Read Monsoon Mists Online

Authors: Christina Courtenay

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Family Saga, #Scottish, #Sagas, #Historical Romance, #Romance, #Adventure, #Historical, #Fiction

Monsoon Mists (29 page)

BOOK: Monsoon Mists
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She closed her eyes and smiled.

Chapter Twenty-Two

‘Are you all right?’

Jamie stroked the silky skin of Zarmina’s back, feeling gloriously sated but niggled by guilt. She’d been a virgin.
Bloody hell!
It wasn’t something he’d even contemplated. He just assumed the old man had bedded her, but she said he couldn’t. He was impotent. No wonder the bastard had enjoyed touching her so much – it must have been the only thing he could do and he’d taken out his frustration on her.

‘I’m very well, thank you.’ She sounded sleepy and not at all distressed, which he took as a good sign.

‘You didn’t tell me you’d never … I suppose I should have asked. I’m sorry.’

She lifted her head and traced the line of his jaw with her finger, making him shiver as she rasped through four days worth of stubble. He couldn’t see her expression, but the small caress was tender. ‘It wasn’t important. And that bit was over with very quickly. It was the rest that was difficult, to begin with anyway.’

She wasn’t upset. That was a relief.

‘And then?’ he dared to tease.

‘And then, you worked miracles, as I’m sure you know. If I could only see you properly right now, I’d wager you are smirking at me, am I right?’

He did then, but denied it. ‘Absolutely not. Why would I?’

‘Because you were right, damn you.’

‘And that’s a bad thing?’ He reached down to cup her luscious behind, softly raking his fingernails across them.

‘Yes! No. What are you doing?’

‘You didn’t think we were finished, did you?’ He pushed her up so he could kiss her. ‘That was just the beginning. We have all the time in the world and now it’s definitely my turn to be on top.’

‘You mean, you can do it more than once?’

Jamie laughed. ‘Oh, yes. As many times as you want, depending on whether you’d like to be able to sit tomorrow or not, of course. Kiss me back, and I’ll show you.’

‘But we shouldn’t. What if …?’

Jamie didn’t wait to listen to her protests. If he let her talk herself into panicking again, she’d never get used to his lovemaking, and that wasn’t something he wanted. Far from it. He knew now he wanted to continue with this for the rest of their lives. He wanted her in his bed, and his heart, forever.

‘Eurgh, I don’t think I ever want to eat another coconut as long as I live.’ Zar swallowed a mouthful, knowing she had no choice unless she wanted to go hungry.

‘Well, there’s gratitude for you. Your man goes out to gather food for you and all you do is complain. You’re a hard woman to please.’

Zar narrowed her eyes at him. She doubted very much he was ‘her man’. He probably had a woman in every port, the way they said sailors did. The thought was depressing, but she couldn’t blame him. She hadn’t asked for his undying love and to be fair, he’d done her a huge favour in curing her of her fears.

They’d spent two nights under the boat now – or at least that was how long they thought it was, although they couldn’t tell for sure – and she no longer minded him touching her anywhere. In fact, she positively welcomed his caresses. Just the thought of his hands on any part of her anatomy sent darts of anticipation shooting through her. She shook her head. She must stop thinking about Jamie and his lovemaking. It was shameless of her and it had to end. Just because they were cut off from the rest of the world here, didn’t mean they wouldn’t have to rejoin it again soon. And then, she’d have to come to terms with what she’d done. Allowed Jamie to do.

She must have been mad. Reckless, wanton, irresponsible … Her cheeks heated up and she turned away so he wouldn’t notice.

‘As you’re becoming bored with the fare, perhaps it’s time we did some more reconnoitring. Shall we go for a walk to see how far this sandbar stretches?’ Jamie suggested. ‘It’s still raining, but it’s not a torrential downpour at the moment.’

He’d been out during the previous day, heading inland, and reported back that they seemed to be on nothing more than a sandbar. There was a strip of water separating them from what might either be the coast or an island, but it had looked too deep to negotiate.

‘We’ll still get wet,’ Zar protested, although in truth, she wasn’t really afraid of a bit of rain. It was more that she didn’t want their time here to come to an end. But of course it had to soon in any case.

‘It’s monsoon season, it’s going to rain on and off for months! We can’t stay here for that long. At least, I hope we don’t have to. If there’s no way to cross to the next piece of land by foot, we’ll have to drag the boat across to the inner shore and row again. Or try to row around the sandbar, but it could go on for miles so I’d rather not.’

Zar nodded. ‘Very well. Let’s go now then, while it’s daylight.’

She was dressed again, albeit in a very creased, stiff and uncomfortable gown and petticoat. They’d taken turns to go down to the shore to wash as best they could in the saltwater, but this had left her skin itchy and rough, so it wasn’t ideal. They didn’t dare go swimming because the current seemed very strong, sucking at their legs and feet as they stood in the shallows.

They set off, going left first. ‘Let’s see how long this strip of sand really is,’ Jamie said, striding out so that Zar had to walk very fast to keep up. To her relief, he took hold of her hand and pulled her along, which helped.

After some time, the beach began to curve slightly and as they rounded it, they caught sight of smoke rising into the air. ‘Ah, we’re not as alone as we thought we were,’ Jamie muttered. ‘Can you give me one of the little diamonds, please? We might need something to barter with.’

Zar had returned them to their hiding place before leaving the boat, just in case they weren’t coming back, and she took one gemstone out and handed it to him.

The smoke turned out to be coming from a group of fishermen’s huts clustered together at the southern end of what they said was indeed a sandbar. One of the men spoke some Gujarati, so Zar was able to communicate with him.

‘Where exactly are we?’ she asked. ‘Is the Indian coast far?’

The man smiled and shook his head, pointing to his left. ‘This is Juhu and the islands of Salsette and Bombay are over there. You can walk to the first one at low tide.’

Zar quickly translated for Jamie, who seemed to have understood the gist anyway. ‘Can you show us the best place to cross, please? We can pay you.’

Once Jamie held up the diamond, the man and his friends became extremely helpful indeed. They even went so far as to lead Zar and Jamie along the inner side of the sandbar to a precise point where they said it would be safe to cross very soon. It appeared to be some sort of tidal creek, negotiable during low ebb.

‘Just watch the water. We’ll leave you now,’ the fisherman said.

‘Thank you.
Namaste.

The men waved goodbye and hurried back to their dry huts. While the water ebbed, Zar and Jamie settled down to wait beneath a tree. The water did seem to be receding, so Zar hoped they’d been told the truth.

‘So if that is an island called Salsette over there, how far is it to Bombay, do you know? And can we get help there?’ she asked. ‘There are English people, right?’

‘Yes, but we won’t need them.’ Jamie was smiling, obviously pleased with the news. ‘I have a house there.’

‘In Bombay? Why?’

Once again, Zar had the feeling she didn’t know this man at all, even though she’d ‘known’ him in the most intimate sense. He was an enigma.

‘It seemed like a good idea to buy one. It was the only place in India where an Englishman – or in my case a Scotsman – was allowed to buy a property, and I was tired of living like a complete nomad. I wanted somewhere to keep a few things permanently. I don’t spend a lot of time there, but it’s been handy.’

‘I see.’

‘Bombay isn’t as nice as Madras – it rains a lot more and the temperature and humidity are unbearable a lot of the time, but it’s become an important port for trade with the Red Sea countries and the Persian Gulf. It made sense to have a foothold there, even though I don’t like it much. Madras is a much better place in my opinion. But Bombay is good for my trading ventures.’ He slung an arm round her shoulder and pulled her to his side, giving her a brief hug. ‘Don’t worry. Once we get there, I’ll be able to provide you with food, clothes and shelter from this infernal weather. Then we can make plans.’

‘Plans?’ Her stomach did a somersault. Was he already plotting how to get rid of her now he’d had what he wanted? Well, why should she care? She had a perfectly good life in Surat. As long as she wasn’t with child …

As if he’d heard part of her thoughts, he said, ‘We need to go back to Surat and see what’s been happening there. I do hope Sanjiv has finally arrived. And don’t you want to know if William made it home?’

‘Not particularly.’ She called her stepson something very nasty in Gujarati and Jamie chuckled.

‘I’ve no idea what that means, but I can guess,’ he said when she raised her eyebrows at him. ‘But if I was William, I’d be afraid of meeting you again, after he abandoned you like that.’

‘Yes, I still can’t believe he did that, but even so, I’m sure he’s not afraid of me in the slightest.’

‘I would be. I’m sure you have quite a temper when you’re riled and I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of it.’ Jamie grinned and then laughed out loud when she punched him on the arm. ‘Enough, woman. We have some walking to do. Look, I think it’s safe now. The water looks shallow. Shall we try?’

‘Very well.’

Zar hiked up her skirts and followed him, holding on to his hand so as not to lose her footing. She didn’t tell him that leaving the little sandbar felt like leaving Paradise. She didn’t think he’d agree.

‘To think it was so easy to reach civilisation! We could have been here two days ago if we’d known.’

After crossing over to Salsette, an island that seemed to be mostly made up of mangrove forest and marshland, they had found another fisherman to row them across to Bombay. From the shore, they’d been able to walk to Jamie’s house as it wasn’t far.

‘Indeed. We could probably have rowed down too if we’d realised how close it was, but we would have risked getting caught in strong currents. This way was better.’

And if they hadn’t stayed on the sandbar, he may not have had the chance to make love to this beautiful woman. Jamie took a deep breath and tried not to look at the lady in question. He had some decisions to make and seeing her clean and dressed in native clothing, with that glorious hair hanging down her back while it dried out after recently being washed, wasn’t helping his thought processes one whit.

‘But we had no way of knowing and I, for one, was too tired to go exploring when we reached the shore.’ His muscles had recovered and the swelling around his eye had gone down, but his hands were still a bit sore, despite him washing them frequently with sea water.

‘Well, it’s wonderful to be properly clean again. I didn’t think I’d ever get rid of the feeling of salt water.’ Zar finger-combed her long tresses and shook her head so the mane of dark brown hair rippled. Jamie had an urge to bury his own fingers in it this instant.

Jamie’s two servants, a Hindu man and his widowed sister who looked after the property when he wasn’t in Bombay, had been very efficient in providing them with baths, clean clothes and food with a minimum of fuss. They hadn’t batted an eyelid when Jamie asked them to procure Indian clothing for himself and Zar. Jamie paid them very well for their services, but he was pleased to know it was money well spent.

Zar was standing by a window in his salon now, looking out over the small garden that belonged to the property. He came up behind her and put his arms round her waist, bending down to bury his nose in her hair. ‘Mmm, I must say you smell better too,’ he teased.

‘Jamie!’ She turned her face to glare up at him, then obviously noticed his amusement. ‘I’m sure you do as well,’ she murmured, turning a delicate shade of pink when his hands began to roam higher. To his frustration, she pushed them away and stepped out of his reach, putting some distance between them. ‘Please, don’t do that.’

‘Why not? There’s no one to see us. And besides, even if there were, they’ll have to get used to it.’

‘What do you mean?’ She wrapped her arms round her middle, the way he’d noticed her do before whenever she felt vulnerable. Jamie wondered why she was doing it now. He thought he’d managed to put her thoroughly at ease in his company.

He took a deep breath. Time to get serious. Just touching her and breathing in her scent had made up his mind for him and he knew what he had to do, even though a part of him still panicked at the thought. But did he really have a choice? Not if he was an honourable man and he realised now that was what he wanted to be.

‘I’d be very honoured if you’d be my wife, Zarmina.’

Her eyes opened wide in alarm. ‘What? No!’

She took another step away from him, but he reached out and captured her hands.

‘You want me to get down on bended knee?’ He tried out his most charming smile on her, but it didn’t work.

‘No, please don’t.’

‘As you wish.’ Her expression was not encouraging in the least, but he ploughed on regardless. ‘Zar,’ he said, trying his best to stay calm and reasonable. ‘After what we did on the beach, do you really want to stay unmarried? I thought I’d convinced you there was nothing to be afraid of. You don’t think I’m going to turn into an ogre overnight, the moment I put a ring on your finger, do you?’ He smiled again to show he was joking, but there was no let-up in her scowl.

‘I don’t need a husband. I’m fine on my own,’ she insisted. ‘I thought you were different. You were the only one who
didn’t
ask me to marry you.’

‘That was before we made love.’

‘Well, what we did, it doesn’t mean … doesn’t have to lead to marriage.’

‘Making love usually does.’
And call a spade a spade. I thought I’d taught you that by now.
‘Zarmina, there are other things to take into account here. If William has managed to get back to Surat, he’ll probably think you dead, or at the very least a slave to the pirates, never to return. He’ll be busy taking your half of the business and if he has any sense – which I grant you, he may not have – he’ll sell what he can and go back to England. He will never be safe in India again after his treachery. Whoever stole the talisman will be after him, for one thing.’

BOOK: Monsoon Mists
2.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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