Tiger’s Destiny (52 page)

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Authors: Colleen Houck

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BOOK: Tiger’s Destiny
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“Can it wait until tomorrow?” I asked as I pressed my lips against his forehead.

He pulled me even closer, smiled, and said, “Definitely.”

I laughed until he took hold of my face and brought my lips back to meet his.

futami rope

T
o say Nilima was thrilled about our engagement was an understatement, and she helped organize the wedding in her usual efficient and elegant manner.

Ren put me in charge of the guest list, which was very short, considering there weren’t many people on either the bride’s or groom’s sides to invite.

Nilima was the one who suggested we have our wedding in Japan because the major headquarters of Rajaram Industries was located there. Mr. Kadam had made plans upon his death to bequeath the business to his young grandson, Dhiren Rajaram, with Nilima as the acting head until he finished school. Our wedding was the perfect time to introduce Ren as the new president of the company and, in a social setting, meet those who helped run the business.

Ren set the wedding date for August seventh. It was only six weeks away, but he romantically explained, “It’s when the stars come together this year.”

“Are you talking about the Star Festival?”

He stroked my hair and nodded. “The Sky King must have heard my wish last year.”

“Which one?” I teased. “You put hundreds of wishes on that tree.”

Leaning toward me, he cupped my cheek. “All of them,” he said softly.

After a very thorough kiss, I commented, “If we can’t arrange everything in time, how do you feel about eloping?”

Laughing, he hugged me close as Nilima bustled in, arms loaded with boxes, and leaned down to whisper in my ear, “Don’t tempt me.”

My foster family was flown to Japan a week before the wedding, and we both celebrated our happiness and mourned our losses together. We told them that Mr. Kadam and Kishan had died in a plane crash over the Andaman Islands a few months before. Sarah cried with me and expressed great sadness over Kishan especially, whose life had just begun. I nodded my head and felt the bitter pang in my heart whenever I thought of the golden-eyed prince.

Ren took my hand as I finished my story, and Sarah wiped her eyes and smiled at him. My brilliant diamond and sapphire ring sparkled in the light, catching her eye. Sarah gasped at its beauty. Smoothly exaggerating, Ren made up a story about negotiating with a private dealer, and I laughed as he described the gold dragon Jīnsèlóng’s human form and character in great detail.

Nervously, I twisted my ring and rubbed the bare spot directly below it where Kishan’s lotus shaped ruby used to sit. The night before, Ren had asked me for Kishan’s ring, which I reluctantly gave to him.

Knowing what I was thinking, Ren kissed my fingers and winked as he smoothly answered Sarah’s and Mike’s questions.

August seventh approached quickly and late that afternoon I found myself standing in front of a full-length mirror. A beautiful woman looked back at me. My brown eyes sparkled, and I could have sworn my jeweled-slipper-covered feet weren’t touching the ground.

Nilima had done an amazing job choosing my wedding dress. The tight beaded bodice cinched in my waist and was a perfect contrast to the dramatic and voluminous ball-gown skirt. I slid my hands over the ivory satin fabric and its intricate lace peek-a-boo underlay. The edges of the sweetheart neckline and dress’s split were lined with cascading champagne silk roses, and floral appliqués spilled over my shoulders onto the cap sleeves. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

Nilima fussed with my cathedral train and helped me to put on hair combs adorned with creamy pearls and champagne-colored diamonds. I slipped on a matching pair of dangling earrings next, followed by what Nilima called a traditional Indian slave bracelet. A chain of tiny pearls attached the thick, jeweled bracelet and ring set.

I’d convinced her that I didn’t need the
maangtika
, a jeweled bindi hairpiece. Ren and I together had decided I would not get the traditional henna bridal tattooing because it reminded us too much of Phet’s tattoo.

Nervously, I spun around and asked Sarah, “What do you think?”

She put her hand to her mouth and smiled widely. Waving her hands over her eyes so she wouldn’t cry, Sarah said, “I think you look like a princess.”

“That’s very fitting, then,” Nilima said with just a bit of smugness.

I clutched her hand and gazed at Nilima’s and Sarah’s satin gold-draped gowns. “You look beautiful too.”

A soft knock on the door turned out to be Mike, who stepped into the room and offered his arm. Nilima handed me my bouquet. It was a gorgeous arrangement of cream and champagne roses, gardenias, sprigs of white jasmine, and buttermilk tiger lilies with little black streaks that reminded me of Ren’s tiger form. The scent was heavenly. Sarah blew me a kiss as she and Nilima left to take their places.

Mike looked handsome in his father-of-the-bride garb, but he pulled at the high collar of his
sherwani
coat a bit. I patted his shoulder, flashed him a smile, and said, “Just be happy you’re not wearing five hundred pounds of fabric like I am.”

Grinning sheepishly, he quit fussing and pulled me into a hug. “Thank you for asking me to stand in for your father.”

I felt emotion well behind my eyes and blinked rapidly. I had way too much mascara on my eyelashes to even think of crying. “You’ve been a great dad,” I replied.

Without further ado, we stepped outside onto the smooth stone pavement of the Futami Okitama Jinja Shrine and began our long walk to the spirit gate overlooking the ocean. I hoped that somewhere my parents were able to see me marrying the man I loved.

I also thought of my other father, Mr. Kadam. I wished that he could have been with me. He would have been so proud to walk me down the aisle and give me away to Ren. As Mike walked soberly beside me, I was sure I felt Mr. Kadam’s presence and joy for us.

The sunset was beautiful. Clouds had covered the sky for most of the day, but now the light hit the water, making the dark blue ocean glimmer like sparkling sapphire.

When we turned a corner, I saw the small gathering ahead: my family; Nilima, who was my bridesmaid; Sunil, who stood in as Ren’s best man and whose eyes were fixed on Nilima; my old wushu partner Jennifer, who had been flown in as a surprise and who was already crying; and a handful of carefully selected employees of Rajaram Industries. I’d been sad to learn that Murphy had passed away in the six months we’d been gone.

I had sent invitations to Li and Wes, both of whom sent cards wishing me congratulations. Li still wanted a rematch with Ren when we returned to Oregon and was dating off and on but hadn’t found anyone yet who appreciated game night.

Wes said he’d finally talked with his old girlfriend, and she forgave him for leaving her. She was happily married, and his mother began arranging blind dates for him with every eligible girl in Texas.

Li and Wes were good men, but they didn’t make my heart pound out of control like the man waiting for me at the end of the aisle. Japanese drums beat in rhythm as I headed toward the man I was going to marry.

At that moment, Ren turned his head toward me, and my breath caught. He looked so handsome in a traditional, cream-colored silk
sherwani
coat and jeweled
mojari
slippers. His hair curled at the nape of his neck and hung appealingly over one of his eyes. As I came near, he brushed it back, away from his face, and held out his hands. His cobalt blue eyes locked onto mine, and he smiled his special lopsided smile. Everyone else seemed to disappear, and I felt as if I were in a dream.

My fingers tightened on my bouquet as I marveled that this gorgeous Indian prince, born centuries ago, would be my husband. The universe had given me an incredible gift, one more precious than fire power or the Divine Scarf. I had been given this extraordinary man to love.

I handed my bouquet to Nilima, slid my hands into Ren’s, and gazed up into his eyes as we stood beneath the shrine’s spirit gate. A thin Shinto priest stood on a simple wooden box next to us. He was bald and grinning, and he reminded me of Phet.

As we waited for him to begin, Ren smiled and I let out a nervous breath. The ocean breeze played with the fabric of my dress, which shifted softly, but at that moment, no power, natural or otherwise, was going to distract us from each other. His hands were warm, and I felt a slight hum of energy cycling between us.

Now I knew that our connection had always been cosmic. Ren and I had been destined to be together. He was always meant to be mine, and I was always meant to be his. Even though we no longer played the roles of the golden goddess and her tiger, our bond remained. I couldn’t read Ren’s thoughts, but I could sense his emotions—a twinge of nerves, sadness at the loss of his brother, and more than anything else, his overwhelming love for me and desire to make me happy.

The priest asked, “Who is responsible for this woman and gives her in marriage?”

Mike stepped forward. “I do.”

“Do you accept this young man and believe he will be a proper husband to her?”

“He has given me his oath that he will care for her as we do.”

The priest and Mike bowed to each other and then Mike stepped aside.

The priest began telling us about his shrine and the two rocks that jutted out of the ocean behind him. One of the rocks was much bigger than the other, and they were connected to each other by a type of rope.

“These rocks are called
Meoto Iwa
, the wedded rocks. In English, they are
Love
and
The One He Loves
. The larger rock is husband to the smaller one. He takes her to be his wife. They are joined by a
shimenawa
, an enclosed rope. This rope must be strengthened many times in the year.

“As you are entering a marriage you must also strengthen your bond to each other. When the tide is low, the rocks are not separated. But when the waves rise, only this rope attaches them. When troubles crash upon you, stand firm like these rocks and cling to each other through the bond you make this day.”

Then it was time for our vows. I heard sniffling nearby, which was clearly identifiable as Jennifer, but I ignored it, hoping I’d be able to recall everything I wanted to say to Ren.

I began, “Shakespeare said that journeys end in lovers meeting. You once asked me if our story was a comedy or a tragedy. We’ve seen our share of tragedy, and there are empty places here today, but my heart is not empty. My heart overflows. It’s warmed by your kindness, your patience, and most of all your love. You have been a steadfast companion, a supportive friend, a persistent wooer,” he raised an eyebrow, and I smiled, “and you’ve been my warrior angel. Your love has saved me more times than I can number. I hope, in time, that I’ll be able to return the favor.

“I know that each day I get to spend with you is a gift and one that I vow to treasure. I promise to always be yours. I belong with you and from this day forward I belong
to
you. If the universe had allowed me to fashion a man of my fondest desires, I would have created you.”

When I was finished, Ren squeezed my hands and smiled softly.

“Is it my turn?” Ren asked the priest.

“Yes, young man, you may now speak.”

In his warm voice, Ren promised, “My world was dark and bleak when you first came into my life, and at that time, you offered to me what I thought was the most precious of gifts—hope. It wasn’t long before I realized I needed more from you. I asked you to love me. Not a moment has gone by in the last two years when I wasn’t overwhelmed by my feelings for you.

He stretched out his hand and touched my cheek, stroking it with his thumb. “You are everything to me, Kelsey Hayes. Every moment with you shines brighter than the last.”

I heard the hiss of the ocean as the sun began to sink below the horizon. The warm rays of the setting sun touched Ren’s beautiful face as he softly sealed his vows with a poem.

I PROMISE

I promise to remain faithfully beside you.
I pledge to conquer faults; perfect my character.

I vow to deserve you.
I declare you’re my dream, my fervent wish fulfilled.
I offer my past wealth and future promises.
I swear to keep your trust.

I commit my soul’s fire and my body’s force.
I profess I am forever bound to your heart.
I proclaim I am yours.

“My heart is caged no longer,
iadala
, for you have set me free. I walked a very long and lonely road to find you, and I want you to know I’d go through it all again a dozen times over as long as I knew you waited for me at the end.”

My eyes filled with tears, and Ren caught one as it trickled down a lash. His warm smile filled me with happiness. I didn’t think the wedding could have been more perfect. And then Ren cracked open a jewelry box.

Two strands of tiny beads wound around each other in gold and blue. Small diamond and sapphire flowers ran down the length of the chain and in the center hung a diamond lotus flower with a ruby center. I pressed trembling fingertips to my lips as I recognized Kishan’s ring reworked into a new form.

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