“Like Shiva?”
He didn’t respond. For some reason she had the odd feeling that this third option was the worst. Had someone else tried to use Colin? A friend? A family member?
“Something’s wrong.” Colin pulled back on the reins, there, hidden among the trees.
“What is it?” Bea peeked around his shoulder, peering through the brush, then up to the canopy above. “I don’t understand. What’s—”
It was only then that she realized somehow the sun had faded. There was a hazy dullness to the sky. She pulled away from Colin’s back, her spine stiffening. An odd hum buzzed through the air, a lack of noise. Birds didn’t chirp. Even the insects had grown silent. When had it started? She wasn’t sure. It could have been ten minutes ago, or an hour. She’d been so bloody tired, she hadn’t noticed.
“Cloud,” Colin said, pointing ahead.
Just barely visible through the trees a low, dark cloud hovered over the land, coming toward them. A cloud like none she’d ever seen before … menacing, expanding. “I don’t understand.” Her voice hitched, fear making the words stick in her throat.
The wind suddenly swooshed through the brush, sending twigs and sand through the air. Bea screeched and ducked her head down against Colin’s back. An eerie howl erupted, swirling around them as if they were surrounded by wolves.
“Sandstorm,” Colin shouted. He nudged his heels into the mount’s sides. The horse burst forward, following the path as it led through scrub brush. “Pull the scarf over your nose and mouth.”
Bea did as she was told, keeping her head bent and clinging to Colin’s waist as the wind pulled and tugged at her hair. He’d said the word “sandstorm” as if she should know what he was talking about. Her mind spun, her heart racing.
“Hold tight,” Colin said, the wind taking his words so she could barely hear even though he sat directly in front of her. “Almost there.”
Bea dared to peek over his shoulder. The trees kept some of the dirt and sand from getting into her eyes, but not enough. She lowered her lashes, narrowing her eyes to slits. The path flared, and there, among the tangle of brush and trees, erupted a stone temple. Ashwini had been right.
“How long will we stay here?”
“Long enough to hide from the storm.” Colin pulled back on the reins. Trees grew up the temple, roots and branches interlacing throughout the carvings of beasts and people so that one could barely tell stone from vegetation. A low rumble of thunder shook the ground.
Colin leapt from the mount and jerked Bea down before she had a chance to prepare. “Are you sure it’s the right temple?” she asked.
“Don’t know, but for now, it is.”
He took her hand and pulled her toward the building. She could barely think, barely remember to use her legs with the sand stinging her skin. Rubble littered the area, produced by the wind and age. Colin jumped atop a column that blocked their path and lifted Bea. She jumped down, her breath coming out in soft pants. Sand got in her eyes, blinding her momentarily. She stumbled. Colin slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her close.
“The storm will keep them from following and will cover our tracks,” Colin yelled over the howl of the wind.
Leaves swirled through the air in a whirlwind that taunted and pulled at her hair and clothing. Branches snapped, popping like dried bones before being tossed about by the wind. They started up the shallow flight of steps and burst through the open door. Inside, they were met with blessed silence.
Bea sank against the cold stone wall, her chest rising and falling with each harsh breath. “How long will it last?”
Colin shrugged, resting his hands on his narrow hips. “No idea. I’m getting the horse. You stay put.”
Bea pushed away from the wall. “But Colin …”
He raced back out into the wind, ignoring her. Bea sighed, her shoulders sinking. Through the swirling debris and sand, she could barely see him. Slowly, her gaze began to adjust to the gloom. Statues morphed from the walls, the bodies bent in odd poses. Curious, Bea stepped farther into the temple. There, into the tunnel, the wind produced an eerie howl that set Bea’s nerves on edge. But the noise was pushed in the background of her subconscious as she studied the carvings on the walls.
Bea brushed the sand and dirt from her face. From the statues, people emerged. People embracing and kissing. Bea stepped closer.
Oh my.
Heat shot to Bea’s cheeks. Hesitant, she glanced back. Colin was just coming up the steps with the reins in hand, leading their mount to safety. He wasn’t paying her the least bit of attention. She reached out, running her fingers over two figures, the man bent over a woman. Confused, she tilted her head to the left, then right.
“Colin, what …”
Realization came swift and embarrassing. Colin let the mount wander and made his way toward her. Pausing near the statues, he took one glance and lifted a brow. Of course, he found her embarrassment amusing.
The heat in Bea’s cheeks intensified. “I … It … Never mind.” She moved away, avoiding his gaze.
“Come, we’ll go farther back where the winds can’t find us.” Colin took her hand and pulled her into the dark doorway, the knapsack over his left shoulder.
Bea followed, eager to be anywhere but near the confusing statues. Farther back they moved, until the tunnel flared into another open room. In the center of the room was a small pond that had once been an impressive temple fountain. Clear water filled the hole, not green or brown, but oddly pristine. Bea leaned over, staring at her reflection. She was dirty, her nose and cheeks reddened by the sun. For a moment she didn’t recognize herself. She wasn’t sure if she should be horrified, but oddly wasn’t.
She pulled back and studied their surroundings. An area that was clean of debris, but filled with more caressing figurines. Someone had come here and come here often.
“It’s clean,” Bea whispered, clasping her upper arms. “Shouldn’t there be debris and creepy-crawly beasties?”
Colin dropped the bag, the soft thud echoing through the room. “Yes, if no one knew about it, or visited.”
Ashwini knew about the place.
“The statues, do they look familiar?” Colin asked.
Bea frowned and moved closer, studying the stone people. A man and woman kissing arched from the wall. A man standing with a woman’s bare legs wrapped around his waist was in front of her. She peeked around the statue and came face-to-face with a woman, kissing a man’s … Her eyes widened.
She’d seen that statue before. “Shiva.”
“Yep,” Colin replied. “He must have gotten the ideas for his unusual artwork here.”
Fear clenched her gut, momentarily replacing her embarrassment. “But then, he could come back.” She spun around and faced Colin. “Ashwini lied!”
“No, I’d say his sister knew exactly what she was doing. No one would ever think to look for us here, and with the sandstorm, we’re in luck.” Colin flipped open the knapsack. Bea stood frozen in indecision. Could they trust Ashwini? Hadn’t Colin told her to trust no one?
His gaze lifted to her. “We can trust her.”
Had he read her mind? It left her feeling uneasy. She laughed, the sound echoing through the large room. “Is that one of your special gifts, too? You know who you can and can’t trust.”
She shouldn’t have said the words, especially not in such a biting way. But she was frightened and confused. And when he didn’t respond, merely continued to stare at her, her guilt flared.
Bea sighed. “Colin, I’m—”
“I knew enough to trust you.”
She froze, her heart slamming erratically in her chest.
He stood and swept past her. “We’ll rest here. Put down your bedding. I’ll keep watch.”
He moved toward the entrance, away from her, and Bea was left to wonder if she’d just imagined his intimate words.
Chapter 22
Bea couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t that the temple was too cold, which it w
as. Nor was it that the ground was too hard, which it was. It was that fact that Colin sat only feet from her, his body outlined by the lone torch they’d lit.
Outside, the winds still howled, an eerie sound that raised the fine hairs on the back of her neck. But the storm was the least of their worries. No, Colin remained the thorn in her side, the constant thought in her tumultuous mind. She should be sleeping while she had the chance. But she couldn’t stop looking at Colin, thinking about him, remembering.
I knew enough to trust you.
The words echoed through her head over and over again.
She felt the importance of that statement, deep and penetrating. Colin didn’t trust easily. She’d known that the moment she met the man. He trusted her. He’d trusted her the moment they met. Warmth seeped through her very being. There, under the knowingly seductive gazes of the statues, all in ridiculously sensual positions, she couldn’t help thinking of Colin. In those statues of men with their shirts off, she saw Colin, his chest bare, his muscles hard and smooth like marble. Those mountains and valleys that traveled his stomach …
In the women, whose faces were hazy with bliss, she saw herself, knowing that was how she looked when he touched her, when he kissed her, when he merely looked at her. And remembering sent heat through her body, made the ache in her lower belly intensify so that she thought she couldn’t bear the need.
Biting her lower lip to keep from groaning, she pulled her gaze from his still form and clenched her knees to her chest. But not looking at him only left the statues. In the safety of the shadows, she studied those still forms unabashedly. She’d seen statues of naked people but those were considered art. Those statues didn’t make her body flush with a heated desire. Those statues didn’t make her want to do sinful things with a man she’d just met.
If only she hadn’t let him kiss her. If only she hadn’t let him touch her, then she wouldn’t know, would never know what his caress felt like. Never know what it felt like to see the stars, to feel such intense pleasure that nothing could compare.
She licked her dry lips and focused on the statue closest to her. A male stood behind a woman, his hands covering her breasts, his lips on her neck. It was simple and tame compared to the others. It didn’t matter. To Bea’s aching body, it only added fuel.
Her heart skipped a beat before taking off into a wild gallop. Her body flared with passion, a need she barely understood, but she knew that need was for Colin. Never had she felt this way and the sensations left her confused. Slowly, she inched her blanket away, feeling confined under its weight. The cool air swept over her skin like a cold caress. It didn’t help. She squirmed, a sigh escaping her lips.
“Bea, you can sleep. They can’t find us now, not in this storm.” Colin’s voice was soft.
Bea rolled her eyes. As if that were why she couldn’t sleep. She sat up, staring directly at him. With the movement, the trousers she wore tightened around her thighs and only heightened the ache. The material clung to places no one but Colin had touched. There were no layers of crinoline to guard her virtue.
She could kiss him. Stand, walk over to him, and press her lips to his. He liked her, didn’t he? He’d kissed her more than once.
Ridiculous. She wasn’t that bold.
“It’s hot. Are you hot?” She didn’t wait for his response but crawled to the edge of the pond. Without pause, she dipped her hands into the water and poured the cool liquid down the front of her shirt. She didn’t want Colin. Of course not. She was a refined lady, and refined ladies did not do things like … touch … kiss …
With a sigh, she settled back on her heels. Did he really like her? Or was she just another woman to him? Did he remember the way he touched her? The way she moaned his name? Heat flushed her cheeks. Slowly, she glanced back, her chin to her shoulder as she peeked at him. His face was turned away from her. There, seated against the sandstone wall with his shirt hanging open, the man looked like a statue come to life.
As if pulled by some unknown force, Bea started forward on her hands and knees. Her gaze pinned to him, she suddenly felt like a hunter and he her prey. She had no idea what she planned to do when she reached his side. Shove him backward, press her mouth to his, tear off his clothes. How shocked he’d be. The thought almost made her giggle. Only a few feet from him, she paused in indecision.
“What do you want, Bea?” he asked, his gaze still focused on the far wall.
What did she want? You. You to touch me. To make me moan your name.
“How did you see me approach?” she asked, more to fill the silence than to satisfy any curiosity.
He turned his head, looking directly at her. “I could smell you.”
That gave her pause. She wasn’t quite sure if she should be embarrassed or not. “Do I smell that horrible?”
She thought the corner of his mouth lifted, but with the lack of light, she wasn’t quite sure. “No. Quite the opposite. Your scent is … refreshing, clean, unique. Sometimes I think I could pick up your scent from a million others.”
Her heart hammered in her chest, his words taunting her already flared desire. She crawled closer to him, her hands on the cool stone floor. “Do you know what you smell like?”
He laughed, lowering his thick lashes as he looked at the ground. “I can imagine.”
She didn’t pause until her face was only a breath from his. “Sunlight. Warmth.”
His jaw clenched, his throat working as he swallowed. She didn’t wait for him to kiss her, but leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Mad. She was completely and utterly mad. She didn’t know how she’d become so bold. Perhaps it was the statues. Perhaps the fact that she was experienced now. Or perhaps because she ached fiercely and knew only Colin could ease that pain.
Bea wrapped her arms around his neck as his fingers slid into her hair.
“Colin,” she whispered against his mouth. “How terribly I’ve wanted to kiss you.”
He growled low in his throat. They both came up on their knees, desperate to touch body to body. Colin tugged on her hair, tilting her head back. “Do you realize what words like that can do to a man?”
He pressed his lips to her neck. Shivers raced over her skin, heated tremors that shook in her core.
“Such words can drive a man insane, Bea.”
But she wanted him mad, mad with desire. Mad with wanting her.
Colin stood, lifting Bea with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he pressed her back against the cold sandstone. Trapped between the wall and the hard man holding her, a thrill coursed through her body. This was what she’d wanted, what she’d dreamt about while lying there. Colin cupped her backside, while his mouth found hers. Slow and torturous, he nipped at her bottom lip.
Bea slipped her fingers into the soft curls at the base of his neck. She was frantic. Frantic to have more of him, all of him. His lips moved to her jaw line, lower to her neck. Tingles raced over her skin, the rough scrape of scruff on his face only increasing the pleasure. His lips moved lower, to that valley between her breasts.
“Dear God, Bea, I’ve never tasted anything so sweet.”
With her legs still wrapped around his waist, he carried her toward the small bed. Finally, she loosened her hold and slid down his hard body. Her feet landed with a soft thud, her knees trembling so hard they nearly gave out. Bea had to lean against Colin merely to keep standing. He cupped the sides of her face and stared into her eyes as if looking for something. What? She didn’t want him to pause. She didn’t want him to think. She didn’t want him to stop touching her. She was tired of waiting for life, waiting for things to happen to her.
She placed her hands over his. “I want you, Colin, please.”
He closed his eyes briefly, as if fighting a battle. A battle he was obviously losing. Bea had to resist the urge to grin and instead pressed her body to his, tempting him in a way she didn’t realize she could. The passion in Colin’s gaze flared to life. His hands slid down her neck, over her shoulders, to
the open collar of her shirt. He flipped open her top button and rested his hand there, in the valley between her breasts, over her heart. Slowly, he drew his knuckles up and down her sensitive skin.
Bea grew light-headed. Her breasts felt heavy, her nipples hard against the material of her shirt. Colin’s attention left her eyes, pausing at her lips, traveling lower. She couldn’t seem to breathe. Her chest rose and fell with shallow pants. He flipped open the next button, and the next, until her shirt hung wide, whispering around her waist. His hands slipped to her belly, his fingers warm against her skin.
“You don’t wear a corset any longer,” he whispered the obvious.
“It was too confining.”
He smiled, a rakish smile that showed his dimples and made her heart skip a beat. “Your hair is loose.” He picked up the long braid that hung down her back.
“When it was up, it was too tight. It made my head ache.”
He smiled again. She wasn’t sure why he found her discomfort amusing.
“I … I can put it back up.” She started to reach for the braid, but he shook his head.
“No,” he whispered, his hands going to her braid. He pulled at the ribbon, and the blue satin fluttered to the floor. Slowly, he raked his fingers through her hair until the strands fell in waves down her back.
“You are so lovely,” he said softly, so softly that she wondered if she’d heard him correctly or merely hoped for the words.
His hands settled at her waist once more and he pressed his lips to hers in a soft, gentle kiss that stopped her thoughts and questions. She slipped her fingers through his hair, stroking the strands and urging him to continue. When his tongue boldly entered her mouth, she met him thrust for thrust.
This was what a kiss was supposed to be like. This was what a kiss was always supposed to be like. Bea finally understood what the poets wrote about. Why women gave up everything, even their own innocence, for a man. She finally understood passion.
With an ease that belied her weight, he slipped his arm beneath her legs and swept her up into his arms. Just as quickly, he laid her gently upon the blanket that formed her bed. Her shirt fell open, her nipples just barely concealed.