The man narrowed his eyes and started toward them, dust puffing around his heavy black boots. Each thud of his feet sent Bea’s pulse racing faster and she had to resist the urge to scream and run.
Colin stepped back, his body nudging her off center. She squeaked and latched on to his waist. He tilted his head to the side, his mouth close to hers. “If I tell you to run, run.”
Bea’s back grew damp, sweat snaking down between her shoulder blades. “Without you?”
“Yes.”
Marco and his friends moved closer.
Heavens, this could not be happening. Even if she survived and miraculously made it to Bombay, how would she tell Ella that Colin had died? No, no, Colin wouldn’t die. Yes, he was a bastard, but he didn’t deserve to die! Frantically, she glanced around the alley, looking for a weapon, anything to assist the idiotic man who’d gotten them into this mess. Someone would have to save them, and it looked as if that someone would be her.
“You are not going to get rid of me that easily,” she muttered.
Colin glanced back at her, just long enough for her to read the amusement in his blue eyes.
Irate, she twisted the material of his shirt in her fists. “You think this is funny?”
He shrugged, indifferent. “Just remember to run, darlin’.”
Bea stood on tiptoe, looking over his shoulder. Marco and his bastard friends were close. Too close. Big, burly men that Colin certainly couldn’t fight alone and come out the winner. She glanced at the wooden crates stacked in the alley. There had to be something … anything she could use to help. But the only thing of any interest was a pile of cow droppings and she doubted that would do much damage to men like them.
“Now really, let’s be honest,” Colin called out to the men. “We know what this is really about.”
Marco paused, his dark eyes narrowing. “And that is?”
“That English ass Henry.”
Marco’s bulbous nostrils flared ever so slightly, his only telling response. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Admit it, he’s paid you to keep me busy, hasn’t he?”
A slight movement flickered across Bea’s line of vision. Confused, she took a hesitant step back, her eyes narrowing. A small form sat huddled near a pile of crates. His head lifted and huge, dark eyes met hers. Bea sucked in a breath. Raj!
“Does it matter?” Marco asked. “Either way, you’re a dead man.”
Bea’s heart slammed against her chest. Dash it! Raj hadn’t left after all. It was one thing to be in danger, but to place a child in the middle of a brawl? She glanced at Colin, then back at the boy. Raj was so young, he couldn’t be more than thirteen, and who knew what horrors he’d see. Before she could shoo him with a wave of her hands, he started trembling. The boxes he leaned against rattled.
“And if I pay you more than Henry is offering?”
Marco laughed. Bea wanted to laugh along with the man. It was ridiculous. Their situation preposterous. This was not happening!
Marco slammed his fist into his open palm, the thud crackling through the alley. “Let’s face it, my friend, you don’t have that kind of money.”
Raj shifted. Bea snapped her gaze toward him. He was crouched low, like an animal about to spring. Her breath caught as she resisted the urge to yell out no! He couldn’t flee. If he moved, she knew they’d start firing.
“Colin,” she whispered, her eyes still pinned to the boy.
“Not now.”
“Colin, Raj!” she said, ignoring his command.
He glanced at her. She nodded toward the crates.
Colin jerked his gaze that way. “Damn.”
She didn’t dare flinch, barely parted her lips to respond. “Perhaps we could call a moment’s cease-fire?”
Colin rolled his eyes. “Darlin’, this isn’t one of your fancy British wars with rules and regulations. They see the lad, he’s as good as dead. He’s a witness.”
“But he’s just a—”
“Give us the money or your head,” Marco ordered, stepping closer and lifting his lips into a snarl.
“Here,” Bea whispered, slipping her hand into her pocket. “Take the money you gave me.”
“It’s not enough.”
She knew it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t daft. But still, it might tide them over.
Colin gave the men in front of them a mocking smile. “And if we do, you won’t shoot us?”
Bea resisted the urge to sigh in frustration. Their conversation was pointless. Bea hoped Colin was trying to buy time while he came up with a plan.
Marco shrugged. “Yes, we’ll still shoot you, but I can promise a quicker death.”
Bea’s stomach churned, and not for the first time since arriving, she felt her last meal making its way up her throat. She gagged, the sound like a dying cat. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t stand here and wait for death.
Colin shot her an irritated glance. “Don’t you dare get sick on me.”
She swallowed hard and gripped his wrist. “Colin, what will we do?”
“Give them the money.” He stepped back and settled his hands on his waist. “All right, boys. Easy.” He tilted his head closer to Bea, his lips only a breath from her ear. “The moment I bring my hands up, dive behind those crates,” he whispered. “And remember. Run if something happens to me.”
Bea couldn’t breathe, couldn’t agree to his ridiculous plan because she was too stunned and too bloody afraid to move.
“Bea,” he snapped. His gaze had gone steely, the blue somehow turning gray. Gone was the laughing man she’d come to know. And for one brief moment, hope flared to life. Perhaps Colin could save her. “Do you understand?”
She gave a quick jerk of her head.
“Now!” He pulled his hands up. Bea dove to the side, stumbling into Raj’s bony frame. She fell to the ground with a thud, the boy half under her weight. Blasts rang out, so loud her ears buzzed. Raj wiggled under her.
“No!” Bea cried, grasping on to his thin arm. She jerked him back. The lad fought her, his limbs flailing, elbows digging into her sides. “You must stay put!”
But the boy was heedless to her cries. Frantic with fear, he gave her one hard shove and she fell back into a crate. The edge of a box dug into her back, making her cry out in pain. She could just see the beige of his shirt as he darted down the alley. Bea stumbled to her feet, intending to go after him. Her foot caught on the hem of her gown. The dress pulled tight and she crumbled to the ground. Her elbows hit hard dirt, her cheek pressed to the cool earth.
Blasts burst again like thunder, so loud the ground shook.
Then there was silence.
Colin. Dear God, Colin!
Terror pulsed through her body in a quick, steady rhythm. She pushed herself up to her elbows. Colin stood in the middle of the lane. A sob of relief caught in Bea’s throat, tears burning her eyes. He wasn’t dead. She jumped to her feet and rushed at him. Without hesitation, she threw her arms around his neck. He stumbled back a step, but she didn’t let go. Honestly, she’d never been happier to see a person than she was at that moment.
“It’s all right.” His body was warm and she was cold, so cold. She couldn’t seem to stop shaking. She didn’t have to look to make sure the men had been taken care of. She knew. She could feel it in the relaxed stance of his body.
“I’m sorry,” she was finally able to mutter moments later. “I’m not at all used to such—”
“I know. But we need to leave. Now.”
She nodded, her head bumping his chin. Taking in a deep breath, for one brief moment she savored the scent of him. There was something warm, something oddly comforting in the man’s scent. She realized, in that moment, that perhaps he wasn’t as cowardly as she’d deduced. Her fingers curled against his hard chest, her heart skipping a beat. Finally, she stepped back. He was watching her, a curious look upon his face. Heat rose from her neck to her cheeks. How could she throw herself at him? It was childish, ridiculous
.
She turned her head away, unable to look him in the eyes. “I … I …”
Bea caught sight of a bare foot peeking out from behind a pile of rubble. Her heart stopped before kicking into a mad pace. She thought he’d escaped. She hesitated only a moment, then burst forward.
“Please don’t be Raj!”
The boy lay upon the ground, a pool of dark red blood soaking into the yellow dirt beneath him. Bea’s heart squeezed.
“No!” She reached for him, but was jerked back. Bea spun around, her fists raised.
“Bea, calm yourself!” Colin snapped.
“He’s dead! They killed him!” She struggled against his hold, feeling she should do something to help the poor boy, anything.
Colin shook her. “Calm down, damn it.”
“Calm down?” She slammed her fists against his hard chest and glared up at him. How could he be so cruel? How could he not care? “He’s just a child, a little boy, and he died because he was trying to help us.”
Colin gripped her shoulders, forcing her to look directly at him. “Go up ahead. Keep watch and yell out if anyone comes near. I’ll look him over.”
His odd words gave her pause. Confused, Bea shook her head. “You? What in the bloody world can you do?” Didn’t he understand, Raj was dead. Dead.
“Go,” he demanded, pushing her forward. “You’re wasting time.”
She wanted to argue, but at the fierce look on his face, she turned and rushed down the lane, not daring to glance at the boy’s body. Where two alleys intersected, she paused, making sure to stay against the wall, where the shadows and night kept her well hidden.
In the background she could hear the people still protesting. So many angry people, angry at her. Fear snaked its way through her body, clinging to her nerves. The desire to run overwhelmed her. She spun around. Down the lane she could just make out a man lying in the dirt. The same man who’d wanted them dead. Now he was dead. So much blood, so much death.
She grew dizzy, her stomach rolling. Bea swerved on her feet, sinking back against the rough wall of some abode. She’d faint. She wanted to faint. She couldn’t faint. She’d be of no help unconscious. Frantic, she searched for Colin, needing to see him.
He was just barely visible crouched down by the lad, half-hidden among the crates. What was he doing? The boy was dead. An innocent child who’d done no wrong. Guilt tore at her heart, dropping piece by piece into the hollow cavity of her chest. Her knees gave out and she slid down the wall, the rough texture of the plaster biting through her bodice. Did he have a mother or father who’d come looking for him? Bea’s hands fisted and she slammed them back against the wall as tears burned her eyes with a painful sting.
“Bea.” Colin’s muffled voice floated to her and broke through her despair.
She blinked and suddenly he was standing in front of her, the boy cradled in his arms. “Bea, damn it, look at me.”
Reality rushed in like a slap. She sucked in a breath. “What happened?”
Colin frowned, sweat gleaming across his tanned skin. He looked tired. Exhausted really. “I’d say you were about to faint.”
“Not with me, you baboon, the boy!”
At the sound of her voice, Raj turned his head and looked directly at her. Bea gasped, stumbling back. His dark eyes were wide and full of life.
She shook her head, her gaze scanning his body, taking in the blood-soaked shirt where a rip was clearly visible from a bullet wound. “He was … he was dead.”
“No. He wasn’t,” Colin said, brushing past her. He set the boy on his feet. “Now, come on. We have to get out of here before more men arrive.”
“More? But … but …”
Raj took no time in scurrying down the lane, shouting something in his language and waving them forward. Colin started after him, then apparently realizing Bea still stood there, he paused and glanced back. There were dark circles under his eyes, and where he’d once been smiling, now his mouth was held in a tight, grim line. Exhausted. He looked exhausted. Something odd had happened and Bea had no rational explanation.
He placed his hands on his narrow hips and sighed. “Darlin’, I’m going with the lad. You coming, or you staying here?”
Chapter 7
“Colin,” Bea called out breathlessly. “Please. You must explain!”
He knew she’d follow. What choice did she have? But the thought of having to explain what had happened left him cold. He had to give some sort of explanation.
Reluctantly, he turned. She slammed into him, her hands flattening against his chest. A breath of air escaped her lips, a caress that whispered across his neck. Unwanted heat shimmered over his skin. A sane man would have jerked away from her. Obviously he’d lost control of his sanity. Even in his exhausted state, he found himself reacting to her touch. He shook aside the unsettling feeling and wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her from stepping back. She felt good under his fingers, her body soft and warm, and if only for a moment, he wanted to soak in her essence, to forget reality.
“Don’t we need to run?”
“We’re all right, for now. The trees will hide us and no one will think twice when they find the bodies in the alley.” And he was too damn weak to move any faster, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to admit that.
In the dim light, he could see the charming flush that had settled on her high cheekbones. Her bonnet had slipped back and her hair had long ago come loose from the tight bun, falling in cascades around her face. With the moonlight bathing her in silver, she looked … well … beautiful. And that thought was ridiculous considering they were running for their lives.
Needing something mundane to occupy his troubling thoughts, he untied the straw hat and tossed it aside.
“My bonnet!” She started to reach for it, but paused, as if realizing that her hat was the least of their problems. Taking in a deep breath, she stood on tiptoe and tilted her face up only inches from his. For one insane moment, he thought she might kiss him. Time ceased. His heart slammed against his ribs, begging her to move closer … closer …
“Where are we going?” she whispered against his ear.
Confused, he pulled back.
Her gaze was on Raj, and he realized with some disappointment that she’d stepped close to him so the lad wouldn’t overhear.
Colin blinked away his lustful thoughts, annoyed with her, more annoyed with himself. “I haven’t the slightest.”
Without waiting for her response, he started forward again, dragging her down a dark alley, behind stone homes. He felt disappointed that she hadn’t kissed him. Which was odd, considering he didn’t even like her. But then, she was an attractive woman, he argued with himself. Plus, after saving the lad, his defenses were weak. And women were certainly his weakness.
“But … but …”
“You’re stuttering, darlin’.”
“Well, do you blame me?” Her steps caught up to him. “I’m basically placing my life in the hands of a boy who has risen from the dead and you. You!”
He quirked a brow and grinned, a grin that most women found quite disarming, or so he’d been told. She didn’t seem disarmed. She seemed annoyed. For some reason he found that amusing.
“Well, really,” she rasped. “I don’t know you in the least, and if this night is any indication of the company you keep, maybe I don’t want to remedy that.”
“Yes,” he said, tearing his gaze from her and studying the row of stone homes that branched out around them. He needed to focus on their surroundings, not an arrogant Englishwoman and her lush lips. “It’s really very improper of you to keep company with me.”
“I had no choice!” she cried.
Most of the people had fled to watch the protesting. He shrugged, peering into the shadows of the buildings that scattered around the outskirts of Delhi, looking for movement or anything of a suspicious nature. “Your reputation is surely ruined.”
She slapped his arm. “You’re not amusing, sir.” She looked
away, but not before he saw the gleam of tears glistening in her eyes.
Guilt tugged at his heart. Hell. She was a gently bred woman alone with a man she barely knew in a foreign country. Most females would be in hysterics by now. Perhaps she wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d thought.
“Bea—”
“Miss Edmund,” she snapped, giving a delicate sniff. But she wasn’t done with her pout. She crossed her arms over her chest and refused to look at him.
Colin pinched the bridge of his nose, but secretly delighted that the stubborn woman he’d come to know had apparently returned. A strong, impossible woman he could handle, but one crying … he was looking for the easiest way to escape.
“Miss Edmund, no one will possibly care about your reputation here. And it is highly, highly unlikely anyone back home will hear about your little jaunts through the back alleys of Delhi.”
She released a puff of air, which sent her dark strands to momentary flight. “You don’t know my grandmother.”
He clasped her shoulders in his hands, surprised by how delicate she felt. He was too used to being alone. She needed protection, and he’d vowed to protect her. He was the first to admit that he might have been a bastard at times, but he always kept his promises. “I swore to Leo I’d keep you safe, and that includes your reputation.”
She sighed, her shoulders sinking with despair, a despair that darkened her amber eyes to a deeper gold. “You can’t promise that. You have no control—”
“Just trust me, for God’s sake.”
She pressed her lips into a thin line, as if trying to keep from crying. Guilt knotted his stomach. Gone was the awestruck woman he’d seen this morning as they traveled the streets of Delhi. Gone was the dazzling smile she wore when she was in Ella and Leo’s company. He’d give anything to see her eyes flash with anger or joy. But he couldn’t see her like this, with fear lingering on her face. Fear he was powerless to remove.
“Come,” Raj called out impatiently. The boy waved them forward, the blood on his beige shirt like a beacon for death, a sign to all of how close he’d come to the end of his short life. “Home.”