. Marriage to Colin? Ridiculous!
“I … are you hungry?” she said, desperate to think of anything other than Colin, every morning, for the rest of her life.
He pulled aside the curtain and stood, the dark blue sheet tied around his waist. Bea watched him move across the room, almost predator-like. His muscles bunched and flexed, his skin golden from the Indian sun. His hair was rumpled, the curls lying haphazardly across his forehead. How badly she wanted to slip her fingers into those strands.
“Good morning,” he said softly.
“Is it morning?”
He glanced toward the windows. “In an hour or two.” There was something in his eyes, something warm and lovely. Something intimate. Something she found she liked. Mesmerized, she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away.
“Well, then, good morning,” she whispered.
He paused only when he reached her side. His scent swirled around her, musky, male, and something else spicy. It must have been in the soap he used. He reached out and took an orange slice, popping it into his mouth. She tried not to stare at his mouth, tried not to remember the way his lips had moved over her body, but not trying was impossible. She looked away, ignoring the tremble of her breath.
“Colin,” she said. “What is the plan exactly?”
He reached for an almond. “Plan?”
She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Yes. Shall we stay here for long?”
“We shall stay, I’m afraid, until we can either escape, or he allows us to leave.” He popped another piece of fruit into his mouth.
Her brows drew together. “But … you mean he’s keeping us here?”
“He, and the men surrounding the walls outside.”
Bea’s eyes grew wide. “Men?”
Colin settled in a chair, easing back as if he hadn’t a worry in the world. He crossed his arms over his chest, the movement sending his muscles bulging. “Of course. Who do you think keeps the poor out?”
Bea hesitated, unsure, then moved to the double doors that led out onto the patio. A tall wall surrounded the home, much like the castle she’d grown up in. But this one was solid, not crumbling and uncared for. He was right. They were trapped, for only the Lord knew how long.
A soft scratch whispered through the room. So soft, that at first Bea thought she’d imagined it. Confused, she spun around.
Colin stood.
“Did I imagine that?” Bea asked, rushing to his side.
Slowly, the door creaked open. A small woman in a dark blue sari moved silently into the room. The silver threads through her dark hair were the only indication of her age. Her hands were clasped tightly together, her dark eyes wide and white in the murky darkness. Bea remembered the woman, one of many who’d brought food for them last night. What was her name? Ashwini?
“Come.” She didn’t wait for their response, but swept back through the door from which she’d just entered.
Colin dropped the sheet, his bare backside exposed. Bea was speechless. He dressed quickly, but like a man unconcerned with modesty. Clothed, he rushed to the door, and Bea finally regained the use of her tongue.
“Colin, you can’t possibly be thinking of …”
He paused, glancing back. “You coming?”
“But we don’t know what she wants.”
He shrugged.
Knowing he’d leave her, Bea grabbed the loose trousers and shirt left by the servants and turned her back to him. Giving him a taste of his own medicine, she dropped her robe. He didn’t say a word, but she could feel him staring, feel his gaze burning into her back. A smile of success quirked her lips. Quickly she dressed in the traditional woman’s garb. When she turned, he was watching her, his gaze hard. She’d seen that look before. She’d seen that look last night.
Chin high, she swept past him and out the door. “Well, you coming?”
She didn’t look back after baiting him. Sashaying as she’d seen the native women do, Bea followed Ashwini down the dark hall. But her glee at putting Colin in his place faded. The palace was quiet, the people asleep. What was this woman doing awake? Colin fell in step beside Bea and latched on to her arm.
“Are you sure we can trust her
?” Bea whispered.
“No,” Colin replied.
Bea frowned. Was he being intentionally evasive? They turned a sharp corner and the woman was gone. Colin paused.
Bea turned, searching the darkness. “Where …”
The woman peeked her head out from behind a curtain. “Come.” She held the curtain wide. Colin wasted no time, but followed, taking Bea with him. The curtain fell into place with a soft whisper, enclosing them in a false safety. There, in the small alcove, Bea could make out another woman, holding something …
A soft mew whispered through the darkness. A child, Bea realized, stiffening. Immediately, she knew what they wanted. Apparently, Colin did, too.
“Damn,” he snapped. “Should have stayed put.”
She knew he didn’t mean the words. The child wasn’t more than two. He was pale, sweating, lifeless in his mother’s arms. Bea pressed her hands to her aching heart.
“Help my sister,” the woman whispered, peering up at Colin, her eyes pleading.
Colin hesitated. “What do I get in return?”
The woman glanced at the baby, the desperation apparent in the tight lines of her face. She didn’t seem offended by Colin’s response. In fact, she seemed to assume he’d ask.
“I know nothing.”
Colin crossed his arms over his chest, his face passive. “Liar.”
Bea resisted the urge to flinch at Colin’s harshness. The baby gave a deep wheezing breath that sounded so incredibly close to death, Bea had to resist the urge to demand Colin help the child.
“He comes tonight,” Ashwini blurted out. “Tonight the man with the green eyes comes.” The woman latched on to Colin’s arm, any sense of hesitancy gone. “Please. Help. Shiva will keep you to himself. He will not use you to help others as he says. You will be a prisoner. We can help you.”
Colin had been right all along. Shiva was no friend. Another greedy monster. But how could they possibly trust this woman?
Colin shifted. “You’ll help us escape?”
The woman nodded. “Anything.”
They were quiet for one long moment; the only sound was the soft, whimpering murmur of the lad. She knew he’d help, she knew Colin would help no matter what, yet she couldn’t seem to keep her heart from clenching as she waited with bated breath. The child’s head lolled back and he met Bea’s gaze. Bea’s soul ached, breaking into tiny pieces.