Chapter 2

Two

“ W hat the hell are you doing here?”

Ethan grinned at Tamara’s shell-shocked expression as he strolled towards her on the platform at Safdarjung Station.

“You mean here as in New Delhi or here as in this station?”

Her eyes narrowed, spitting emerald fire. “Don’t be a smart-ass. Why are you here?”

“Business. I told you I’m a workaholic.” He shrugged. “The Delhi chef wasn’t interested in my job offer, so there’s a chef in Udaipur I’d like to lure to Ambrosia . Rather than commute by boring planes, I thought I’d take the scenic route, so here I am.”

By her folded arms, compressed lips, and frown, his glib response didn’t impress her.

“And your business happened to coincide with my trip.” Her eyes narrowed. “How convenient.”

“Pure coincidence.” He couldn’t keep the grin off his face, which only served to rile her further. “If it makes you feel any better, it’s a big train and the trip only lasts a week.”

“It doesn’t make me feel better.”

If everyday Tamara was beautiful, furious Tamara was stunning, and vindicated why he booked this trip in the first place.

It was time.

He was done waiting.

“Why don’t we stop quibbling and enjoy the fanfare?” He gestured at the commotion on the platform, mustering his best persuasive smile.

Her lips remained in a thin, unimpressed line and he thought she’d never relent, but after shooting him another exasperated glare, she turned towards their welcoming committee.

“Pretty impressive, huh?” He asked.

She nodded, her continued silence disconcerting. He preferred her annoyed and fiery than quiet and brooding.

Only one way to get her out of this huff. Turn up the charm.

“Just think, all this for you. Talented musicians playing tabla as you board the train, young Indian girls placing flower garlands around your neck, being greeted by your own personal bearer for your carriage. Nothing like a proper welcome.”

The beginnings of a smile softened her lips as one of the bearers placed a fancy red turban on his head as a gift.

“Looks like I’m not the only one getting welcomed.”

The turban wobbled as he did a precarious balancing act and she finally laughed.

“Okay, you can stay.”

He executed a fancy little bow and she held up a hand.

“But remember, I like being on my own.”

He didn’t. Being alone was highly over-rated and something he’d been compensating for since he earned his first pay-cheque.

He liked being surrounded by people, liked the bustle of the business world, liked dating beautiful women.

Most of all, he liked being in control, and finally, he was in control of the situation with Tamara.

He’d kept his distance while Richard was alive, had respected his friend’s marriage. But Rich was gone and Ethan’s attraction to this incredible, vibrant woman was stronger than ever.

He wanted her—had wanted her from the first moment they met—and had avoided her because of it.

Not any more.

This trip would be perfect for getting to know each other, perfect for showing her there was more to him than business.

Tapping his temple, he said, “I’ll try to remember you prefer being alone. But this heat can play havoc with one’s memory and I might forget—”

“Let’s board.” A smile tugged at her mouth. “Once you’re ensconced in the lap of luxury, maybe your memory will return.”

“You make me sound like a snob.”

“Aren’t you? Being Australia’s top restaurateur and all.” She snapped her fingers and smiled. “Oh, that’s right. You’re just the average run of the mill billionaire who happens to rival top restaurants around the world. Nothing snobby about you.”

“Come on, funny girl. Time to board.”

She stuck out her tongue and as he picked up their hand luggage and followed the porter he could hardly believe the change in Tam.

Sure, there was still a hint of fragility about her, a glimpse of sorrow clinging to her like the humidity, but India agreed with her. After she finished berating him she’d smiled more in the last few minutes than she had in the last six months.

“You know I have my own compartment?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

“I wouldn’t want you compromising my reputation.”

She smiled again and something twanged in the vicinity of his heart. She had the ability to do that to him from the very beginning, from the first time he met her—an hour after she’d met Richard, worse luck.

She’d been smitten by then, with eyes only for the loud, larger than life chef and Ethan had subdued his controlling instincts to sweep her away.

Neither Rich or Tam had known about his desire for the woman he couldn’t have; he’d made sure of it.

But keeping his distance was a thing of the past and the next seven days loomed as intriguing.

“Your reputation is safe with me. I’m sure all those society heiresses and models you date on a revolving door basis are well aware this boring old widow is no competition.”

“You’re not boring and you’re certainly not old.”

As for the women he dated, there was a reason he chose the no commitment, out-for-a-good-time-not-a-long-time type. A damn good one.

The smile hovering about her lips faded as fast as his hopes to keep it there.

“But I am a widow.”

While he’d hated seeing her go through so much pain after Richard died and her struggle to get her life back on an even keel, he couldn’t help but be glad she was now single.

Did that make him heartless? Maybe, but his past had taught him to be a realist, and he never wasted time lying to himself or others. Discounting keeping his attraction for Tam a secret all these years.

She cocked her head to one side, studying him. “You were friends with Richard, yet we rarely talked when our paths crossed. Why is that? It was almost like you avoided me.”

Dread settled like overcooked Beef Wellington in the pit of his stomach, solid and heavy, discomfort assured.

He’d known they’d have this conversation one day, surprised it had taken her this long to ask, and wishing it wasn’t here, now, on a crowded train platform as she was about to embark on a much-needed vacation.

“Avoid is pretty harsh.”

“You don’t think it fits?”

What could he say? That he’d wanted her so badly he’d dated a few lookalikes? That he’d been so envious of Richard he’d taken a month off from the restaurant when they’d married? That he couldn’t look at the two of them together without wanting to hit something in frustration?

“I wasn’t avoiding you.” He wanted to take hold of her hand. Instead, he thrust his into his pockets. “I’m sorry if you felt that way. I’m a busy man. We moved in the same social circles occasionally but I was usually schmoozing or courting business deals at those events to make chit chat. Forgive me?”

She didn’t buy it. He could see it in the arched eyebrows, the skepticism in her eyes. Tam was too smart for his lame excuses and he grasped at the first thing that popped into his head to divert her attention from the truth.

“Besides, Rich always monopolised you. A guy couldn’t get near the most beautiful woman in the room.”

To his horror, her eyes filled with pain. The sheen of tears hit him hard, like a slug to the gut, and he tugged her close, enveloping her in his arms in an instant.

“Hell, Tam, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be bringing Rich up now, not when you’re trying to escape your grief.”

She braced against his chest, her palms splayed, and his body reacted in an instant, heat searing his veins as he cradled a soft, armful of woman.

She sniffled and he tightened his hold, rather than his first instinct to release her in the hope to put an instant dampener on his errant libido.

His hand skimmed her hair, thick and dark like molten molasses, soothing strokes designed to comfort. But hot on the heels of his awareness of her as a woman, a woman he’d love to hold like this all night long, his palm tingled and his fingers itched to delve into the shiny, dark mass and get caught up in it.

“You okay?” He pulled away, needing to establish some distance between them rather than scare her away before they’d even started.

“Uh-huh.”

She managed a watery smile before straightening her shoulders and lifting her head in the classic coping pose he’d seen her exhibit many times before and his admiration shot up another few notches.

How she handled her grief after the initial shock of Rich’s heart attack, burying herself in the business side of things, sorting through legalities, only to approach him several months later for use of Ambrosia to get her career back on track, had served to fuel his respect for this amazing woman.

Tamara was incredible and he wanted her with a staggering fierceness that clawed at him even now, when he should be protecting and soothing.

“I can see you’re still hurting, but if you ever want to talk about Rich, remember the good times, I’m here for you, okay?”

Maybe if she opened up to him, he could encourage her to get it all out of her system and move on. Highly altruistic, but he firmly believed it would do her the world of good.

To his surprise, she wrinkled her nose and he knew it had little to do with the pungent odours of diesel fumes, spices, and human sweat swirling around them.

“Honestly? I don’t want to talk about Richard. I’m done grieving.”

A spark of defiance lit her eyes, turning them from soft moss green to sizzling emerald in a second. “I want to enjoy this trip, then concentrate on my future.”

He’d never seen her like this: resolute, determined, a woman reborn.

He’d seen Tam the society wife, the perfect hostess, the astute businesswoman, the grieving widow, but never this defiant, and a part of him was glad. Releasing the past was cathartic, would help her to move on, and he really wanted her to do that this trip.

With him.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he said, managing to sound sedate when he wanted to whoop for joy if she’d assigned Richard to her past.

Her answering smile sent another sizzle of heat through him and he clenched his hand to stop from reaching out and pulling her close.

Plenty of time for that.