Tiger's Voyage
Kishan replied, “Sounds fun.”
“What kind of shopping?” I asked.
Ren shrugged. “Window shopping if you want, though most of the markets are open air.”
“I would like to send something to Mike, Sarah, and the kids, and also to Jennifer from wushu class,” I said, feeling a twinge of guilt for not being able to keep in better touch.
“We can arrange that. Nilima will make sure that whatever you choose gets routed to them and can’t be traced back to us. She sends our mail to contacts in other countries. They mail it to other destinations in America. Then it gets boxed and shipped again. It’s a complex system.”
“Lokesh sure has complicated our lives, hasn’t he?”
“This time we’ll beat him. We’ll be more prepared,” Kishan declared.
I shuddered, and both men took a step closer to me. Trying to lighten the mood, I asked, “Want to watch a movie? I think it’s time I introduced you tigers to Jaws. You both need a healthy dose of the ocean jitters, so I’m not the only one afraid to go in the water.”
Jaws was followed by Jaws 2. Both Ren and Kishan agreed that the first one was better, despite the old-time special effects. Unfortunately, they still scoffed at my fears. I guess being predators themselves made them less afraid of other predators.
We joined Mr. Kadam and Nilima at the outdoor dining area where a seafood buffet awaited: candied teriyaki salmon drizzled with scallion butter, honey-orange scallops, crunchy shrimp with spicy cocktail dip, lobster-stuffed mushrooms, crab cakes with lemon cream sauce, salad, rolls, and virgin mango berry daiquiris. I took a seat at the lovely polished table. The sun was hot, and I appreciated the shady canopy that had been rolled out to cover us.
I was full after one plate, but the brothers went back several times. After teasing them about leaving some for the staff, I headed back to my room and soaked in the Jacuzzi until my fingers wrinkled. When I got out, I wrapped my body in the robe Kishan had given me for my birthday and brushed my hair. On my pillow, I found a poem.
The Sea Hath Its Pearls
Heinrich Heine
(English translation by
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)
The sea hath its pearls,
The heaven hath its stars;
But my heart, my heart,
My heart hath its love.
Great are the sea, and the heaven;
Yet greater is my heart,
And fairer than pearls or stars
Flashes and beams my love.
Thou little, youthful maiden,
Come unto my great heart;
My heart, and the sea and the heaven
Are melting away with love!
A noise startled me during my second read of the poem. I jumped off the bed, spun around, and found Ren grinning and leaning against the frame of a door I hadn’t opened yet.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to appreciate the view.” He stepped closer and took the poem from my hand. “Do you like it?”
“Yes.”
He put his arm around my waist and dragged me closer. He kissed my robe-clad shoulder and inhaled. “You smell delicious.”
“Thank you. You don’t smell bad yourself. What’s through there? Where did you come from?”
“My room. Want to see?”
I nodded, and he steered me toward his room with a hand at the small of my back. The room looked similar to Kishan’s.
“We have a connecting door?”
He grinned. “Yes.”
“Did Kishan know about this before you made the room assignments?”
“Yes.”
“Huh. I’m surprised he let you take it.”
Ren frowned. “We originally thought Nilima or Mr. Kadam should have it, but we both felt it would be better if you had a tiger close by. We fought over who would take it, but I won out in the end.” He scowled and mumbled, “Mostly because Kishan knows I can’t touch you anyway.”
I stifled a laugh and said, “I would have liked to have been a fly on the wall for that conversation.”
“My room is nice, but I was kind of hoping I wouldn’t have to use it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was thinking that maybe I could sleep with you. As a tiger, I mean.”
I quirked an eyebrow and laughed. “Can’t get enough of my snoring, huh?”
“You don’t snore, and I like being near you. Plus, you’re nice to wake up to in the morning—not that you aren’t nice to have around now.” Ren pulled me against him. “Have I told you lately that you’re beautiful?”
I smiled, stretched out my hand, and brushed the hair away from his eyes, letting the silky strands twine between my fingers. He dipped his forehead to touch mine, but after several seconds, he moved away. Ren’s face had paled and his eyes were closed. I squeezed his arm before stepping back.
“I’m alright, just give me a minute.”
“You recover, while I change,” I said and pushed him back into his room, closing the door behind me. I put on my silky Indian pajamas and then reopened our adjoining door.
Ren let his gaze trail lazily down my body and grunted in appreciation. “Those pajamas are very nice, but I like the robe better.”
“You should have seen the original robe in Shangri-la. I’m not surprised you like the pajamas. You gave them to me, you know.”
“I did? When?”
“Before we went to the cave to get the prophecy.”
“Hmm. I obviously had designs on you already at that point.”
“You told me you started having feelings for me even back at the circus.” I walked to the bed, pulled back the covers, and turned around. Ren was right behind me.
“Aren’t you feeling sick?”
“Mildly. But being close to you, especially when you’re wrapped in silk, is worth it.”
I grinned lopsidedly, and he opened his arms. After a brief hesitation, I stepped into his embrace and pressed my cheek against his shirt. He hugged me tightly as he ran his hands up and down my back.
“This is nice,” he said.
“It is. It’s just way too brief.”
“Come on. I’ll tuck you in.”
As I slid between the sheets, he pulled the comforter lower and covered me with my quilt instead. “How did you know that’s the way I like to sleep?” I asked.
“I pay attention. You love this old quilt.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Goodnight, iadala.”
“Goodnight, Ren.”
He turned off the light and settled himself somewhere in the room. I had a hard time falling asleep because of the movement of the ship and being in a new environment. I couldn’t consciously feel it move. It wasn’t like being on a jet boat, but it still threw off my equilibrium. Half an hour later, I leaned over the side of my bed and stretched out my hand.
“Ren? Where are you?”
A nose pressed against my palm.
“I can’t sleep. The boat’s moving too much.”
He moved away. I listened for him, but he moved too quietly over the thick carpet. Suddenly, the bed dipped heavily behind me as Ren’s furry tiger form settled on it. I rolled over to face him and sighed happily. He started to purr.
“Thanks.”
Scooting closer I buried my face in his soft neck fur. I stroked his side until I fell asleep with my arm draped over his chest.
When I woke the next morning, my head was resting on Ren’s white shirt, and my arm was draped over his stomach. His arm was wrapped around me, and he was playing with my hair. I tried to move away, but he pulled me back.
“It’s okay. I’ve been a man for only a minute. The pain isn’t bad yet. I haven’t touched your skin.”
“Oh. Hey, the boat’s not moving.”
“We docked several hours ago.”
“What time is it?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe 6:30. It’s dawn. Look.”
I peered out the window at t
he pink sky. We were docked near a large city. Tall palm trees thickly lined the golden sandy beaches that were empty of even the most dedicated sunbathers. Nestled among the trees were large, curved, white hotels, and behind those, the tops of other buildings were just visible through the trees. The early-morning quiet was peaceful. It looked like paradise.
“That’s Goa?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Ren’s fingers stroked through my hair, and I relished the touch.
“You used to do that all the time.”
Ren laughed. “I imagine I did. I love your hair.”
“Really? It’s just plain old boring brown. Nothing special. Nilima’s got beautiful hair. Ebony. Very exotic.”
“I like yours. Curled, straight, wavy, up, down, braided.”
“You like it braided?”
“I like playing with the ribbons, and every time you wear braids I’m tempted to undo them.”
I laughed. “Ah, now that makes sense. On several occasions, you tugged the ribbons out of my hair and pulled out my braids. Now I know why. You have a braid fetish.”
Ren smiled and kissed my forehead. “Maybe I do. Are you ready to go shopping?”
I sighed against his chest. “I’d rather stay here and snuggle with you.”
“I knew there was a reason I liked you.” He pressed me close and hugged me. “Unfortunately, I’m starting to feel the effects of snuggling.”
“Okay.”
Ren slid out of bed, walked to his room, and turned. Leaning against the doorjamb, he sighed. “I think the universe is conspiring against me.”
“How so?” I stretched and rolled over to look at him while bunching my pillow under my cheek.
“Because I can enjoy your warm, beautiful self, all sleepy and cuddly in silky pajamas only from a distance. Do you have any idea how extremely tempting you are? I am very, very glad that Kishan’s door is not connected to yours.”
I laughed. “You are one dangerous, smooth-talking man, my friend. But I’ve known that for a while, and I like that about you. Now go get dressed. I’ll meet you at breakfast.”
He grinned and shut the door behind him.
After breakfast, Ren and Kishan led me down to the dry garage. Automatically, I opened the door to the Jeep.
Kishan stopped me. “We’re not going in the Jeep.”
“We’re not? Then how are we getting to town? Walking?”
“No,” Ren said. “We’re taking these.” He lifted a tarp to uncover two powerful racing motorcycles.
I backed away a step. “And, uh, do you guys know how to ride those? They look … dangerous.”
Kishan laughed. “They are. The motorcycle, and this one in particular, is one of the best things about this century, Kells. We bought these six months ago, shortly after you left for Oregon and we do know how to ride them.”
Ren pushed his bike out of the boat’s garage. It was sleek and tricked out like something from a James Bond film. I saw the brand name Ducati on the side. Ren’s was cobalt blue, and Kishan’s was bright red.
“I’ve never heard of Ducati.”
“Ducati motorcycles?” Ren responded. “They’re Italian. They came with the jackets.”
I snorted. “I bet they did. They’re probably the most expensive motorcycles in the world. A Ducati is probably to a motorcycle as a Ferrari is to a sedan.”
“You’re exaggerating, Kells.”
“I don’t think so. Have you guys even heard of the word budget?”
Kishan shrugged. “We lived with nothing for centuries. Time to make up for it.”
He had a point, so I let it go. A pair of black leather jackets with racing stripes in red and blue were lifted from a cabinet. Kishan tossed me yet another jacket. “Here. Kadam had this one made especially for you. It should fit.”
I shrugged into the jacket, but protested, “There’s no room for me on the bike anyway, so maybe you guys better go by yourselves.”
“Sure there is,” Ren replied as he zipped up his jacket.
Wow. I didn’t think it was possible for him to look any more intoxicating than he already did. But a leather-clad Ren, helmet in hand, standing next to the gorgeous racing motorcycle made my brain go numb. It was a this-is-your-brain-on-drugs moment. Well, a this-is-your-brain-on-seeing-Ren-in-tight-leather moment anyway. If the Ducati Company was smart, they would have used him in a commercial and given him the bikes for free.
Ren popped the back cover off his bike to reveal a hidden seat. “See?”
He handed me a black helmet while I stared at him.
Kishan cleared his throat. “I think Kelsey needs to ride with me.”
Ren stiffened. “I don’t think so.”
“Be reasonable. You’ll get sick, have an accident, and she’ll get hurt.”
Ren clenched his jaw. “It will be fine. I can control it.”
“I won’t let you take that risk with her, and if you would stop being jealous for a minute, you’d agree with me.”
“He’s right, Ren,” I interjected and touched his leather sleeve regretfully. “I’m scared enough of these machines without worrying if you’re going to get sick. I’ll go with Kishan.”
Ren sighed with frustration. “Fine.” He touched my cheek briefly, smiled wistfully, and then helped me put on my helmet, whispering, “Hold on tight. Kishan likes to take curves at deep angles.”
Kishan popped the back piece off his bike and helped me to straddle the bike. Then he swung on and pulled on his helmet. “Are you ready?”
“I guess.”
“Hold on to me and lean when I do.”
I wrapped my arms around Kishan, clutching him for dear life while he balanced us and kick-started the bike. It roared to life, followed by Ren’s. He rolled up to us, frowned at Kishan, and then looked at me. I could tell he was smiling from the crinkling around his eyes.
Ren took off first, heading down the ramp and skidding into a sharp ninety-degree turn before accelerating down the dock at breakneck speed. Kishan followed at a reasonable speed.
Once we had a straight shot down the dock, he sped up and chased Ren toward the town. I was nervous at first, mentally ticking off a list of all the possible ways I could die while joyriding on a motorcycle, but then I relaxed and started to have fun. Kishan was very skilled and was obviously holding back to make me feel more comfortable. Ren slowed down to keep pace with us, and we rode through town slowly enough that I could get a good feel for its layout.
By the time we’d been through most of the town, I was itching for more speed. Huh. Apparently, I’m a motorcycle junkie. It made me feel powerful and free, and I wanted to go faster. We stopped at the edge of town, and I asked Kishan if there was a place we could race. Ren pulled up near us so the brothers could confer. They agreed to race, but both insisted that we not do anything too dangerous. Thanks to the curse, they could heal quickly, but I couldn’t, and neither wanted to risk hurting me.
We rode out of town to an area with miles of deserted dirt roads. Ren scoped out the path ahead and came back to warn us that there were a few small jumps and turns. The brothers lined up their bikes, revved their engines, and Ren gave the signal to go.
Ren got ahead of us quickly, probably because Kishan was being more cautious with me, and the extra weight of two people was slowing him down.
I yelled, “Faster!” and heard Kishan laugh as he twisted the accelerator for more speed. We came upon the first hill that shot us into the air for a few seconds. We landed hard just before a turn appeared. Kishan leaned into it. I leaned too and edged closer to him, linking my hands around his waist. He accelerated again, and we drew closer to Ren who took a jump so fast he almost lost control of the bike and wiped out—but he somehow righted himself and kept going.
As Kishan and I came to the same jump, he sped up at the last second. We flew on some good air and touched down, back wheel before the front. I laughed out loud. We immediately dipped into a right turn before accelerating again. When we got to the end of the road, we ro
lled to a stop next to Ren, who was leaning against his bike, looking quite nonchalant.
Kishan and I got off the bike too and removed our helmets. I grabbed Kishan in a hug and blurted out all at once, “That was so fun! You’re really good! I wasn’t scared at all. Thank you!”
He hugged me back. “Anytime, Kells.”
Ren scowled. “I’m hungry. Let’s get lunch and shop in the market.”
We sped quickly back to town and parked the bikes outside a large market. Several people stopped to watch us. I would have stopped too if I saw two gorgeous, leather-clad men with beautiful motorcycles. They looked like movie stars.
We went to an outdoor stand where we bought barbeque wraps. Mine was spicy chicken tikka wrapped in an Indian flat bread called paratha. Even though Kishan asked them to make mine less spicy, it was still really hot. My mouth was on fire. We sipped on fruited lemonades to cut the heat. After that, we walked the markets.
I bought dangly golden earrings for Jennifer, a box of assorted incense and a marble incense stand for Mike and Sarah. It was shaped like a dragon. An incense stick poked through its nose so it looked like it breathed fire. For Sammy and Rebecca, we picked out a hand-carved wooden toy collection with soldiers, battle elephants, camels, horsedrawn chariots, and a royal family all painted in bright vivid colors. Kishan insisted we add a second prince. Ren rolled his eyes, but I laughed and let him pick another one. Ren spoke with the salesperson about having our purchases sent to the ship.
Next, we visited a store with beach toys and attire. I stopped short in front of several racks of women’s swimsuits.
“I forgot to pack my bathing suit. It’s hanging over the shower back at the house.”
Ren walked over to the rack. “Let’s get you a new one, then.”
I leaned in to whisper, “Can’t we just have the Scarf make one?”
“We could, but whenever a material has synthetic elements like spandex, for example, the Scarf substitutes natural materials. Your swimsuit might end up being made of thin cotton, which I am totally willing to let happen.” Ren winked and grinned rakishly.