Where the Lotus Flowers Grow (17 page)

I cleared my throat and began reading, trying to make up for my selfish actions long ago.

Liam

Mary looked uncomfortable and pissed. She went to the other side of the long rack that held an assortment of clothes.

“Since I didn’t know your size, she brought up three of each. I didn’t pick any of it out, but I’m sure the salesgirl was competent in her selections. It turns out the boutiques in our hotels have a better selection of women’s clothing than men’s pajamas. I asked her to mix up western and eastern clothing since you wear both.” No response. I stood in front of the long rack and bent my head. “Mary?”

She pushed back the clothes. The sound of metal hangers against the rack screeched like nails on a chalkboard. “You bought me clothes?” She looked at the bottom of the rack where an assortment of heels were lined up. “And shoes?”

“Is that an accusation or a question?”

“Why?”

“Because I want to take you out. Looking at the size of your bag, I doubt you have more than three outfits in there.”

“Think I don’t know how to do laundry? I was a maid, remember?”

“How can I forget when you remind me every two minutes?” I rubbed her arms. “I want to take you to nice places while we’re here. The nicest places.”

She blew out a frustrated breath, causing a strand of hair to flutter over her forehead. “This wasn’t part of our agreement.”

“I don’t recall this being one of your rules.”

“Well, I’m adding it.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late to amend our original agreement, Miss Costa.”

“I don’t want any of this. Why would you do this?”

“You’re right. What kind of bastard am I to purchase you anything? I’m a fucking monster.” Judging from her expression, my sarcasm was not appreciated.

“It’s not funny.”

“I promised you two things, and I’ll keep those promises. You bought me gifts, and I didn’t throw them back in your face. Now stop arguing with me and get ready. We have reservations.”

She stomped over to me, a fire raging in her dark brown eyes. “I have my own money.”

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hold her or spank her. Instead, I just smiled. “Perfect. You shall pay for dinner. Fair warning, I am not a cheap date. You better wine and dine me, girl, especially if you wish to get in my trousers tonight.”

Her mouth crinkled at the corners. “Did you say ‘trousers?’”

“I did. Pants…kind of an undistinguished word, don’t you think?”

“What is wrong with you? I am mad at you.”

“You’re crazy for me?”

“Mad as in angry.” The mouth curved a little more.

I pulled the first garment from the rack. “Then be mad at me in a sexy, low-cut dress.”

“You realize you’re holding a nightgown, right?”

I looked down at the sheer pink, gauzy fabric on the hanger. “Yeah, not this one.”

She snatched it from my hand. “I think it’s just the thing, Mr. Montgomery.”

“Now we’re talking.” I looked at my watch. “We have roughly an hour.”

“You misunderstand.” She held it over her body. “I am planning to wear this to dinner.”

I grabbed the hanger back. “Like hell you will.”

“Why not, sir?” She fluttered her thick eyelashes at me, faking innocence.

“Are you trying to turn me on or piss me off?”

“Trying to please you, sir. Sexy and low-cut is what you ordered.” Her hands ran down the fabric. “This fits the definition. Please excuse me.”

She was teasing me or maybe challenging me, but either way, this girl never ceased to shock me. She turned to head for the bathroom.

I grabbed her elbow. “No way in bloody hell you’re wearing that thing.”

She jabbed her finger against my chest. “Why not?”

I took the scrap of fabric and flung it across the room. The damn thing floated lightly in the air until it landed on the bed. Not quite the dramatic gesture I was aiming for. I gripped her arms. Her mouth parted, our anger fueling the sparks of lust between us. I circled my thumb across her skin.

“I’m a jealous man when it comes to you, Miss Costa.” I nodded toward the gauzy scrap of a garment. “You in that thing would bring my wrath on every man in the room. They would surely fall under your spell just as I have. In turn, I would have no choice but to use my fists to break whatever enchantments you cast on the male population of an extremely populated country. Regardless of my strength, I am certain I would sustain grave injuries. The outcome would be devastating for you. Don’t you agree?”

“Any injury to you would greatly upset me.”

“It’s you who misunderstands now, Miss Costa. The real tragedy is that my body will be far too bruised to properly pleasure you tonight. Now, do you really want to risk it?”

Her face moved forward, diminishing the gap between us. I pulled her against me, kissing her hard and without apology. I swallowed her moans and bit her lip. She melted in my arms, or maybe I did in hers. Whatever it was, I was grateful. We parted, both of us breathing hard, our lips chapped.

“No.”

A single word, but it robbed me of my sense. I had plunged headfirst from whatever tightrope we walked. “No?”

“No, I won’t risk my own pleasure.”

I gave her arse a playful spank. “Good. Now, put on a proper bloody dress. I’m taking my girl on the town tonight.”

It wasn’t exactly low-cut, but the simple black dress she chose did hug all her curves. Her long hair fell in silky waves around her. I led her to the hotel restaurant. It had a modern color scheme and had recently been rated one of the best cuisines in all of Mumbai. She emptied three glasses of wine to my one.

“Planning to get sloshed, Miss Costa?”

“Perhaps.”

“Where did you go this morning? I was worried about you.”

“I found a quiet spot to read.”

“There is a quiet spot in Mumbai?”

“Yes.” One word answers, all part and parcel of the nuanced language of furious female.

“You look beautiful.”

“Happy to meet your approval.” She looked around, sighed, and pushed the empty wine glass toward me for a refill. I obliged.

“How long?”

“How long what?”

“How long are you planning to stay in passive-aggressive mode? I thought we were over the clothes.”

“We are.”

“Then what is it?”

She leaned into the table, her voice a husky whisper. “Everyone is staring at us. They all know who I am and how we met.”

“I’m sure they do. Gossip spreads faster than the speed of light in any language in any country. Don’t let it bother you.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“I thought you didn’t care. That’s what you said when you chose to stay with me when I fell ill, isn’t it?”

“I could walk away from it then. We weren’t on display like zoo animals. We should have ordered room service.”

“That would have defeated the purpose. We’ve had enough meals locked away behind closed doors. I wanted to sit across from you and share a bottle of wine. To help you into your chair and make you laugh. I don’t give a damn what these people think. The only person whose opinion counts is yours.”

“I understand what you’re saying. But honestly, dressing me up and parading me in front of everyone is not a special evening to me. I am not your pretty woman.”

Mary was the proudest person I’d ever met. In fact, her pride was the thing I most admired about her at times.

This was not one of those times. “My pretty woman?”

“The movie.”

“I’m not familiar with the film.”

She smacked the table. “You’re joking. I’m Indian and I’ve seen it. Both the Hindi and English versions. Next thing, you’ll ask me to wear a red evening gown, present me with a diamond necklace, and take me to the opera.”

“Want a diamond necklace, Mary? Would you care to go to the opera? Do they have opera here?”

“Certainly not, no, and I doubt it.”

“Too bad. I think you’d enjoy it.” My jaw tightened. The waiter headed for our table. I waived him away.

“Liam…”

I drummed my fingers against the table. “What is it, Lotus Girl? Are you not going to let me kiss you on the lips now? That would be a very severe punishment, considering how much I love your mouth. Even when I hate the words coming out of it.”

Her fingers tightened around the stem of the glass. “You have seen the movie then.”

“Everyone has seen it. Your analogy is complete rubbish. You are not my whore. Call yourself anything you want. My lover, my companion, my muse, my friend. All appropriate terms, but this…this analogy is not. You insulted me, which is bad enough. What’s worse is you insulted yourself. That will not stand with me.”

She was quiet, taking small sips of her wine. “You’re right. I’m just not used to this.” She straightened in her chair, clasping her hands. “I’m sorry, Liam. Thank you for the clothes. They are lovely.”

“Welcome.”

I followed her gaze around the room. Several sets of eyes focused on us before turning away. “You’re right as well. Although my intentions were sincere, this was a bad choice. I never meant to put you in a humiliating position.” I stood and helped her from her chair. “We can order room service.”

Her hands clasped around mine. She gave me a real smile. “I’m all dressed up. You’re…well, as always you’re very dashing. We’re both starving. We should go out. Just not here, okay?”

I grinned. “I’d like that.”

We left the restaurant and the hotel. We weaved our way through humid air and crowded streets.

“We should have taken a car. We could have gone to the Taj and dined there.”

“The competition?” She giggled as if I’d made a joke, the effects of three glasses of quality Bordeaux.

I shrugged. “Why not? Either way, I hope we find something fast. I’m starved, and you, my love, are very drunk.”

She pouted. “Am not.”

“Baby, if you sway anymore, you’ll be doing a salsa. Not that I’m complaining.”

She spun around to face me. Her hands settled on her hips. “Sir, I swear I am sober.” Sir came out shure. Swear was shewar. Sober was shober. Hell, Mary managed a better Sean Connery than I did. She was battered and fried, this one.

“All the same, I’d like to get some food in you. Where shall we go?”

“I have no idea.”

“You’ve lived here. Surely, you have a recommendation.”

“I haven’t been here in years, and I’m sure the restaurants I frequented are not the same ones you’d choose.”

“Try me.”

She didn’t. Instead, she stopped another couple on the street. “Excuse me, can you recommend a nice restaurant in the area?”

“Chili’s,” the girl said. “The best food, and it’s just down this gully.”

Mary turned to me. “Chili’s, then?”

“It does sound exotic.”

Fifteen minutes later, we were being greeted by a waiter in a referee uniform, surrounded by walls covered in sports pendants. I laughed at the irony.

“What’s so funny?” Mary asked.

“This is the same exact Chili’s they have in New York.”

She looked around the room. “Really?”

“Right down to the numerous pins the wait staff wears. I wanted to take you to a five-star establishment, not my neighborhood bar and grill.”

The waiter set down the huge margarita in front of her and a beer for me. Her eyes widened as she sipped from the glass. “I’m happy with this.”

“You really think a margarita is a good idea? You’ve had a lot for someone who only partakes during communion.”

“You’re right. The liquor is really loosening my inhibitions.”

I leaned into the table. “Oh, yeah?”

“I want to rip off all the buttons of your shirt…with my teeth.”

I held up my hand to get our waiter’s attention. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Not sure. Either asking for the check or another round.”

She laughed, falling back in her chair. “I am sorry it wasn’t the exotic five-star cuisine you expected.”

“No worries, love. I planned a feast for later.”

“I hope I’m invited.”

“Darling, you are the main course.”

The rose color spread across her cheeks. She took a long sip of her margarita, licking the salt off her lips. “Next time, we’ll try something more ethnic. Pizza Hut, perhaps?”

I laughed so hard I sloshed my beer.

Mary

We crawled through Mumbai traffic. Liam took in every sight, looking awestruck at the massive crowds and architecture.

“Where are we going?” I asked. He hadn’t told me much, except that he wanted to show me something and asked me to dress conservatively. I wore a traditional cotton Salwar Kameez, which consisted of a long embroidered blue shirt and loose cotton pants.

“Just a place I want you to see. Actually, I want to see it, too.”

We pulled up to a large brick building. The sign over the gate read Community Center with smaller script beneath stating
auspices of Wilshire hotel
. Although the facade was unremarkable, walking inside was like stepping into the pages of a child’s coloring book. The walls were a sunny yellow, with renderings of clouds and children.

“What is this?”

“It’s sort of a catchall. The center offers classes to help women learn work skills. There is tutoring and art therapy for their children. I believe this mural was done by some of the students.” He touched the wall. “Pretty impressive.”

“It is. What types of classes do they offer?”

“All kinds. Basic reading and writing to computer skills. There are also craft classes in sewing and embroidery. If students show an interest in a subject, the center helps them in finding work. Or we pay for raw materials and assist them in setting up online businesses to sell their creations.”

We passed several classrooms where instruction was taking place.

“Mr. Montgomery, it’s wonderful to finally meet you,” a portly man said, practically running up to us. He shook Liam’s hand vigorously. “My name is Ram. Please sir, let me take you on the tour.”

“Thank you. This is Mary Costa.” The man shook my hand with the same vigor.

“You have no idea what good works you are doing here. Entire generations have hope because of you.”