Tiger's Voyage (41 page)

I sniffed and moved in front of him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him fiercely. “I do believe that.”

He pressed me tightly to his chest and stroked my hair, quietly. We stood that way a long time. He seemed content to just hold me close. Finally, emotionally spent, I steeled myself and stepped away.

I patted his arm and said, “We can talk about this more tomorrow, Ren. It’s way past midnight now, and I’m exhausted. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight?” he asked, puzzled.

“Yes. Goodnight.” I took two steps away from him and felt his hand on my arm.

“Wait. I’ll walk with you.”

I quickly glanced away from his confused face and hesitated briefly before I spoke. “Umm … you’d better not.
Kishan
is … waiting for me.”

His face darkened. “You’re … still going with
him
?”

I sighed. “Yes.”

“But didn’t anything I say make a difference to you?
Kelsey
—” He grabbed my hand and cupped it between his. “I can
be
with you again. I can
touch
you.” He brought my hand up to his cheek and pressed it there. “I can
hold
you. I can
stay near
you.” He pulled my palm down to his lips and closed his eyes as he kissed it.

He opened them slowly, and I gulped. “I
know
, Ren, but … it doesn’t matter. I’m … I’m with
Kishan
now.”

He dropped my hand as his blue eyes turned icy. “What do you mean you’re
with
Kishan now?”

“Kishan and I are dating now. You remember that, don’t you? Look, we’ll talk about it more tomorrow, okay?” I turned around.

He stepped around me and with a tightly controlled voice said, “I don’t want to talk about it tomorrow, Kells. I want to talk about this now.”

“Ren, I don’t have the energy to fight about this right now. I need some time to process all this. I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

He snagged my hand and tugged me lightly toward him. He pulled me closer and closer until my nose was an inch from his and my back was bent as I tried to keep some distance from him. He leaned toward me and I couldn’t help but stare at his mouth. I panicked thinking he was going to kiss me, but instead, he pressed his lips against my cheek and said, “Fine. Go sleep now, but understand one thing. I will
not
lose you again,
meri aadoo
.”

“What does that mean?”

He smiled and whispered, “It means …
my peach
.”

He straightened and let me go. I turned around and headed quickly for the door. Kishan waited for me near the exercise equipment and when I came closer, he held out his hand. I smiled and took it while he stared over my head. I turned and saw Ren was casually leaning against the door. He watched as Kishan led me off.

When we stepped into the elevator, Ren stood rooted in the same spot, watching us thoughtfully as we descended into the darkness.

When we got to my room, I went to the bathroom to change into my pajamas. Kishan was sitting in a chair waiting for me when I came out. I sat on the bed and crossed my legs under me.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes. I’m fine. I’d like to sleep now and talk about it later, if you don’t mind.”

“Okay. I’m going to help Mr. Kadam tonight. See you in the morning.” He stood and pulled the covers over me, tucking me in, pressed a kiss on my forehead, and gently closed the door behind him.

I turned out the light and twisted and squirmed until I got the heavy covers off and pulled my quilt over me instead. I suddenly realized that Ren knew how to tuck me in and Kishan didn’t. Angrily, I tossed Grandma’s blanket onto the chair and yanked the heavy coverlet up to my chin, stubbornly determined to fall asleep the way Kishan tucked me in. I fell asleep a long time later but moved restlessly all night.

When I woke up, I found that my feet were at the head of the bed and my arm was dangling over the side. I dragged my tired body to the shower and stared at my droopy, baggy eyes in the mirror afterward.

What am I going to do? Ren just wants to pick up where we left off.
Can I do that? Can I hurt Kishan like that? Am I that kind of a person?
What do I feel for Kishan? More than friendship, surely. He’s steady, reliable,
comforting. Sheesh! I sound like I’m describing an old car. So what does that
mean? He’s the Pinto to Ren’s Corvette? No. That’s not true either. I guess the
real question here is what do I feel for Ren?

My heart thudded heavily in response as I allowed myself to picture him. The way I felt when he held me. The way my heart skipped when he touched my wrist. The way I trembled when he looked at me. I closed my eyes and tried to center myself. Set my mind apart from my feelings and analyze the situation logically.

No. I am not the kind of person to do that to Kishan. I told him I
wouldn’t let him be alone again. Ren knew what he was doing even though he
couldn’t remember. He had his chance and he gave me away. Kishan deserves
to have his chance too. There. I’ve made my choice. My choice is to stay with
Kishan.

With my decision made, I turned the key to my heart. I locked my feelings for Ren away deep inside me and left only the part of my heart open that belonged to Kishan. I felt cramped and uncomfortable, like I was trying to breathe on only one lung, but I had just enough heart left to function. More than a sliver anyway. So what if the other part of my heart was pounding like I’d wrapped a tourniquet around it? So what if it was ready to burst and undo me utterly? So what if I felt limited, stifled? I could learn to adapt to it like Chinese girls who learn to walk on bound feet. Sure, it would be painful at first, but eventually I’d get used to it.

Heartstrings fully taut, binding my emotions in place, pinching me like tight stays on a corset, I pulled on some clothes and reluctantly made my way up to the wheelhouse. I stopped at Kishan’s door and cracked it open. He was sleeping, the sheets bunched around his waist. I walked over to the bed and smoothed the hair away from his face. He smiled in his sleep and turned over. I left him and headed for the elevator.

When I reached the glass door, I found a blue silk rose with a folded note taped to it. I pulled the paper off and opened the note. Inside was a pair of pearl earrings and a poem.

Know you, perchance, how that poor formless wretch—
The Oyster—gems his shallow moonlit chalice?
Where the shell irks him, or the sea-sand frets,
He sheds this lovely lustre on his grief.
—Sir Edwin Arnold

Let me keep my pearl.
—Ren

I crushed the note and jammed it into my pocket along with the earrings. Then I rode the elevator up and went to the wheelhouse where I found Mr. Kadam working furiously on some notes.

“What are you up to?” I asked.

“Kishan and I hit upon the answer to these markings on the sky disk.”

“Oh? What are they?”

“Kishan thinks they’re obstacles that lie between us and the other pagodas. And that the path shown is a way to weave around them safely.”

“Obstacles, huh? I wonder what made him think that,” I said dryly.

Mr. Kadam ignored my comment. “We are testing that theory now. We will be approaching the first marker in an hour or so. That’s why I’ve sent Kishan off to rest.”

“I see.” I made myself some waffles with the Golden Fruit and sat down next to Mr. Kadam as he worked.

“Are you feeling better, Miss Kelsey?”

“I … didn’t sleep well. Ren and I talked, and he does seem to remember everything now. But that only makes things more complicated.”

“Yes. I spoke with him at great length earlier this morning.”

I turned all my attention to my plate, swirling the carefully cut bites of waffle in the syrup. “I … don’t really want to talk about it right now, if that’s alright with you.”

“Of course it is. You may speak to me whenever you wish or not at all. I am always at your disposal.”

“Thanks for understanding.”

“Of course.”

An hour later, Kishan appeared with my jacket over his arm. He slipped it over my shoulders and turned to study the charts Mr. Kadam had been working on. Something crackled in my jacket pocket. I reached my hand inside and pulled out a paper. It was a sonnet. In fact, it was sonnet #116, which was usually one of my favorites.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
—William Shakespeare

“What’s wrong?” Kishan asked.

I shoved the note back into my pocket and blushed furiously.

“Nothing. I’ll, umm … be right back. Okay?”

“Okay. Hurry though. We’re almost there.”

“I will.”

I ran down the steps and slammed into Ren’s room as he was pulling a shirt over his head. “What exactly do you think you are doing?” I yelled.

He froze and then smiled disarmingly at me and lowered his shirt over his very nice chest. “Getting dressed. And good morning to you too. Now what’s all the yelling about?”

“I don’t know how you snuck this into my jacket, but you’ve got to stop.”

“What exactly did I sneak into your jacket?”

I thrust the crumpled paper into his hand. “This!”

He sat on the bed and opened the paper slowly, smoothing it out on his jean-clad thigh. I involuntarily squeaked as I realized I was mesmerized by his movements.

“It looks like a Shakespeare poem, Kells. You like Shakespeare so what’s the problem?”

“The
problem
is that I’m no longer entertaining poems from you.”

He leaned back and assessed me boldly, grinned, and said, “‘Was ever woman in this humour woo’d? Was ever woman in this humour won?’”

“Give it a rest, Shakespeare. I’m not a shrew to be tamed. Like I told you last night, I’m dating Kishan now.”

“Really?” He stood and stalked toward me.

All of a sudden I couldn’t breathe. I kept backing up until I hit the wall. He pressed his hands against it on either side of my head and leaned in close to me. I stubbornly thrust out my chin, refusing to be intimidated by him.

“Yes. I am. It’s a good thing I came here to talk with you about it anyway. I don’t want you … chasing me around or making things,” I swallowed thickly, “difficult.”

Ren laughed throatily and leaned closer to nuzzle my ear. “You like me to be …
difficult
.”

“
No
.” I groaned when he bit my earlobe. “I want my life to be simple and comfortable. And with Kishan, it will be.”

“You don’t
really
want something
simple
, do you Kelsey?” His lips pressed against the soft skin behind my ear, and I shivered. “Complication,” he began trailing slow, teasing kisses down my neck, “is what makes life,” he cupped the back of my neck and slid his hand into my hair, “exciting.”

I turned my face away, but he just took the opportunity to explore more of my exposed neck.

“Love
is
complicated,
iadala
. Mmm, you taste delicious. Do you know how good it feels to be able to touch you without pain? To kiss you?” He pressed tingling kisses along the length of my jaw, and whispered, “I want to drown in the pleasure of being close to you.”

I groaned and gripped his upper arms.
Speaking of drowning, I was
going under, and fast.
Blinking open my eyes, I grabbed his shoulders, faced him, and used all my strength to push him away, but he only backed off a few inches.

“That’s it, Ren. I mean it.
Read … my … lips.
I want
Kishan
. Not
you
.”

His eyes tightened, but then shone with a wicked gleam. “I thought you’d never ask.” Suddenly, he yanked me into his arms. One of his hands splayed against my back, and the other slipped into my hair. He angled my head and crushed his mouth against mine. Our bodies snapped together like two magnets. A driving wave of heat washed through me. I could have sworn I was drowning, and he was my life preserver. I was so desperate to cling to him, to become a part of him. His touch was familiar yet new. He was like the ocean, so vast, so full of life, so essential to the world.
So essential to
my
world
.

My arms slipped around his neck and held on, while he slid his hands up and down my back, pressing me closer. One arm locked around my waist and the other pressed against my middle back. He kissed me wildly, overwhelming me like a giant wave rushing to shore. I was soon lost in the turbulent grasp of his embrace and yet … I knew I was safe. His kiss drove me, pushed me, asked me questions I was unwilling to consider.

But I was cherished by this dark Poseidon, and though he had the power to crush me utterly, to drown me in the purple depths of his wake, he held me aloft, separate. His passionate kiss changed. It gentled and soothed and entreated. Together we drifted toward a safe harbor. The god of the sea set me down securely on a sandy beach and steadied me as I trembled.

Effervescent tingles shot through my limbs, delighting me with surges of sparkling sensation like sandy toes tickled by bubbly waves. Finally, the waves moved away, and I felt my Poseidon watching me from a distance. We looked at each other, knowing we were forever changed by the experience. We both knew that I would always belong to the sea and that I would never be able to part from it and be whole again.