Wild Desire

  He pointed ahead to a row of small buildings covered in yellowed plaster. Not a terribly poor neighborhood, but far from wealthy. The few people still out sweeping the streets didn’t bother to look at them, bent over their tasks of menial servitude.

  “Colin?” Bea whispered, fear heavy in her voice.

  Reluctantly, he met her gaze.

  “What if … what if we’re walking into a trap?”

  What if? He supposed that was always a possibility. But did they have a choice? “We’re fine.”

  “But—”

  “I told the boy we’re married,” he blurted out, mostly to stop her questions, partly because he wanted to see her reaction.

  The shock on her face stung. Would it be so bad to be his bride? God, what was the matter with him? Why did he care?

  “But that’s a lie!”

  He cursed. Even after he had almost died to save her life, she didn’t trust that he knew what was best? There was only so much questioning a man could take. He flexed his jaw. She would trust him. He had a simple task to do. Escort Bea to Bombay. He would not have her questioning him every step. He wouldn’t fail. No, he’d make sure she made it to the port city, so she could sail back to England and marry some dandy.

  “Why?” Bea blinked up at him with wide, guileless eyes.

  He lied, of course. He hadn’t told the lad they were married, but the boy probably assumed it anyway. “It made sense. It’s better for safety, and your reputation.”

  She frowned, but nodded slowly, and he released the breath he didn’t realize he held. She believed him. Frankly, it was true. She would be better protected as his wife but he was certain she’d put up a fuss. Apparently, the woman had a sensible streak after all.

  “Come,” the boy said again, before darting into the doorway of a narrow one-story building.

  “Married,” Bea whispered.

  Colin rubbed the back of his neck. The area was surprisingly quiet. Too quiet. Most of the natives had probably gone farther into the city to protest, the others asleep. Soon they’d be back, and she and Colin would be in danger. Bea glanced at him and he could see the hesitation, the uncertainty in her eyes. The urge to reassure her overwhelmed him.

  “Hell.” He took her hand and pulled her into the house.

  It was a typical Indian abode, with one main room that had a fire pit in the middle. A large colorful rug was spread across the matted floor. In the air hung a mixture of spicy scents, cinnamon and others he couldn’t identify. Two doors interrupted the beige plastered wall along the back. A small home, but suitable and clean.

  The boy raced into one of the back rooms, leaving them to stand there awkwardly alone. Muffled voices whispered through the home, but he couldn’t make sense of the words. Bea stepped up close to him, her body warm against his side. Her eyes were wide as her gaze traveled around the abode.

  He could imagine what she thought. The house he’d leased hadn’t been much better than this. Had her face worn the same look of scorn when she’d entered his home? No doubt she was used to tea in bed, a roaring fire in a marble hearth, servants to wait on her. Things he’d sure as hell never be able to afford.

  “Not exactly a castle,” he murmured, stepping away from her.

  Her brows snapped together. He didn’t know why he felt the need to bait her. Fortunately, the soft sound of shuffling interrupted what would probably escalate into an argument. The boy was back, and at his side stood a tiny woman wearing a brilliant pink sari. Her dark eyes were wide, her tanned face chalky as she stared unblinkingly at him, as if seeing him for the first time.

  Finally, she bowed low and waved them in closer.

  He hesitated, recognizing that look in her eyes, part shock, part horror, part disbelief. How many times had he seen that reaction before? His heart hammered painfully in his chest as he made his way toward the tiny woman.

  Raj started speaking rapidly to his mother, tripping over his words in his haste to explain. Colin was able to pick out only a few meanings but enough to know he was telling his mother exactly what had happened in the alley … every last bit. Colin resisted the urge to slap his palm over the boy’s mouth.

  The woman’s gaze jerked back to him. Too late. He felt the heat starting to make its way up his neck. He prayed to God that Bea didn’t know any Hindi.

  “Miracle,” the mother whispered.

  Colin cringed.

  She didn’t seem to notice his less than thrilled reaction, but started toward him. Without hesitation, she dropped to her knees, soft sobs vibrating around her.

  The heat he’d been trying so desperately to keep at bay rushed to his cheeks. He grabbed the woman’s shoulders and hauled her to her feet. “Please, no. You mustn’t tell anyone.” His gaze flashed to the boy. “You understand?”

  Raj nodded, his eyes solemn. “No tell.”

  “Why can’t they tell?” Bea whispered, edging up closer to him once more.

  He sighed, not daring to look at her as he evaded the truth. “We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”

  “Of course.”

  “Stay,” the woman said, taking Colin’s hand and pulling them farther into the room. “You stay.”

  Colin nodded, knowing it was the most logical thing to do. Hide, and in the early morning, before the sun rose, when the rioters had finally returned to their homes to sleep, they’d escape and meet up with Leo and Ella. How far had they made it down the river? Dear God, he hoped they’d made it, but that boat had looked barely buoyant.

  Bea raced after him. “She wants us to stay … here?”

  “Too good for it?” he snapped. Her question enraged his already frayed nerves. Why the hell did she always have to question his decisions? He knew what he was doing; he was in charge.

  “No. I—”

  “Listen, princess, they barely have enough money to feed themselves and she’s offering to let us stay. I say we take what we can get.”

  Her lips pressed into that thin line, although he wasn’t sure if she was angry or trying not to cry. Immediately, guilt shook its judgmental head. Damn. He shouldn’t have been so harsh on her. But he was tired, he was worried about Leo and Ella, and he didn’t know how the hell he was going to escort Bea to Bombay and keep her safe with what little money he had.

  “We help,” Raj said. “What you need?”

  To rest. To sleep for two days straight. “We’ll stay here.” Colin pointed to the house. “Tomorrow we leave, early, before the sun rises. When it’s safe.”

  The boy nodded in understanding. He hoped the boy understood.

  “Come, come.” The woman latched on to his arm and pulled him toward a back room.

  “Where are you going?” Bea demanded, her voice hard with fear.

  He glanced at her and shrugged. She stood in the middle of the room, looking so out of place he wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or groan. They’d never make it across the country without being noticed.

  “Baby. Sick,” Raj said.

  Colin resisted the urge to sigh. He should have known he wouldn’t be able to rest.

  Without a word of explanation to Bea, he ducked under the overhang and entered the room. It was dark and dank but he could just make out a tiny form huddled on a mat in the corner. A weak gasp disturbed the room, and then a hacking cough that belied the tininess of the child. His feet crunched over reed mats. Sickness hung heavy and bitter in the air, making his stomach churn. He moved aside a curtain to allow a shaft of moonlight to enter. Light didn’t make the situation any better.

  “What do we have here?” He knelt by the mat that made a tiny bed and studied the child’s face, too gaunt for a baby. She should have been rosy and round. Her dark, wavy hair contrasted against the paleness of her skin. So small, so weak. Too weak for this world. She’d probably die from another illness a year or so from now, but at least he could give her a chance … a chance to cheat death.

  He glanced over his shoulder. The mother and son hovered in the doorway. “Go,
” he demanded.

  The boy scurried from the room. The mother hesitated only a moment then also turned, and in a swoosh of silky pink, she left. She knew she had no choice but to trust him. He was her only option, a stranger, a foreign man. He wasn’t sure if he could do the same. But he supposed if it was his child and a stranger was his only choice …

  The pale moonlight coming from the open window marked the floor with a mystical light that only added to the oddness of the situation. The adjoining room was silent. He could imagine Bea wondering over his sudden disappearance. Wondering what the hell he was doing.

  With a sigh, he sank onto the dirt floor. The child opened her eyes as if she sensed him. She didn’t whimper, she didn’t smile, but looked at him with solemn eyes that said she’d accepted her fate long ago. Well, fate be damned.

  He settled his palms on her frail body, one on the crown of her head and the other on her sunken belly. She grew still almost immediately, instinctively trusting. Her skin was warm, too warm to live. She’d not last the week if he didn’t help her now.

  “Come on, darlin’, you can live.” He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Silence settled around him, seeping deep inside … into his very soul. He used the silence to his advantage, a way to calm his racing heart. He knew enough to know the silence wouldn’t last.

  The hum started almost immediately, a hum that pulsed in his body and vibrated his soul. Heat spiraled in the core of his being, spreading its blistering fingers toward his limbs, farther to his palms until they buzzed. He knew what would come, but it didn’t make it any easier.

  White heat burst through his body, singeing his cells. Colin gritted his teeth to keep from crying out. His back arched of its own accord. It felt as if the entire universe poured through him, too much power, too much energy. He floated on a cloud of pain, unaware of anything but the white light and the heat.

  Just as quickly as the power had come, in a roar it pulled back, sweeping from his form and taking with any strength he possessed. Colin collapsed onto the floor, the side of his face pressed to the reed mats. The child was more dead than he’d realized, practically gone, and healing her had taken more energy than he’d used in awhile. Not since last year when he’d saved Ella had he used his powers so thoroughly.

  “Colin?” Bea’s soft voice entered his muddled mind, a call from a siren he was unable to resist.

  Slowly, his lashes lifted and he stared into her eerie amber eyes. How much had she seen? She knelt beside him, and settled a lamp at her feet, the light highlighting the worry etched across her pale face. Her hands lifted, she hesitated a moment, then swept her fingers up and down his body, apparently looking for signs of injury.

  “Are you all right? What happened? Where are you hurt?” Her fingers were like heaven, soft and caring. When was the last time someone had cared about his well-being? Damn, but in his exhausted state, he liked her attention much more than he wanted to admit.

  “I’m … I’m fine.” He pushed himself onto his elbows. The room spun. “The girl, how is she?”

  Bea turned her head toward the bed. “She … well, she’s fine. Why?” Her gaze rested on him, her brows drawn together in confusion.

  Colin turned his head, needing to see for himself. The child was sitting up, a mound of blankets around her tiny form, her wide eyes pinned to him. It had worked, but then, it usually did.

  “Sir,” Raj called from the door. “Good?”

  Colin nodded him in. “Good.”

  The boy turned and spoke to his mother. The woman cried out and raced into the room, a blur of brilliant pink. She collapsed onto the bed and scooped the child into her arms. Great wrenching sobs broke from her lips, and damn, if his cold heart didn’t melt slightly.

  It was worth it, he supposed. Worth the pain and exhaustion even if the child didn’t make it to her next birthday, worth it to see the mother so happy and to see the child so well.

  “Colin,” Bea whispered, slipping her arm around his waist and helping him to his feet.

  The sweet scent of clover and heather tempted him, brought him back to the conscious world when all he wanted to do was fade from existence. Colin breathed deep and resisted the urge to sink into her, knowing she couldn’t handle all of his weight.

  “What’s happened? I don’t understand. They said she was sick.”

  “She was.”

  “And you …” She glanced back at the child. “You healed her somehow? Are you a doctor then?”

  He laughed and slumped into her, his knees going weak. Damn, he shouldn’t have drunk last night. That combined with the day’s excitement and he needed rest and time to recuperate before he fainted like a debutant at her first ball.

  “Rest,” the boy said, as if reading his mind. “Come, rest.”

  The mother nodded, still holding her child so close, Colin was sure she wouldn’t release her for hours. Colin and Bea followed the boy into the next room, where a typical native bed occupied most of the room.

  “You stay here.”

  Colin nodded and slumped onto the bed, the bamboo frame groaning. “We need to leave in a few hours, you understand? Early, before the city wakes.”

  The boy nodded. “You safe. Here.”

  Colin closed his eyes, giving in to temptation. “I understand, right.”

  The soft retreat of footsteps told him the boy had left, but he knew Bea still stood there. He could smell her, sense her. The side of the bed sank. Why was it, despite his fatigue, his nerves sparked at her mere presence? He willed her to come to him. Pretending to be her husband could have its advantages.

  “Colin, I …”

  He rested his hand on hers, her fingers soft and warm. “Bea, get some sleep. You’re going to need it for tomorrow.”

  “But …”

  He opened his eyes and studied her drawn face. “I’m serious. No questions, no doubt. Just sleep. Tomorrow we travel.”

  “But what if the rioters come? What if they tell them we’re here?”

  His lashes weighed heavy and he closed his eyes. He supposed it could happen, but what choice did they have? “They won’t. Now sleep.”

  She was silent for a moment. “Where?”

  He patted the spot next to him, too exhausted to do more than that.

  “I can’t … I …”

  He sighed long and loud. “Bea, just get in the damn bed.”

  He rolled onto his side, his back to her. How badly he wanted to drift off, but he couldn’t until he knew she slept. Finally, the mat sank farther as she lay beside him. She was stiff, inches away. He could still feel her heat, though. Damn, the woman was starting to grow on him. Moments later, she wiggled back just enough so that her back pressed to his. For the first time in a long while, Colin fell asleep with a smile on his lips.

  Chapter 8

  The sound of movement and muffled voices interrupted the silence of dawn. But Colin didn’t want to wake; his body screamed for more rest. His back was warm and the sweet scent of clover hovered in the air like an elusive, erotic dream. He nestled closer to that soft warmth, but the noise was persistent and sleep finally surrendered to life. Slowly, he turned. The moonlight filtered through the window, bathing Bea in its soft glow. A goddess dropped to earth.

  For a moment he thought he dreamt. Her hands were tucked under her face, her lips parted, and her breathing deep and even. In slumber, she looked at peace, she looked young and innocent. She looked … ethereal.

  He’d never really gotten a chance to study the woman. Always going, always running since they’d met. Now, in this moment, with gray dawn threatening through the wooden shutters, he had time to truly look at her.

  A perfect goddess but for the slight bump on the bridge of her nose. An imperfection so insignificant that a passing stranger would never notice and, if he did, would probably only say it added character. But most likely a stranger would focus only on her lush lips. At ease and parted, those lips were full, and a deep rose in color. Perfect for kissing. Worthy of
worship.

  The thought of pressing his mouth to hers flitted through his mind. He pushed the thought aside just as quickly as it entered, and he continued to study her face, looking for something, anything, to dissuade his lusty thoughts. Her chin was pointed and her eyes, which were turned up ever so slightly at the ends, were surrounded by thick, dark lashes.

  But it was her hair, really, her hair that he supposed most woman would envy. Dark in color, it fell in soft waves around her face, down her back, and over her shoulders. Giving in to temptation, he reached for one of those curls. Silky smooth.

  A pot clanged in the next room and Colin paused, the lock still wrapped around his finger. Bea’s brows drew together, and with a soft sigh, she turned her head slightly. A scar flashed across her lower cheek, back by her ear. So she wasn’t perfect after all.

  Briefly he wondered how she’d gotten the scar, and it wasn’t the only thing he wanted to discover. It was a known truth, he was addicted to uncovering treasure, and his mind spun with the prospect of uncovering her secrets. Why now? After everything that had happened with Sarah? Bea annoyed him, this proper Englishwoman. Exhaustion and the magic of morning, it was the only explanation for his sudden fascination. That and the fact that sharing a bed with a beautiful woman had made his body as hard as the earth in India.

  A dry cough escaped her lips. Colin frowned, pushing himself up on his elbows, his lust momentarily forgotten as a surge of concern flared through his body. Her lashes fluttered as her mind began to wake. He knew the moment she opened those eyes, a reserved wall would cover any of her innocence. Against his wishes, those thick lashes lifted. The color of her eyes still startled him so much so that he sucked in a sharp breath. Amber, mixed with melted gold, they practically glowed. Her gaze found him and the drowsiness fled.

  The left corner of his lips lifted. “Morning, princess.”

  “I … I fell asleep.” The huskiness of her tone sent heat through his body, making his already hard member pulse to life.

  He sat up, cringing slightly, his body uncomfortably needy. “You didn’t mean to?”