Tiger's Voyage (10 page)

“Are you sure that’s what you want to do right now?”

“Yes. It’s probably for the best.”

“Fine. Then you start.” He folded his arms across his chest. “How do you feel about me?”

I sucked in a breath and muttered, “Well, why don’t we just go ahead and dive right into
that
hornet’s nest? Okay. Open and honest, right?” I tucked my hair behind my ear and sat back in the chair. “Here it is. I rely on you. I like having you around. I feel … more for you than I should. More for you than I want to, which makes me feel incredibly guilty. And Phet said …”

“Go on.”

“Phet said that I’d be happy with either one of you, and that I would soon have to make a choice.”

Kishan grunted and studied me. “Do you
believe
him?”

I twisted my fingers and mumbled, “Yes.”

“Good. I’d like to think I could make you happy. Is it my turn now?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. To be blunt, Kells, I want you. I want to be with you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. But I see how you look at Ren, even now. You still have feelings for him. Strong ones. And I don’t want to be your backup boyfriend. If you choose to be with me, I want it to be because you
love
me. Not because you can’t have
him
.”

He stared at me with his intense golden eyes, and I dropped my gaze under his scrutiny.

“What if it ended up being both?” I asked softly.

“I think I could live with that as long as I had your heart in the end. One more thing …” He picked up my hand between his and traced imaginary lines along the back of it. “If you do choose Ren, it’s okay. The main thing is … I want you to be happy.”

“You mean no more catfights?”

“Ren and I have spent a lot of time together lately,” Kishan shrugged. “He’s forgiven me for Yesubai and for all of the other things I’ve done. If you two end up together, I’ll just have to live with it.”

“He’s right. You
have
changed.”

“I like to think I’ve just become better with age.”

“Well, you have.”

As I stood to leave, Kishan wrapped his hand around my wrist and pulled me back. He trailed his fingers down my bare arm, causing goose bumps to rise.

“That doesn’t mean I’ve given you up, though. I still plan on winning you for myself,
bilauta
.”

He kissed my fingertips before letting me go. I stumbled back and braced myself to have a sit-down with Ren.

The problem was … I couldn’t find him. I searched the pool, the grounds, the kitchen, the music room, the media room, and the library. There was no sign of him. I knocked on his bedroom door.

“Ren? Are you in there?” No answer.

Twisting the knob, I found it unlocked. I sat at his desk. Poems were spread all over, some in English and some in Hindi. A book of Shakespeare quotes was open and flipped upside down. I sank into his leather chair and picked up the page he’d been working on.

Remembering

Where is The X?
A pirate’s treasure lay hidden
But the map is faded
The burned edges charred and unreadable
The chest is buried and locked
And the key is missing
The ship drifts alone
The island is gone
How would he find it?
Unearth the precious charms?
The sun kiss’d jewels Lips of sparkling ruby
Golden-brown doubloons of hair
So much it could spill through his hands
Silken fabrics to wrap around soft pearly skin
A maiden blush of Mandarin garnet
Shining topaz eyes that burn and
pierce like fiery diamonds
A perfume—subtle and clean and enticing
A rich man indeed
If he could but find
The X

I’d just finished reading the poem a second time when it was snatched from my hand.

“I thought you hated my poems. Who invited you in here anyway?” Ren spoke sharply but raised his eyebrow and smirked calculatingly as if he was looking forward to another verbal spat.

I replied, “The door was unlocked. I was looking for you.”

“Well, you found me. What do you want? More poems to burn?”

“No. I told you I won’t burn your poems.”

“Good.” Ren glanced at the poem in his hand and relaxed. “Because this is the first one I’ve been able to write since my liberation.”

“Really? Maybe it’s because Phet got rid of the
PTSD
,” I ventured.

Ren slid the poem into a leather notebook and leaned against the bedpost. “Maybe, but I suspect not.”

“Well, then what got you writing again?”

“Apparently, I have a muse. Now
why
are you in my room?”

“I wanted to talk with you. Clear the air.”

“I see.” He walked along the bed and sat back against the headboard, patting the space next to him. “So sit here and talk.”

“Uh, I don’t think we should be so close.”

“We’ll kill two birds with one stone. I need to test my endurance.” Ren patted the bed again. “Closer, my
subhaga jadugarni
.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “I’m not especially fond of that nickname.”

“Then tell me what else I used to call you.”

“You called me
priya, rajkumari, iadala, priyatama, kamana, sundari
, and most recently,
hridaya patni
.”

Ren stared at me with an unreadable expression. “I … called you all of those names?”

“Yes, and probably a few more that I can’t remember.”

He watched me thoughtfully. Then in a quiet voice said, “Come here.
Please
.”

I obediently walked closer to him. He wrapped his hands around my waist, careful not to touch my bare skin, and lifted me over his body onto the other side of the bed.

“Perhaps I should come up with a new nickname,” Ren suggested.

“Like what? And no
siren
or
witchy woman
kind of name.”

He laughed. “How about
strimani
? It means ‘the best of women’ or ‘a jewel of a woman.’ Is that alright with you?”

“How did you come up with that one?”

“I was recently inspired. So what did you want to talk about?”

“I wanted to get things out in the open, so we are more comfortable around each other. That way we can work together, and things will go smoother.”

“You want to get things out in the open? Like what kinds of things?” Ren studied me intently with his gorgeous blue eyes. Involuntarily, I leaned toward him but caught myself and snapped back, banging my head lightly on the headboard.

“Umm … maybe this isn’t a good idea. It worked with Kishan, but something tells me it’s not going to go so well with you.”

His amused expression quickly faded, and he clenched his jaw. “
What
worked with Kishan?”

“We … talked about our feelings.”

“
And?
What did he say?”

“I’m not sure I should share that with you.”

He growled softly and mumbled something in Hindi. “Okay, Kelsey, you wanted to talk, so talk.”

I sighed and shifted down on the bed, tucking a pillow under my head. It smelled like him: waterfalls and sandalwood trees. I inhaled deeply, smiled involuntarily, and then blushed when I noticed he was watching me curiously.

“What are you doing?”

I stuttered, embarrassed. “If you must know, the pillow smells like you. And I happen to like the way you smell.”

“Really?” He grinned.

“Yes. See? Everything is all out in the open.”

“Everything isn’t out yet. I’ll make you a deal. Tell me what Kishan said, and you can share everything we talk about with him. No secrets.”

I thought about what Kishan’s reaction might be. He’d probably agree with Ren.

“Alright.”

I began hesitantly, slowly warming to the topic. I told Ren all about my discussion with Kishan and left nothing out. It was nice talking to him this way again. I’d always been able to tell him anything, and he still listened as attentively as he used to. I even told him about things he’d missed out on while he was a prisoner, then waited and watched as he processed the information.

I ended by saying, “And as far as you go, I just want to say I’m sorry for yelling at you in the jungle. I know I’ve been a pain to be with lately, and I apologize. I was angry and hurt, and I blamed you.”

“Perhaps I
deserved
the blame.” Ren raised an eyebrow and then his expression changed to a wide grin. “So you’re here to kiss and make up?”

“Uh, try make up.”

“Okay, let me get this straight. Kishan promised not to kiss you until he’s sure we’re over.”

“Yes.”

“Did you ever make any promises to me when we were dating? Like, for example, not kissing other men?”

“I never promised anything about kissing, specifically. But after we were together there was never anyone else I
wanted
to kiss. If I’m being completely honest, there was never anyone before you I wanted to kiss either.”

“Right. Did I ever promise you anything?”

“Yes, but it doesn’t matter anymore, because you’re not the same person.”

“Get it out. I want to know exactly what I’ve done to hurt you, other than the obvious amnesia.”

“Okay.” I blew out a breath. “Do you remember my birthday party?”

“Yes.”

“You gave me socks.”

“Socks?”

“On Valentine’s Day you gave me your mother’s earrings. I told you that you could have given me socks. You said, and I quote, ‘Socks are hardly a romantic gift, Kells.’ On my birthday you said you didn’t care for peaches and cream ice cream, but in Tillamook you chose peaches and cream because you said it smelled like me. You also said you liked Nilima’s perfume better than my natural scent.”

“Is there more?”

“Yes. You told me you’d never dance with Nilima again and when you talk about her it makes me jealous. And, speaking of jealousy, you never get jealous anymore. You used to
always
get jealous, and now you don’t care—not even about Kishan’s flirting. Kishan has been making a play for me since Shangri-la. Normally you would be extremely upset about that. All of this has been bothering me since we’ve been back.

“I told you once that I chose you—not Kishan. But now Phet says I’d be happy with him too and that I will have to make a choice soon. In some ways, that’s nice to know because if I can’t be with you and can’t make you happy, at least I could potentially make
him
happy, though I can’t see
me
being happy without
you
.”

My voice cracked. “And as long as we’re confessing everything … I
love
your poems. They’re more precious to me than anything else I own. And … I miss you. It’s hard and awkward and emotional to be around you and not
be
with you. Oh, and another thing: That song—the one you can’t remember—is one you wrote for me. And I promised … I promised never to leave you again.”

I lowered my gaze and trailed off. When I finally dared to peek through my lashes, I found Ren’s blue eyes watching me intently.

After a moment of deep consideration, he said, “Well, that was quite the confession. I guess that means it’s time for me to share.” He paused briefly. “I only
feel
when you’re around.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, most of the time I feel numb. I only come alive when you’re near me. I can’t play music, read, study, or write unless you’re somewhere nearby. You’re my muse,
strimani
. It seems I don’t have much of a life without you. And because we’re being open, I’ll say that I’m fairly certain I’m falling in love with you again. As for the jealousy, I would say that emotion is definitely making a comeback. I’m sorry for the socks. No one told me we were celebrating until the last minute, and Kishan tossed me the gift, which I now think he might have done on purpose.

“I do like your scent. Now that you mention it, peaches and cream is an apt description. Sorry about the ice cream, but I do like peanut butter–chocolate better. I promise not to dance with Nilima. I think you’re beautiful, and if you don’t believe me you can read my poem again. It was you I was describing. I think you’re interesting, sweet, clever, and compassionate. I even like your temper. I think it’s cute. And if it wouldn’t make me violently ill, I’d be kissing you right now.”

“You would?”

“Yes. I would. Does that about cover everything?”

“Yes,” I whispered quietly.

“Are you sure there’s nothing else I promised you? Is there anything else you’ve been angry about?”

I hesitated. “Yes. There’s one more thing. You promised me once that you’d never leave me.”

“I didn’t have a choice. I was taken. Remember?”

“You chose to stay behind.”

“To save your life.”

“Next time, don’t. I want to stay and fight with you.”

“I don’t think I can promise that one. Your life is more important than my desire to have you around. But I’ll stay with you as long as I can. Is that good enough?”

“That sounds like
Mary Poppins
. You’ll only stay until the wind changes. But I suppose that’s the best I’ll get.”

Ren turned to face me. “There’s one more thing I want out in the open.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“Do you still …
love
me?”

I looked at his handsome face and was overwhelmed with emotion. My eyes filled with tears. I paused only for a heartbeat before nodding once. “Yes, I still love you.”

“Then damn the consequences.” He cupped my chin lightly with a shaky hand and touched his lips to mine. He wrapped his arm around me and drew me over so I was stretched out almost on top of him. He murmured against my lips as he kissed me, pressing his hands against my back. “If I … don’t touch your skin … it’s not that bad.” He trailed brief kisses from my mouth up to my ear.

I tentatively stroked his hair. “Does it hurt if I touch your hair?”

“No.” He smiled and pressed his lips to my T-shirt–covered shoulder.

“Is it worse when I kiss
you
?”

I kissed him at his hairline then moved my lips to his forehead and pressed a couple of light kisses there.