One Indian Summer

[Dark Saint Alaick]

One Indian Summer

(A Novel from Mills and Boon)

by Nicola Marsh

http://myhindiforum.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=15768&stc=1&d=1334606784


Once upon a time in Goa, a lovely maid dreamed of finding romance and adventure, just like in her beloved Bollywood films….

Khushi longs to escape the boredom of her life as a hotel housekeeper, but she learned long ago never to believe in dreams. So when she stumbles—literally!—upon a handsome Australian tourist with flashing eyes and a way with words, she knows the sparks between them can come to nothing.

With one week left in his yearlong tour of India, Harrison Rayne is not looking for romance. But he can’t deny the special connection he feels to the beautiful Khushi, and soon he knows they are meant to be together forever! Can he convince her that love at first sight happens in real life, too?

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Chapter One


Khushi craved a great love, a grand love, a gargantuan love.

Big and bold and breathtaking.

A tumultuous love affair like those depicted in her favourite Bollywood movies, ending with a fabled happily-ever-after that would sweep her away from housekeeping at Goa’s Sumukhi Hotel.

So far, her cravings for love had yielded nada.

No travel to exotic destinations—she discounted the day trip to Mumbai for work training purposes.

No danger-fraught adventures—getting caught in a fishing net and almost drowning off Candolim Beach was as dangerous as petting a defanged cobra.

As for a great love? The pathetic pining of the local dhobi—the guy who did Aunt Leela’s laundry—definitely didn’t do it for her.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Not that she’d know what to do if love jumped up and smacked her on the nose. Love involved trust and she’d tried trusting a male before. It was highly overrated.

“It’s a crock,” she mumbled, trudging along Colva Beach, oblivious to the children building sand castles, the tourists splashing in the waves, the mouthwatering aromas of food vendors cooking sizzling prawns drenched in spicy masala.

She took this same route home every day and while she usually had a ready smile for the scruffy kids and stopped for a delicious seafood snack on occasion, today wasn’t one of those days. Today, she’d been promoted. To Housekeeping Manager. She should be ecstatic, proud. Instead, as hot sand insinuated its way between her toes—grainy, annoying—all she felt was the vise of predictability closing around her, squeezing the life out of every secret dream she’d ever had.

Hating the sting of futile tears, she deviated toward the shallows, eager to feel the soothing wash of warm Arabian Sea on her weary feet. Aunt Leela had this crazy notion that the feet centered the body. If your feet were happy, so were you. Yeah, right. If that were true, foot models would be in permanent nirvana and podiatrists gods. She’d grown up with Leela’s whacky beliefs, absorbed them, which probably explained why right now her feet burned and she was more disgruntled than ever.

Dreams were fruitless.

Dreams were bunkum.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

And at that exact moment, she stumbled into one.

Against one, more precisely. As her feet tangled, she staggered and he caught her, straightened her, bamboozled her with a flash of mischief in ocean-blue eyes and a smile ripped straight from the sexiest screen hero.

“You okay?”

She nodded, her tongue ratcheted to the roof of her mouth as he held her, his hands warm, firm, solidly comforting where they gripped her upper arms.

“Good. Wouldn’t want you falling at my feet.”

He was teasing her, dimples creasing his cheeks, bracketing that wicked smile, accentuating the laughter lines fanning from his eyes. Eyes that sparkled in jest yet hinted at something deeper, darker. Disappointments, loss, pain.

She could relate, could match him, could raise him a lost family, a lost childhood.

“No chance of that.”

“You sure?”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“Positive.”

“Too bad.”

He squeezed her arms, released her and she mentally held up a big, fat L against her forehead as her body swayed toward him.

“I kinda like the thought of a beautiful woman falling at my feet.”

“Kinda?”

He laughed, a deep, rich ripple that warmed her better than the relentless Indian sun. “Aussie speak for, ‘I would like it very much if a beautiful woman such as yourself would fall at my feet.’ Better?”

Her lips curved into a smile of their own volition at his fake posh accent, his exaggerated formality, while her inner vain girl—the one who never got to buy new clothes or preen in fancy shoes or go dancing with a handsome stranger until the wee hours—twirled and pranced with her arms overhead at his calling her beautiful.

This was crazy. Her love of films, her desire for adventure, was tainting a chance encounter. So what if the guy was movie-star handsome? So what if he was suave and charming? So what if he stared at her as if he’d discovered the Koh-I-Noor diamond? It meant nothing, a pleasant hiccup in an otherwise dull day.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

She should shrug off his glib compliments, forget those flashing eyes and head home.

But as she willed her legs to move, tried to wrench her gaze away from his, she knew it was a lie. All of it.

She could downplay their connection all she liked but there was something between them. She could feel it. Invisible. Intangible. A tenuous binding, an underlying buzz, a type of connection she’d never experienced with a man before.

Passion on the big screen was bold, fierce, ardent. And while she wasn’t foolish enough to imagine anything so intense happening with this attractive stranger, she couldn’t walk away.

Every cell in her body tingled, the same way they had when she’d been a naive seven-year-old dancing in a thunderstorm beneath a palm tree that had been struck by lightning. She’d only suffered a mild shock but she had that same, scary feeling now. Her body hummed, static electricity zapped her skin and every sense quivered on heightened awareness.

The danger of that storm had passed but the longer she stood here, the more she knew that the lightning jolt would have nothing on the potential threat this man posed.

“I have to go.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“Don’t.”

His hand shot out, grabbed hers and she gaped like an ingenue, torn between outrage and excitement. Excitement that grew, expanded, taunting her to stand here and hold hands with a gorgeous guy, urging her to savor this transient encounter for what it was worth: a small, illicit taste of sensual adventure she secretly craved.

Since when had she held hands with a man, let alone someone like this? Tall, tanned, broad-shouldered, wind-ruffled hair the color of cumin, twinkling blue eyes that rivaled the sea for clarity and luminescence, and that slow, **** drawl.

She stared at their linked hands, his fingers long and tanned yet paler against her dark olive skin, intertwined with hers as if they fit, as if they were meant to be and she didn’t know what terrified her more: how right this felt or how wrong it would be to let go.

“I don’t even know you.”

Liar, her body taunted, softly insidious. She knew him on an instinctual level, a shiver of precognition crawling up her spine, as if they’d been predestined to meet.

He sensed her urge to run and tightened his grip. “Easily remedied. Harrison Rayne, intrepid Aussie traveler, backpacking around India, spending my last week here in Goa.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

He paused, leaned in and she slammed her eyes shut, not wanting him to see how his proximity affected her, how she yearned to lean in to him and...

“Spending my last week here in Goa. With you. Miss...?”

“Khushi.”

As her head spun, she dragged in a lungful of air, two, desperate to clear her head, think logically. Impossible, as a tantalizing blend of sun and sea and appealing Aussie male filled her senses, tempting her to have that decadent adventure she so desperately craved.

“What do you reckon?”

This was wrong.

He was wrong.

Wrong for her in every way.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

There was no future with a foreigner, especially one leaving Goa in a week. There was no point in starting something she couldn’t finish. There was no point in living out her dream only to have it end a nightmare.

Yet the instant her eyes cranked open, locked onto his mesmerizing stare, she knew that all the protestations in the world were useless against the kind of karmic connection they shared.

Her feet had tangled with his.

Her destiny had entwined with his.

Maybe there was something to Aunt Leela’s claptrap after all?

“Can I see you again. Tomorrow?”

He wouldn’t take no for an answer, not that she’d exactly told him no yet. The word hovered on the tip of her tongue, hung there, ready to spill out.

Instead, she found herself nodding, albeit reluctantly, enthralled by the sudden flare of possessive heat in his eyes, eager for the first time in forever for tomorrow to arrive.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Chapter Two


Harrison watched Khushi stroll away, thoroughly confused.

He’d spent fifty-one weeks backpacking around this intriguing, mystical country, had met people from all castes, had flirted with women rivaling the most stunning film stars in beauty, yet nothing or no one had unsettled him as much as this chance encounter.

What was it about the mysterious Khushi that was so special?

Sure, she was pretty, with her waist-length black hair, shy smile, golden eyes. Eyes the unusual color of polished topaz he’d seen in many bazaars, an exotic blend of ochre and saffron, the colors of a parched outback he’d been lucky to see as a child. Before he’d lost his parents, before he’d lost everything.

She glanced over her shoulder, her smile tremulous, and he experienced the same stab of something undefinable, something powerful, something altogether frightening, as he had when their legs had tangled and she’d first glanced up at him.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

He’d never been in love, never trusted the emotion, so what was this strange hollow-bellied, throat-clenching lack of control filling him with elation tinged with fear?

He waved, buoyed by hope when she waved back, a quick lift of her hand before she picked up the pace and scurried away.

She was scared of him.

Not scared exactly, wary. Reserved. Like she wasn’t used to strangers tripping over her in the shallows of Colva Beach. Probably not a bad thing. Her reserve was part of her allure, tempting him to discover everything he could about her.

The wind picked up as dusk settled over the beach like a rippling mauve cloak, teasing the edges of her salwaar kameez, ruffling the long, elegant tunic, the edges of her loose pants.

Like any red-blooded teenage boy, he’d seen his fair share of naked women in magazines, but there was something so much more seductive, ****, in the “more is less” theory subscribed to by the elegant women of this continent.

He continued to watch her until she reached the end of the beach and stepped off the sand onto the footpath. Before she disappeared from sight he willed her to look back again, fervently wishing for it the same way he’d wished for life in hospital all those years ago.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

http://myhindiforum.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=15769&stc=1&d=1334607036

He’d almost given up hope when she paused, glanced over her shoulder, and jubilation jived through him.

While he couldn’t see her face at this distance, he knew it wore the same goofy, starstruck expression as his. The mysterious Khushi may appear wary and reserved, but he’d seen the spark in her golden eyes, felt the flare of awareness arcing between them.

They shared a connection.

They shared a bond.

Over the following week, he intended on sharing a lot more.

***

“You’re late.”

“Sorry, Auntie.”

Khushi washed her hands under the kitchen tap, wiped them on her apron as she briskly tied the strings and joined Leela at the bench.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“Everything all right?”

“Of course.”

Her response came out too quickly, too sharply, instantly piquing her aunt’s interest.

“What happened?”

I met someone. I want to have a little adventure for once in my life. I fell a little bit in love.

She couldn’t say any of those things, especially the latter. They didn’t talk of love in this house. Not anymore.

“I got a promotion.”

Leela stopped, spatula in midair as a chapati sizzled and hissed in the pan. “That’s wonderful, my girl. Why didn’t you say so the minute you walked in?”

Because she had other things on her mind: eyes the same startling blue as her favorite comforter, a smile that could melt the wariest heart, dimples she could drown in given half a chance.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Her aunt thumped the spatula against the side of the frying pan. “I knew something good must’ve happened. You’re glowing.”

A guilty blush joined her apparent glow as she picked up a rolling pin, threw a ball of dough on the wooden board and started the familiar, soothing action of transforming the dough into flat bread for frying.

“My hours will probably change.”

“No matter, I can take care of things here.”

Khushi stifled a cough. Her aunt lived for “taking care” of things. Once the initial shock of Byron’s defection had worn off, she’d thrown herself into housework as if a maharaja would deign to visit them daily. She polished pans, dusted furniture, swept floors and cooked feasts fit for the entire neighborhood. Leela never stopped, from sunrise to sunset, her predictable routine a comfort considering what she’d been like those first few weeks after Byron absconded.

While Khushi had done her best to hide her devastation at Byron’s betrayal out of respect for her aunt, Leela had openly mourned the loss of the man she’d loved. For a month she hadn’t cleaned the house, had taken no care in her appearance and their social lives had consisted of watching countless Bollywood movies, where Leela would criticize the acting, the costumes, the music while she was transported to a magical world in which she longed to live. Away from men who cuddled and sang and promised the world, only to leave without a goodbye and never return.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“More money?”

“Some.”

Not enough to eradicate the drudgery of adding admin duties to her housekeeping ones.

“Good, good, every rupee helps.”

Khushi resumed her rolling with a noncommittal grunt. The slight increase in wages was the only plus in her lauded promotion. She could add to her nest egg, continue to grow her small savings in the hope that...what?

That she could travel one day? See the world? Visit Vancouver and Sydney and London—cities she drooled over in the movies?

Sure, and pigs would turn into parathas.

“When’s your next day off? I need help restocking the spices.”

The rolling pin sheered to the right as Khushi paused midroll, staring at the misshapen chapati, now resembling more a cracked egg than a perfect circle.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

She’d never lied to her aunt, hadn’t had any reason to.

But she wasn’t going to turn her back on this opportunity, on him. Taking a steadying breath, she resumed rolling with a calmness that belied her tumbling tummy.

“Not till next week.”

Leela shrugged, dropped another chapati into the blistering ghee, the clarified butter that added such flavor to her favorite flat bread.

“No matter. It can wait till then.”

Khushi managed a tight smile and continued rolling, the steady rhythm keeping time with the silent mantra echoing through her head.

Seeing him tomorrow...seeing him tomorrow...

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Chapter Three


“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.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

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.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

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.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“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.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

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?”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

http://myhindiforum.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=15770&stc=1&d=1334607486

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.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“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.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“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.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“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.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“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.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Chapter Four


Khushi’s eyes widened to the point he could see tiny caramel flecks in the tawny depths.

Damn, he’d said the wrong thing, blurted his innermost thoughts. Stupid, considering they’d grown closer on the ride over here. He’d seen her visibly thawing, relaxing, as she unobtrusively leaned toward him, her shoulders slack, her eyes rarely leaving his, focused on him, on every word.

Now he expected the shutters to come slamming down, blocking him out, but she surprised him again—the first time had been turning up at their rendezvous point half an hour ago—her mouth curving into a beguiling smile he never knew she possessed.

“You say the most outrageous things.”

Happy she hadn’t reverted to shy and withdrawn, he hopped down from the rickshaw, paid the driver and held out his hand to help her down.

“All true.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

He only just caught her mumbled “bollocks,” the English curse sounding funny spilling from her Indian lips, before he remembered her addiction to movies.

Stepping down from the rickshaw like a queen from a diamond-encrusted carriage, she released his hand as soon as her feet touched ground.

“A bit difficult to start the rest of my life with someone I know nothing about.”

Slinging his backpack higher on his shoulder, he gestured to the shade of a nearby palm tree. “What do you want to know?”

Her soft touch on his arm shocked him more than the depth of feeling in her eyes.

“Everything.”

He mentally punched the air, ecstatic she’d finally acknowledged the connection between them, the underlying, undeniable conviction that whatever they’d started yesterday on Colva Beach had to be seen through to fruition.

“Everything, huh? Well, let’s settle in for the long haul.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Whipping a muslin sheet from his backpack, he settled it on the ground, unzipping the cooler bag as she sat, making quick work of the small picnic he’d brought.

“Wow, you fit all that in there?”

“Thought we might work up an appetite.”

She blushed, the faintest pink staining her olive cheeks as he wondered exactly how inexperienced with men she was. There was something about her, an untouched quality, and while she must’ve had other relationships, he mulled over how she managed to come out so unscathed.

“With all the talking while we get to know each other,” he clarified when his earlier declaration had reduced her to silence.

Taking a soda bottle he offered her, she raised it in his direction. “Start talking then.”

“Born and bred in Melbourne, Australia’s most beautiful city.”

“I thought that was Sydney?”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

She was teasing him, her melodious, singsong accent filled with amusement.

“And you would know because...?”

“Movies, of course.”

“Ah...and the big screen never lies.”

Laughing at his fake indignation, she sipped at her soda and waved him on.

“Continue.”

“I’m a doctor.”

Her lips parted in a surprised, tempting O.

“You thought I was a bum?”

He tugged at the ends of his too-long hair, ran a hand across his stubbled jaw. “Don’t let appearances fool you. I can be pretty respectable when I want to be.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

She should’ve laughed, smiled at least. Instead, a cloud scudded across her eyes, darkened her expression.

“Let me guess, you’ve had a bad experience with the medical profession.”

She shook her head, her glossy black hair falling in a curtain to shield her face, effectively hiding her expression. “I’m just not into appearances.”

She was hiding something. Hunched shoulders, quick look away, evasive response. He was an expert at reading people, had honed the skill by moving through the foster-care system over the years. It had helped him evade a beating on more than once occasion, had held him in good stead when he finally made it to med school and had to blend in with the majority of upper-class, private school-educated students.

Quelling the urge to discover what lay behind her discomfort, he pointed to his clothes. “As you can see by my extensive designer wardrobe, neither am I.”

The corners of her mouth twitched; he’d achieved his goal to distract. “What else do you want to know? Height? Weight? Shoe size?”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

http://myhindiforum.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=15771&stc=1&d=1334607769

While her mouth curved in a smile, it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Why are you really here?”

“In Goa?”

“India.” She pushed her hair out of her face, fixed him with a curious stare. “A year is a long time to travel.”

It was his turn to squirm a little. He wanted to woo her, win her, not bore her with his convoluted life story.

“Six years at med school, a year’s internship takes its toll. I wanted a break before I get back into all that.”

A half-truth that said as much as he wanted yet said so little.

“Why India?”

Another question too close to the truth and he offered her a plate of bondas, his favorite deep-fried potato snack.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“I’ve always wanted to visit and while I was here, I wanted to see it all.”

She appeared satisfied with his answer and he exhaled, unaware he’d been holding his breath.

“So what’s been your favorite place?”

Back on safe ground, he relaxed, placing the plate between them when she refused the snacks.

“Places, more like it. Staying on a houseboat in Kerala was special. The Ajanta caves in Maharashtra. Seeing the Taj for the first time.”

Her wistful smile reached into his chest, wrapped around his heart and squeezed, hard. “I’ve always wanted to see it.”

“You will one day.”

“You think? The farthest I’ve been is Mumbai and that was for work.”

“You have plenty of time to explore the world.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

He paused, weighed his next words carefully, knowing it was too soon but seized by a sudden recklessness to push the boundaries, see how far she’d let him go. “First stop Melbourne, I hope.”

Her eyebrows shot up, her mouth a cute little scoff. “In your dreams.”

“Oh, it’s in my dreams all right.”

If he hadn’t pushed things enough with his declaration, he decided to take it all the way now.

“I dreamed about you last night.”

His hand snaked across the blanket, covered hers, the slight tremble of her fingers indicative of the incredible awareness between them.

“I dreamed about the first moment you looked at me, the first time you smiled, the first time you let me hold your hand.”

He lifted her hand to his lips, his gaze locked on hers, as he kissed every knuckle, every fingertip, savoring the flare of heat, of frantic need, in those seductive golden depths.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“I dreamed about today.”

He released her hand, trailed his fingertips up her arm, across her shoulder until he was cradling her head.

“I dreamed about what it would be like to do this.”

With a gentleness that hid the desperate drive to kiss her senseless, he brushed his lips across hers.

Once.

Twice.

Tempting her to match him, to want him, to kiss him right back.

She hesitated, their breaths mingling with their mouths inches apart, his hand deliberately stilling in her hair despite the urge to drag her forward and quench his insatiable thirst for her.

A second stretched to two, three, and just when he’d given up hope she felt half as much for him as he did for her, she grabbed him, bunched his T-shirt and yanked him forward, closing the short gap between them and plastering her lips to his.

It was a hot, passionate, no-holds-barred kiss.

A hungry kiss driven by pent-up frustration and blind need.

A kiss to end all kisses.

A kiss to build a future on.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Chapter Five


When they finally pulled apart, the old, sensible Khushi would’ve fled.

But that wary woman, evasive and recalcitrant with men, vanished the instant his lips touched hers. With that scintillating kiss he’d obliterated the last of her lingering resistance. She was craving adventure, looked like she’d finally got what she wanted. So what was she going to do about it?

Turn her back because he was gone in a week?

That was part of the attraction, the knowledge they couldn’t get in too deep, the fact he was transient and she couldn’t get too attached.

Less than seven days and he was gone.

She fully intended to make every moment count.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to run.”

Relief flickered in his eyes, quickly masked by his roguish grin. “Wouldn’t be the first time. You did a fair impression of a bolt yesterday.”

“That was yesterday, today’s a new day.”

Her gaze drifted to his mouth, replaying every scintillating second of that kiss: the way his lips had moulded to hers, the way he’d gently teased entrance to her mouth, the way her body had ignited when his tongue first touched hers.

Her breathing grew ragged at the memory and when he made a low sound akin to a groan, she wrenched her gaze upward with difficulty, caught up in an erotic memory she’d never imagined let alone experienced.

“We need to swim. Pronto.”

Determined to try out her new, have-fun-in-the-moment side, she nodded. “Cooling off would be good right about now.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

His low laughter washed over her, more refreshing than any wave. “I think you know exactly how you affect me and are going to use it to my distinct disadvantage.”

“Me?”

She batted her eyelashes like a Bollywood heroine and his laughter increased.

“Come on. Last one into the water is a soggy Samosa.”

Joining in his laughter, she unzipped her sundress, slipped out of it and ran to the water’s edge, increasingly self-conscious in her ancient one-piece.

She swam at Colva Beach all the time—where Leela thought she was right now, having a swim before work—never caring how she looked compared to the tourists in their skimpy bikinis. But feeling Harrison’s hungry eyes on her, her skin prickling with awareness, made her wish she was more fashion conscious.

“The water’s great.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

He raced ahead, splashed through the shallows before hitting deeper water, diving under like a fish.

She followed him, sighing with pleasure as the warm Arabian Sea rose above her knees, her thighs...her head!

Panic flared as she was dragged under and she struggled, fighting her way to the surface only to find herself cradled against a naked chest, supported by strong arms.

“You rat!”

“You don’t mean that.”

He shook his head, sending sea spray over her, his smile wicked and unrepentant.

“I could’ve drowned!”

“Then I would’ve had to give you some more of that mouth-to-mouth we both enjoy so much.”

Heat flooded her cheeks and she placed her palms flat against his chest, shoved.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“Do you really want me to let you go?”

His smile faded, his expression scarily serious and she knew he was asking for answers she wasn’t ready to give, answers she’d never be ready to give.

With a toss of her dripping hair, a flirtatious smile she hoped she could pull off, she said, “Never,” filled with a false bravado, wondering what it would be like for an incredible man to make true on his promise and never let her go.

* * *

“Do you need anything else, Auntie?”

Leela shook her head, pulled the blanket covering her knees higher. “You go ahead, I’ll be fine.”

She didn’t sound fine. In fact, Leela sounded downright petulant at the thought of her going out for the third night in a row. Never mind that her aunt thought it was work the first few nights, Leela had been particularly churlish the last few days.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“I shouldn’t be too late.”

Unless Harrison bamboozled her with more of those soul-drugging kisses. She lost sense of time and place when he kissed her, could’ve been floating over the Taj Mahal for all she knew and had almost been late to work several times now. Usually, she wouldn’t stand for such frippery from the other housekeeping girls but with stars in her eyes and precious memories to sustain her, she’d mellowed.

People at work thought it was her promotion and she hadn’t enlightened them, waltzing through the day with a serene smile and loads of patience. No one knew about Harrison and she’d like to keep it that way, an illicit memory to treasure and savor and replay at will after he’d left. In a few short days.

“Who’s going to the movie with you?”

“One of the girls from work.”

Her quick look away was less than convincing as Leela’s shrewd stare traveled from her shoes to her hair.

“You look very nice. Going somewhere after the movie?”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

http://myhindiforum.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=15772&stc=1&d=1334608103

“No.”

Every little white lie drove the dagger of guilt deeper, but there was no other way.

They didn’t talk of dreams or men or love in this house. Not since Byron had walked out the door and taken both their hearts with him.

Seemingly convinced, Leela picked up the remote control, flicked to her favorite American soap opera.

“Have a nice time, dear.”

Khushi was too busy rushing out the door to see her aunt’s shrewd stare follow her, knowing, watchful, tinged with pity.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Chapter Six


“Ever seen a Bollywood movie?”

Harrison shook his head, offered her the newspaper cup of spicy, crispy chickpeas, Goa’s equivalent to popcorn.

“I don’t have much time to watch movies.”

And he wouldn’t, not for a very long time. If the past seven years had been busy, his residency hours would be off the scale.

“Too bad. You’re missing out on a lot.”

“Fill me in.”

“Drama, mystery, passion, you’ll see.”

Her eyes sparkled with expectation as she scooped a handful of chickpeas, munched them, her gaze riveted to the opening credits while his gaze remained fixed on her.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

He could watch her for hours, memorizing the curve of her cheek, the faintest indentation near her lips on the left, the long eyelashes, the sweep of her brow. He knew every inch of her face intimately, had committed it to memory, for who knew where the end of this week would lead them?

He had a fair idea but whether she’d agree to his plans was another matter.

“Any bad guys in this?”

“Shh.”

She waved him away, her attention focused on the screen, and he grinned, content to drape an arm around her waist and snuggle her closer.

As he read the subtitles, tapped his foot to the rhythmic beat of tablas as the actors danced and twirled their way across the screen in a flurry of colorful saris, Khushi leaning into him felt so right, so perfect, that he didn’t want this to end.

Not just this night—watching a movie on Colva Beach surrounded by other tourists, a sky full of stars overhead, a soft symphony of waves in the background—but this feeling. Feeling like he could do anything, be anyone, as long as Khushi was by his side.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Casting a surreptitious glance her way, he acknowledged what he’d refused to believe since the first time he laid eyes on her.

She was his. His to cherish, to love, to grow old with.

They belonged together and he’d be damned if he let a simple thing like an ocean between their countries stand in his way.

He had no idea how long the movie lasted, his mind a thoughtful whir as he hatched plans and sorted scenarios and envisaged their future, while the woman he wanted by his side forever sat cuddled into him, hypnotized by the movie, content for him to pass her drinks and snacks.

When the epic finally finished, she blinked like a drowsy **** stretched and turned shining eyes to him.

“Wasn’t that fantastic?”

“Uh-huh.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Tell me the ending.”

“The guy got the girl.” Ducking in for a swift kiss, he murmured, “My kind of movie.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“You weren’t watching, were you?”

He shook his head, suddenly serious. “Only snippets. I was thinking.”

“About what?”

Jumping to his feet, he held out his hand to help her up. “Come on, let’s take a walk and I’ll tell you.”

Holding hands, they strolled toward the water’s edge, away from the tourists, away from the loud music spinning from a makeshift DJ brought in to entertain the post-movie crowd.

Goa had a different vibe to the rest of India, pulsed with energy at any time of day and night, and he’d miss it.

“So what’s this great secret?”

They stopped at the ocean’s edge, the waves gently lapping at their ankles and he steeled himself, about to make the most important speech of his life.

“I’m leaving on Saturday.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“I know.”

Her soft tone wrapped around him like a wraith, filled with sorrow.

“I want you to come with me.”

Momentous words, blurted with the finesse of a charging elephant, as her jaw dropped. “Before you say anything, hear me out.”

Pulling her close, he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding as if he’d never let go, willing her to believe in them, in him.

“I know we haven’t known each other long and you have a life here, but I think we can make a good life together in Australia. Once we’re settled, we can sponsor your aunt and—”

“She’ll never leave here.” Her eyes, wide and luminous in the moonlight, shone with the sudden sheen or tears. “I can’t leave here.”

“Why?”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“She depends on me. It’s how things are done here. Children look after their older relatives, it’s tradition.”

He understood, had seen the close family units on his travels over the past year, but had assumed Leela had other family.

“Maybe we can—”

“Don’t, please don’t.”

The tears spilled over, trickled down her cheeks and he hugged her to him, hating he’d made her cry, hating what appeared to be an unworkable situation.

“Shh...” He rocked her, smoothing her back, burying his face in her hair and inhaling the faint sandalwood scent he’d come to love.

He couldn’t lose her, couldn’t return to Melbourne without the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

When her sobs petered out, he slowly disengaged, tipped her chin up, looked into her eyes.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“I love you. And crazy as it sounds, I think I fell in love with you the moment we met. Think I’m nuts?”

Her hand hovered between them, as if she wasn’t sure whether to touch him or not, before cradling his cheek.

“I think you’re incredible but I can’t leave.”

“There has to be a way we can make this work, dammit!”

She flinched at his outburst, dropped her hand and stepped away as if he’d struck her.

“Sorry, I’m just frustrated. I wish you could—”

“I can’t!”

Bristling with indignation, she glowed with an inner fire he’d never seen before and it made him want her even more.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“If you’re so hell-bent on us being together, why don’t you stay here? You’re a doctor, this country is crying out for good medicos.”

She warmed to her topic, her hands punctuating the air for emphasis, her expression suddenly alive as if she’d stumbled on the idea for the first time.

He hadn’t. He’d considered it as a viable option for all of two seconds before facing reality. He had to return, couldn’t turn his back on repaying a debt.

He held up his hands, imploring her to stop before he had to let her down any further.

“I can’t stay.”

“Why?”

He didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to put his dreams ahead of her but if he didn’t tell her the truth now, he’d lose any chance of having her come with him, however slim.

“When I go back, I’m starting work for a major medical charity organization. They provide care for kids who can’t afford treatment. It’s a brilliant opportunity.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

He saw the confusion in her eyes, the hurt, that he was putting his career ahead of her, and he knew he had to tell her all of it.

“I had leukemia when I was in my teens. Like you, I was an orphan, lived in foster homes most of my life. This organization funded my treatment, saved my life.”

He closed his eyes, too easily conjuring up memories of the hospital, of watching kids he’d come to know, kids he liked, die around him one by one, while he lived.

Because of the charity organization and the special treatment they’d funded for him, which is why he couldn’t turn his back on them, couldn’t let more kids die because they didn’t have the opportunities he had.

“You feel you owe them.”

His eyes flew open, shocked she’d seen into his soul so easily. “Damn straight I do. It’s not fair that some people can pay the price for life while others can’t.”

She shrugged, pragmatic. “It’s the way of the world. You can’t save everyone.”

“I can try.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

http://myhindiforum.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=15774&stc=1&d=1334608411

His defensive response sounded fierce, fanatical, and he softened his tone. “There are too many underprivileged kids in Melbourne who need access to medical treatment and this organization provides it. I can help those who need it most.”

And ensure he never ended up poor again—could support himself, and a family. The family he’d never had, the family he desperately craved.

Her proud smile made him feel like a god. “You’re even more amazing than I thought.”

“It’s the cape and external underwear that tricks ’em every time.”

He laughed at her puzzled frown. “Superman? Get it?”

His chuckles died as her curious gaze dropped to where his external underwear would be.

“I better add funnyman to incredible and amazing.”

“Amazing enough to leave Goa for?”

The amusement faded from her eyes, to be replaced by a sorrow echoing in his heart that there was nothing he could do to solve their dilemma.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“I can’t leave my aunt, turn my back on tradition, you can’t turn your back on what you know in here—” she placed a hand on his heart “—is right.”

Desperate, he gripped her upper arms, implored her to listen.

“There must be something we can do—”

“There isn’t.”

She wrenched out of his grasp, her face twisted in pain. “Please, if you love me, you have to let me go.”

The anguish in her tone shot an arrow straight through his heart and cleaved it in two.

Before he could react, she fled. Running across the sand, she dived into the crowd that swallowed her and as he followed, dodging people, slamming into a human wall of resistance, he realized he was fighting a losing battle.

Time to stop, rethink, replan.

This battle may be over but he was far from losing the war.

He loved Khushi, would never give up on her.

Now he had to convince her of that.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Chapter Seven


“You’re not going to work today?”

“No, day off.”

Khushi didn’t look up from the steaming pot of crab curry simmering on the stove, finding the crustaceans infinitely more fascinating than facing another interrogation from her aunt.

Leela had been badgering her intermittently over the last day or so, ever since she’d woken after her night out with Harrison and barely spoken.

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t squeeze air let alone words past the perpetual lump in her throat and she’d spent as much time at work as possible, away from her aunt’s watchful eye.

But she couldn’t stay out forever and the fact Leela had chosen to make crab curry, her favorite, didn’t bode well. She’d want to make desultory small talk between cracking the claws, dipping butter-soft parathas into the spicy gravy, the way they always did over this meal.

“I’m glad you’re home today, you’ve been working too hard ever since the promotion.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Leela waddled to the spice containers, tipped a handful of mustard seeds, cardamom pods and cumin seeds onto a plate for the vegetable dish to accompany the crab. “I hardly see you anymore.”

Khushi made a noncommittal sound, stirring the curry with renewed vigor.

Guilt at deceiving Leela added to her sorrow at losing Harrison, increasing the pain in her chest as it spread outward, growing exponentially with every second his official departure grew closer.

She glanced at her watch for the umpteenth time, willing the hours of this Friday evening to pass so she could seek oblivion in sleep.

Not that she’d been sleeping much either but in the sanctity of her room, she could drop the pretense, wallow in her grief at losing her heart, losing her head, losing the love of her life.

For she was under no false pretenses now.

She loved Harrison, had realized it when she ran from him the other night, knowing the agony tormenting her wouldn’t be so painful, so devastating, unless she loved him.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

And that made this fiasco even worse. She’d sworn never to give her love so freely again, had effectively shielded her heart since Byron had shattered it and while that had been a childhood love, based on unquestioning trust and loyalty, this gut-wrenching, soul-deep love had her hurting more than she could’ve ever imagined.

“I’ll grind these spices for the baingan bharta and halva, be back in a moment.” Leela hesitated at the back door, her expression concerned. “Maybe we can talk later?”

Khushi bit her lip and nodded, grateful when her aunt went out on the back veranda, leaving her in peace. Her reprieve would be all too short and blinking back the sting of tears, she had to gather herself before she blurted out the whole sorry tale to her aunt. Crab curry, her favorite eggplant dish and sweet halva: maybe her aunt was smoothing the way to the truth?

A loud pounding at the front door had her glancing at the veranda. If she could barely summon coherent responses for Leela, there was no way she was up to chatting with callers.

When Leela didn’t appear, she replaced the pot lid, slid the spoon into a holder and wiped her hands on her apron before heading for the door, taking a deep breath, pasting a welcoming smile before opening the door.

To find the man she loved brandishing a fistful of documents and looking like he hadn’t slept in days.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Dark stubble covered Harrison’s jaw, dark circles ringed his eyes and a dark, haunted expression reflected the pain stabbing her anew at the sight of him.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you before I leave.”

“How did you find me?”

Guilt slashed his face, momentarily overshadowing the pain. “I followed you from the hotel.”

“You’re stalking me?”

Harsh, untrue, but she needed to push him away, make him leave before she fell into his arms in a blubbering heap.

“Come on, Khush, you know me better than that.” He rattled the documents, an envelope, piquing her curiosity against her better judgment. “I had to give you this.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Glancing over her shoulder, she strained her ears for sound of her aunt, satisfied when she heard the rhythmic grinding of the rolling pin on the stone, and quickly stepped over the threshold and half shut the door.

“You shouldn’t be here. We’ve got nothing to say to each other.”

“That’s not true and you know it.”

Before she could react he’d wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against his body. She responded as if it were the most natural thing in the world, fitting into him, her head tilting up to meet the incoming onslaught of his lips.

And it was an onslaught—a feverish, desperate clashing, a furious melding of mouths, demanding, taking as much as giving, wanting more.

A few seconds, maybe an eternity later, she tore away, gasping for air, grasping at sanity. When he kissed her, held her, all logic fled and left in its place a relentless yearning that being with this man was right, no matter what the obstacles.

Placing her hands on his chest, she shoved, hard. “Go. Now.”

“No.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Grabbing her hand, he dropped to one knee, his pleading gaze locked on her, unwavering while her heart somersaulted at the implication of what he was doing.

“I love you, Khushi. I want to be with you. I want to grow old with you. I want to cherish you for as long as you’ll let me.”

Lifting her hand to his lips, he brushed a tender kiss, as flimsy as the flutter of butterfly wings against her skin.

“I want us to have a family. I want us to have it all.”

His eyes pleaded with her, his hand squeezing hers as hard as the invisible hand wrapped around her heart.

“You’re my world. Marry me.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Chapter Eight


“Harrison, stop, please...”

Her plea died on a whimper as she started to tremble, gasp for air, little black dots dancing before her eyes.

“Hey, easy.”

He leaped to his feet, steadied her as she started to sway. “Not quite the reaction I expected to my proposal.”

“Sorry.”

“Here, sit.”

He helped her down to the top step, sat next to her, his arm comforting and solid around her waist.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“I have to go in. My aunt will be—”

“That’s all I get? Some lame brush-off?”

It was all she could give him, all she could ever give him. She’d had two days to chastise herself over losing her heart too easily, two days to get used to the idea they’d never be together. Sure, his proposal shook her—she’d almost fainted from the shock—but no matter how badly she wanted to scream yes, her answer would always be no.

“Leela needs me. I’m sorry, I can’t.”

After gulping several huge lungfuls of air, she stood, headed for the door on wobbly legs.

“Here, take these.”

He thrust the documents into her hand and her fingers convulsed around them despite wanting to drop them, for whatever connection the papers and the envelope had to him, she didn’t want them.

She needed a clean break. It would take long enough to get over him without any reminders.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

http://myhindiforum.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=15775&stc=1&d=1334608756

“What—”

“I’m hoping you’ll change your mind.”

Her breath caught as she peeked at the top form.

“That’s where I’ve been the past few days, chasing up a contact to speed up your passport application.” He dug into his top pocket, pulled out a slimline folder and shoved it into her other hand. “In case you want to use this. It’s an airline ticket.”

Her heart expanded, filled to the brim with love and futile wishes and pain, so much pain she had to turn him away.

“I’ve got a month before I start work. All my contact details are in there.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Capturing her face, he kissed her, a long, slow kiss filled with tenderness and love and promise.

“For a long time, I thought no one believed in me. Then the organization came through for me, I survived the leukemia and my belief system was tilted on its head. Now I need you to believe in me, in us.”

Pain slashed through her, cutting deep. “I wish I could but—”

“This isn’t goodbye. I’ll see you in Melbourne.”

“No...”

Her whispered refusal echoed in silence.

He’d already gone, taking her heart with him.

***

Khushi’s hand trembled, the documents Harrison had given her rattling noisily as she shut the door, leaned back against it and closed her eyes.

Fatigue seeped through her body, rendering her muscles useless, making her skin crawl with dread. She felt old, ancient, like she wanted to sleep for a million years so when she woke up the pain would be gone.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Instead, as she took a deep breath and opened her eyes, the situation worsened.

Leela stood in the doorway, arms folded, expression formidable.

“You heard?”

“Everything.”

“I’m sorry I lied to you, Auntie. I wanted to tell you—”

“I already knew.”

Maybe the sorrow clogging her throat had wedged in her ears, too, for she could’ve sworn her aunt just said she’d known about Harrison.

“Come. Sit. We’ll talk.”

Leela slipped an arm around her waist, drew her back to the kitchen, to the table, helping her like she was a frail invalid.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“My child, I’ve raised you. I know your every mood. Did you think I wouldn’t realize you’re in love?”

Khushi didn’t respond, couldn’t summon the energy. Besides, what could she say? She’d been foolish enough to fall in love with a man who lived a world away?

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Hating how much pain she’d cause her aunt by bringing up the one name she’d vowed never to say in this house, she finally raised her gaze from the documents and met her aunt’s eyes, surprised by the compassion there.

She’d expected anger at being deceived; judgment, even censure, but Leela’s steady stare was as benign as ever.

“Because we never talk of love in this house.”

“Why would you think...? Because of Byron?” Leela spat the word in bitter disappointment. “Just because that relationship didn’t work out for me, doesn’t mean yours won’t.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“But I loved him, too!”

She’d loved him as only a six-year-old can: innocently, ferociously, wholeheartedly. She’d only been living with Leela three years when he’d breezed into their lives, sweeping Leela off her feet, and she’d followed suit. She’d trusted him. For years. Then he’d gone, leaving a hole in her heart, in her life.

Leela shook her head, hugged her belly as if in pain. “This is my fault. When he left, you were young and we never spoke of it. I should’ve realized...”

“He broke your heart. How did you cope?”

Leela blinked, a film of remembrance misting her eyes. “Byron never made me any promises. He would come and go over the years and I let him. I took whatever he gave me but I knew he would never stay.”

“Why?”

Leela blinked, the memories instantly vanishing, replaced by sadness. “Because he was married.”

The revelation shocked her, more at the thought of her aunt carrying on an affair for five years knowing it would lead nowhere.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“Not that he ever told me but I knew from certain things he said.” Leela reached out, took hold of her hand. “I’m sorry, I thought he was good for you, a father figure in your life. I guess I never realized how deeply you cared for him.”

“I loved him.”

“So did I, dear, more than was good for either of us. When he left that last time, I knew it was for good. I was tired of our arrangement. You were growing up, I didn’t want you believing it was enough to settle for a man rather than having him one hundred percent, so I told him not to come back.”

Horror shattered her shock. “You gave him up for me?”

“No, dear, I did it for me. Five years of waiting for the phone to ring, living for that special knock on the door, grew tiring.”

“So you ended it?”

Leela nodded, the bun perched atop her head wobbling. “And I don’t regret it.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“But you cried for weeks, shut yourself away, didn’t socialize... Since then you’ve kept yourself so busy you don’t go out much, you don’t date, you don’t—”

“I was ashamed.”

“Why?”

“People around here knew me well, knew what I was doing. I couldn’t face their talk, their smugness when it ended. Besides, I had you, my darling girl, to keep me entertained. Now, tell me about this young man of yours. Do you love him?”

Khushi bit the inside of her cheek to stop from blurting the extent of her feelings for Harrison. It would do no good. And after hearing what Leela had just said, she was justified in her decision to send him away. Her aunt had given up so much for her; the least she could do is return the favor.

Swallowing the threat of tears swelling in her throat, she nodded. “He’s amazing. He’s a doctor, going to work with underprivileged kids. He’s kind and gentle and—”

“And what are you doing here? Didn’t I hear a marriage proposal?” Leela pointed to the documents still clutched in her hand. “And he bought you an airline ticket? What are you waiting for?”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

“I can’t leave you!”

An understanding smile took years off her aunt’s wrinkled face.

“Can’t or won’t?”

“But you just said—”

“What I should’ve said a long time ago. Your young man—” Leela paused, screwed up her nose “—I don’t even know his name.”

“Harrison.”

Leela’s smile widened. “Lovely. Anyway, your Harrison is nothing like Byron. Harrison loves you, has promised you the world, whereas Byron never promised me anything beyond the occasional visit.”

“You need me, you just said so. I can’t leave—”

Leela held up a finger, stopped her. “You won’t leave, there’s a difference. And seeing as we’re being so honest here, I have to say I think you’re using me as an excuse.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Khushi’s jaw dropped as the implications of what her aunt said sunk in. She’d loved Byron, and he’d betrayed her trust by leaving, not even taking the time to say goodbye when he knew he wouldn’t be returning. And she’d steered clear of men ever since. First she’d lost her father, then Byron, and her heart had hardened. Until a laid-back Aussie with a **** drawl and a roguish smile had melted it. And what had she done? Sent him away.

Leela was the only family she had, the only family she’d ever really known. She owed her. But there was a difference between paying an emotional debt and giving up the rest of her life to hide away here, using tradition as an excuse for not taking a chance and embracing life wholeheartedly.

“You’re right.”

She placed the documents on the table, smoothed them, shaken to her core by how far Harrison had gone to prove his love for her.

“What does your heart tell you?”

She loved him, would follow him to the ends of the earth if it meant a life with him.

Leela chuckled, kissed her cheek. “Your expression says it all. I’ll be fine. I have savings, I have this house and I have friends it’s about time I got reacquainted with.”

[Dark Saint Alaick]

This was all happening so fast, so unbelievably fast, and her head spun with the implications of what she was considering.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say nothing. For now, we eat, then you start making plans.”

Plans to take her on the adventure of a lifetime.

***

Trying to navigate the jostling crowd at St. Kilda’s famous Esplanade Sunday Market with a heavy backpack hadn’t been one of Khushi’s brightest ideas but the moment she’d spied the colorful stalls, she’d disembarked the tram and headed straight for them. Besides, she hoped one of the stallholders could point her in the right direction to Acland Street.

Harrison’s instructions had been specific: call him if she changed her mind and arrived in Melbourne.

Where was the fun in that?

She wanted to surprise him but as she showed a vendor the piece of paper with Harrison’s address scribbled on it and followed where he pointed, maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea.

It was almost the end of the month. What if he’d started work early? What if he’d given up on her and moved out?

Ignoring the “what-if” scenarios running through her head, she passed a giant clown’s-mouth entrance to a theme park, a huge palm tree and made a right into Acland Street, her nose twitching at the delicious aromas of vanilla, cinnamon and roasted nuts.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

http://myhindiforum.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=15776&stc=1&d=1334609063

Her stomach rumbled as her head swiveled, stunned by row upon row of cake shops lining the street, their tempting wares piled high in the windows. Everything from custard tarts and vanilla slices to chocolate éclairs filled with decadent lashings of cream and cute cupcakes iced to perfection.

She’d come to the right place to indulge her sweet tooth. But that wasn’t why she was here and as she scanned the shops for an aromatherapist—more precisely, the flat above—she spied a familiar figure at a roadside café table, surrounded by monstrous textbooks, several cups of coffee and a half-eaten Danish pastry.

Her heart leaped, raced, jumped out of her chest as he looked up, her hungry gaze colliding with a stunned blue one as Harrison broke into a wide grin, pushed back his chair and opened his arms.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Her feet flew, cumbersome backpack and all, and she flung herself into his arms, hugged him tight, intent on never letting go.

“Does this mean—”

“Yes, to everything. I want to be your wife, I want to make Melbourne my home, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“What about the family I mentioned? Perhaps having a little girl who’s the image of her gorgeous mother?”

With a shy smile, her mouth hovering an inch from his, she murmured, “I think we can work on that.”

Their lips met, clung, savored and when they finally broke apart she traced the curve of his cheek, lingering near his lips.

“I always craved adventure, but I ended up with the love of my life, too. How lucky am I?”

“Not half as lucky as me.”

As he crushed her to him, his arms safe and strong around her, she knew wherever this man was, she’d always be home.

THE END