You came.”
Her breath caught as Harrison reached out his hand, helped her into the rickshaw, his touch every bit as intoxicating as she remembered.
“You doubted it?”
His eyes crinkled into cute half moons as he laughed. “Well, you weren’t exactly falling at my feet yesterday. Even though I did my best to make you.”
Realization slammed into her, quickly followed by indignation. “You tripped me on purpose?”
The half moons widened in mock outrage. “What sort of a guy do you think I am?”
“You really want me to answer that?”
Giving the driver instructions, he sat back, waved her on. “Please do.”
She could give him a prim response, filled with judgment and censure. But this wasn’t a day for careful choosing of words. This was a day for embarking on an adventure. Besides, she’d already taken the first step on this escapade by meeting him here.
“You’re an intrepid explorer. Conquering far lands, going where a whim takes you. Free.”
A shadow passed over his face but it vanished so quickly she didn’t know if it was a flicker of the sun bouncing off the tarpaulin shading them or not.
“Accurate assessment.”
He smiled a slow, hedonistic smile that spoke of long, leisurely days at the beach and long, frantic nights of lovemaking beneath the stars. “Though you left something out.”
“What’s that?”
“This intrepid explorer has fallen for a mysterious woman with eyes like a tiger.”
Her heart sang with joy at his poetic words, while her head scolded its gullible stupidity.
If anyone should know the futility of believing smooth words, she should. Byron had been a master. Lord Byron, she’d nicknamed him later, much later, after the hurt had faded and she’d steeled her heart against trusting any man. She’d been a kid, he’d been the only father she’d ever had and he’d vanished anyway. All those trinkets he’d brought from his travels overseas, all the letters and postcards, all the board games and doll’s dresses and smoothing back her hair when she’d had a nightmare, had meant nothing.
While Leela had mourned the loss of her boyfriend, she’d systematically destroyed every gift, every lousy reminder of him, and vowed to never be so trusting again.
“You’ve fallen for me after a day? Sure thing.”
“Less than a day, actually.”
She should bring a halt to this madness but found herself enjoying his flirting too much to heed the dire warnings flashing through her subconscious.
“How so?”
He traced a fingertip across the back of her hand where it rested in her lap, a tantalizing slow trail that traveled up her arm, across her shoulder, exquisitely teasing her skin before coming to rest under her chin and tipping it up, leaving her no option but to meet his fervent gaze.
“I fell for you the moment we met.”
“Love at first sight?”
She snorted her contempt at the notion, while secretly thrilled at the lengths he’d go to charm her.
“Don’t believe in it?”
“Only in the movies.”
He studied her, his curious gaze scrutinizing, before he dropped his hand. “Let me guess, you’re an action gal rather than rom-com.”
“I like anything with a good story line.”
“Liar.”
His whisper had her gaze searching out his, startled by how easily he read her, scared by how that penetrating stare seemed to see directly to her soul.
With a faux huff, she folded her arms and pouted. “Fine. I love romances. There, happy?”
Wiggling his eyebrows until she laughed, he said, “I will be if you indulge me.”
“Are you ever serious?”
His laughter petered out, his smile fading to nothing and she clamped her lips shut, wishing she could take it back.
Silence stretched between them, taut and uncomfortable, and she cursed her inexperience, wishing she could break this deadlock and revert to the fun they’d been having before.
“I’ve had my fair share of serious. It’s overrated.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“And risk spoiling this beautiful day?”
His arm swept wide, encompassing the vibrant Goan streets around them: the majestic Catholic churches left over from the Portuguese settlement days, the spice stalls filling the air with redolent aromas of cumin and coriander and garam masala, the incessant chatter of people—from vendors to children—touting, bargaining, squealing their delight at a new discovery.
She closed her eyes, opened them, seeing the cosmopolitan city through his eyes as if for the first time, guilt streaking through her that she took this for granted on a daily basis, craving an escape from the chaos.
“This place has a charm all of its own.”
“Like someone else I know,” she muttered, grateful when his somber expression evaporated, his resident mischievous twinkle back.
“Tell me about Goa. What’s it like living here?”
Boring. Humdrum. Monotonous.
But she couldn’t spoil this for him, well aware her circumstances tainted her view of this beautiful city.
“We’re a tourist haven.”
“What else?”
“The beaches are lovely.”
She ventured a standard answer, ever aware of his astute gaze fixed on her, probing for answers she wasn’t willing to give.
“How long have you lived here?”
“My whole life.”
What she remembered of it. She could barely recall her parents, a shimmer of an image clawing at the edges of her memory, that of a petite woman in an emerald sari feeding her laddoos—sweet lentil balls—and a striking man who perched her atop his shoulders.
Then there was nothing, the treasured memory superseded by a young girl barely out of toddlerhood roaming the streets, being rescued by Leela, finally feeling safe after hours—days—of fear.
“Tell me.”
He clasped her hand, pressed it to his lips, the simple action conveying his belief in her, his sincerity in wanting to know more, and before she could second-guess his motivation, she found the words bubbling up from deep within and spilling out like a geyser.
“My folks died in a cholera outbreak when I was three. Leela found me wandering not far from here. I don’t know how long I’d been out there—days and nights blend together when you’re a kid. She saved me. Searched for my parents, arranged their funerals, checked if I had any other relatives, then took me in, raised me.”
His low whistle hissed out through clenched teeth. “Wow, she sounds like some lady.”
No trite apology for her loss, her early years, and she liked that, liked how he didn’t dwell on a time she’d rather forget.
“Aunt Leela is one of a kind.”
And would have a hari-kari-sari fit if she discovered Khushi’s little secret. If she didn’t trust men, Leela didn’t acknowledge the species existed. While she may be over Byron now, she hadn’t seen her aunt show interest in a guy since, not even to ask how she’d enjoyed her infrequent dates.
“I look forward to meeting her.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Why?” He squeezed her hand, his exaggerated wink pacifying the sudden trepidation ripping through her at the thought of Harrison and Leela ever meeting. “Think my charm won’t work on her?”
“What makes you think it’s working on me?”
His laughter washed over her, warm and comforting, beckoning her to snuggle into him and keep him laughing all day. “You’re good for me.”
“Good for a laugh.”
“Good for this.”
He placed her hand against his heart, palm flattened against hard, muscular chest, the steady beat reassuring while her own jackhammered and bucked and created havoc.
“Good for me.”
She caught the serious undercurrent in his tone, slowly raised her gaze to his, blown away by the intensity of emotion there. Heat. Raw need. Blended with a tenderness that made a mockery of her vow to never trust again.
Grateful the rickshaw had stopped, she glanced around. “You know about Baga beach?”
He nodded, sheepish that a ring-in who’d lobbed into town for a week had discovered one of Goa’s best-kept secrets.
“The owner of the hostel I’m staying at clued me in. Said this place was perfect for a date, much quieter than the other beaches.”
“So this is a date? And here I thought I was taking pity on a tourist and showing him around.”
Staring into her eyes, his intent clear, he caressed her cheek with the barest touch.
“We both know today is far more than that.”
“Oh? What is it exactly?”
He paused, his gaze dropping to her lips before it lifted, slowly, maddeningly, his hungry expression leaving her in little doubt he’d resume a very close study of her lips again soon.
“It’s the start of the rest of our lives.”
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