‘Last one in is a—’
She had already dived in. She never waited for the word chicken. She had always had to go one better than the boys—that was half the problem of growing up with an older brother, Mia acknowledged as she struck out strongly for the shore. The water was cool against her heated skin and the currents were kind to them. Nevertheless, Ram was right beside her, keeping pace with her and guarding her, just as he always had. ‘I can manage without you running gunshot,’ she said the moment she felt firm sand beneath her feet.
‘But you don’t have to,’ he pointed out.
‘And I can walk—’
‘But you prefer to be carried.’
She was right out of arguments. Night was falling swiftly, and overhead it looked as if ink were bleeding into the rolling grey clouds as Ram strode with her in his arms to where a shrubby green carpet of land met the beach.
‘Do you ever take no for an answer?’ she demanded as he lowered her to her feet.
‘Only selectively,’ he admitted frankly.
She laughed and swayed towards him. He dragged her close. They stared at each other and in that moment they were as close as two people could be. And then they began to laugh. This wasn’t about sex. It was a celebration of a friendship that had survived against the odds. It was a celebration of everything they meant to each other, and it was proof that, whatever fate threw at them next, nothing could ever break the special bond between them.
But there were still far too many secrets, Mia thought as Ram let her go and stood back.
‘So are you going to fill in all the gaps in your life for me?’ she said. ‘Or are you too important now?’ Dragging him by the hand to where the crew were already laying out their picnic, she started to help out in spite of a chorus of protests. ‘Or is it all one big secret?’ she asked Ram as his staff made their way back to the small speedboats.
Ram chose to ignore her question. ‘Choices,’ he murmured, turning to the food. ‘What’s it to be, Mia? Truth, dare or chocolate…?’
‘Normally, I’d find that quite an easy decision to make,’ Mia confessed, tasting some of the delicious-looking finger food. ‘But first there is something I want to know.’
‘Truth, then,’ Ram agreed.
‘When you return to Ramprakesh, is it just a visit, or are you going back there to rule?’
‘At present I’m nothing more than a figurehead, but I intend to change that.’
‘You mean you want to get your hands dirty?’ she said, reading him.
‘That’s one way of putting it. I certainly don’t intend to stand on the sidelines any longer. My people need someone to work with them.’
‘And in a country noted for its corruption, you’re itching to get back there and put things right?’
‘I am,’ he confirmed.
‘You’re absolutely determined to stay and see this through.’
‘Absolutely. Now, that’s enough. It’s your turn.’
Mia groaned, remembering this had started as a game—and there was so much more she wanted to know about Ram.
‘And yours is a dare,’ he said.
‘Why aren’t I surprised?’ she said dryly.
‘Take your eye patch off.’
Mia’s growing confidence vanished in a puff of smoke. ‘I won’t,’ she said. ‘You can ask me anything else you like, but not that.’
Which was how she came to find herself belting out ‘The Time Warp’ to an audience of one on a beautiful Mediterranean beach.
Chapter Twelve
AS THE days passed it was inevitable that Mia and Ram grew closer. And, yes, she was courting disaster, Mia thought as Ram’s super-yacht began its stately progress through the Suez Canal. She was standing next to Ram, enjoying the greatest adventure of her life, knowing there could only be one outcome. Ram had his arm around her as if they belonged together as they watched the passing traffic, but that was an illusion. They were destined to be apart, everywhere but here on his yacht.
In some places the canal was as wide as a lake, and was called the Great Bitter Lake, Ram was explaining, while all Mia could think about was how quickly time was passing, and how she wished they had more time so she could enjoy this trip to the full. Ram looked so effortlessly sexy with his inky-black hair blowing around his wickedly handsome face. He had no idea, she thought as they waved to people in traditional houses lining the banks, how deeply she had fallen for him.
‘Look at the fishermen,’ he said. ‘Wave to them, Mia.’
The men were rowing small boats with their nets bundled in the back, and in the distance she could see a super-tanker. There were pylons and industrial units, cheek by jowl with holiday flats and minarets. She had never seen such a mix of things and said as much to Ram.
‘There’s such a lot I want to show you, Mia.’
She hadn’t meant her eyes to fill with tears, and turned her head away from him when he tried to blot them with his thumb. ‘Do you mind if we go inside now, Ram?’
‘No, of course not,’ he said in a concerned voice.
She led the way—wishing they were in Ramprakesh—wishing this were over—wishing she could get on with the rest of her life.
Liar, Mia thought as Ram took hold of her in the shadows of the doorway. She wanted this to last for ever—and, like a child on its birthday, she refused to accept that the day had to end.
‘I can understand that you’re overwhelmed,’ he said. ‘I felt much the same way when I came here for the first time.’
Yes, that was it, she told herself, smiling up at him.
The days slipped by until they eventually sighted Ramprakesh. The country appeared through the haze of dawn like a magical, mountainous island, drawing them towards it. Ram left her to go and stand at the rail, while she had to forget a body singing from his touch and get on with her own preparations. She guessed that however quietly Ram planned to arrive there would be paparazzi on the dock. It was inevitable, and she didn’t want to let him down.
She chose to wear a stylish, dark blue two-piece, another traditional salwar-kameez, and she teamed that with silkysoft leather sandals—not that anyone would notice, but even in the background she wanted to hold her head up high.
Being with Ram had ramped up her self-belief, Mia realised. After the accident she had gone from invalid to apathy and from there to wildly flailing about in search of a new identity. But now, and largely thanks to Ram, she had a purpose, which was to pick up the pieces of her career. And if she didn’t win the contract to handle the interior design for him, it wouldn’t be for want of trying.
Her heart lifted when she went up on deck and saw Ram staring intently at his homeland. For a moment she stood back just for the pleasure of watching him without disturbing him, but as always Ram sensed her close by.
‘Mia.’
He sounded pleased to see her and reached for her hand. She went to stand beside him to watch the dusty land of green and gold fields drifting past.
They were cruising past a tea plantation, Ram explained, and the glistening rivers she could see in the distance fed those fields. Beyond the lush green hills there were purple snow-capped mountains. She thought it a dramatic landscape over which a striking man should rule.
People had started waving to them from the shore, and the excitement grew as they recognised the yacht and realised who was on board. Mia waved to a group of children lodged perilously in a tree and felt ridiculously thrilled when they waved back at her. How could she even think of taking Ram away from this—how could anyone?
Her emotions were all over the place, Mia realised as Ram shot her a look. The sense of impending loss was becoming unbearable, but she concentrated on the children, all the time hoping that she and Ram could at least go forward as friends.
‘Are you crying with happiness?’ he teased her when her tears refused to be driven back.
‘I’ve got something in my eye,’ she said impatiently.
‘Can I help?’
‘Too late,’ she said, tipping her chin at a determined angle. Far too late. The damage was already done.
‘Well, I have to say, you look absolutely lovely,’ Ram commented as he swept an approving glance over her outfit.
‘Right back at you,’ she said, chirpiness cloaking her inner turmoil, though Ram did look fabulous in a black silk tunic and loose-fitting silk trousers that caressed his powerful body like a lover. ‘There’s only one thing that could improve your appearance,’ she commented, ‘and that’s a smile.’ She had never seen Ram looking so preoccupied.
‘There’s only one thing that could improve your appearance,’ he said, staring pointedly at her eyepatch.