Chapter 22

Twenty-Two

E than helped Tamara out of the rickshaw, holding her hand tightly. “You sure you don’t want me to come with you? I can always postpone this meeting?”

Tamara waved Ethan away. “Go take care of your business. I’ll meet you back at the hut later.”

“Not too much later.”

He pulled her in for a swift, scorching kiss that sizzled all the way to her toes, leaving her breathless as he winked and waved, heading for the nearest five star hotel.

She watched him until he was a tiny speck in the distance, a tall figure striding down the dusty road with long, determined steps of a man with things to do, places to be.

But he wasn’t running from her and that was a bonus, a big one. Since they’d had sex two nights ago, they’d spent every waking moment together. All the things she’d planned on doing, like eating at Souza Lobo’s and attending a full moon party, had been more special with Ethan by her side, sharing the experience.

As for the nights…exploring each others bodies, pleasuring each other, had surpassed expectations. Richard had been egotistical so it figured he’d been a selfish lover too.

But Ethan…thinking about the ways he gave her pleasure brought a blush to her cheeks.

Their time together had been beyond special. They were good together, really good. You couldn’t fake what they had.

An unexpected chill shimmied down her spine as she remembered how she’d faked a lot during her marriage, how easy it was to act one way while feeling another.

Ethan may be a player but surely he didn’t treat all his women this way? He’d said she was different, his actions speaking as loud as his words with the way he’d cherished her in Goa.

While she hadn’t gone into this expecting him to love her, now she’d fallen for him she couldn’t help but wish they could explore this further. He’d barrelled into her life when she’d least expected or wanted it but now she hoped he’d stay.

Needing a distraction from her thoughts, she stopped in front of a sari shop, pressed her hands to the dusty glass, and peered inside. Her mum had wanted her to wear a sari for fun, but she’d never had the occasion or the inclination. Besides, Richard would’ve had a fit if she’d paraded her ethnicity in front of his posh friends.

She’d overheard him once, boasting about her royal heritage or some such crap, implying she descended from a line of exotic East Indian princesses. She’d confronted him later and in typical fashion he’d laughed off her concerns, saying he had standards to live up to in the public eye and people liked that sort of thing.

She hadn’t, though. She’d hated it, and while she’d toed the line in the vain hope of making her marriage work, the lies he told never sat well with her. Lies far more poisonous and extending further than she’d ever thought possible considering what came to light after his death.

Making an impulsive decision to buy one more souvenir of her memorable time here, she pushed open the door and stepped into the welcome coolness of the shop.

“ Namaste . Can I help you?” An older woman placed her palms together and gave a little bow, the woman’s sightless eyes homing in on Tamara with unerring accuracy, as she wondered how a blind woman could assist customers in a shop filled with so much vibrant colour.

“Yes, thanks, I’m looking for a sari.”

“Anything in particular?”

She shook her head, belatedly realising the woman couldn’t see her. “I’ve never worn a sari before.”

“But it is in your blood.”

Tamara’s eyebrows rose. How could the woman know her background? Even if she could see, Tamara’s light olive skin, green eyes, and black hair could be any nationality.

“You are after something like this.” A statement rather than a question as the woman ran her hands along countless silk and chiffon saris until she hovered over one, in the palest of mint greens.

Tamara’s breath caught as the woman held it up, the exquisite length of material catching the sunlight filtering through the front window, the sari shimmering like the iced peppermint milkshakes she’d loved as a kid.

It was perfect, something she’d never imagine wearing, yet with the shop filled with so many dazzling combinations, she should have a look around rather than grab the first thing on offer. Probably the most expensive sari in the shop and the woman thought she’d be foolish enough to pounce on it.

“Actually, I’m not sure what I want.”

The sari slid through the woman’s fingers like quicksilver as she turned her head towards her. “I think you do.”

A ripple of unease puckered her skin as she registered the woman wasn’t talking about the sari. She knew India was big on legends, myths, and superstitions. Her mum had told her many stories of ghosts and mysterious happenings, but as far as Tamara was concerned, her superstitious nature extended to a quick glance at the daily horoscopes in the morning newspaper, and only then for a laugh.

But here, now, standing in this ancient shop, the heady fragrance of neroli and saffron in the air, surrounded by the soft swish of silk as the woman continued to run her hands over the saris, she could almost believe there was something otherworldly at play.

“The sari is beautiful but—”

“You are searching for many things. For love. For a home. For yourself.”

Another shiver ran through her. Okay, this was getting too spooky. The woman was scarily accurate, though her predictions had been pretty generic. What tourist wouldn’t be on a quest, searching for something, if only a good time?

“You have love,” the woman said in an eerie monotone. “But all is not as it seems.”

She got that right. Since when was anything in Tamara’s life simple?

“You will face many obstacles on your path to true happiness.”

More generic stuff and she’d had enough.

“Actually, that sari’s perfect.” Checking out the price tag, she sagged with relief. “I’ll take it.”

She thrust money towards the woman, somewhat chastened when she shook her head, sadness creasing her face.

Great, she’d offended the soothsayer. Who knew what fortune she’d get now?

“You will face trials, recross oceans, to find true happiness.”

Giving the woman money and all but yanking her purchase out of her hands hadn’t stopped the predications so she better make a run for it.

“Thank you.” Tamara had her hand on the door handle, eager to leave, when the woman stopped her with a low groan that raised the hackles on her neck.

“Take care, my dear. You will need to be on the lookout for false happiness.”

Okay, enough was enough. She bolted from the shop, wishing she could outrun her doubts. As if she wasn’t filled with qualms already, she had some crazy fortune teller fuelling her insecurities.

This is why she didn’t pay attention to superstitious nonsense. Yet no matter how hard she tried to forget the woman’s predications on the walk back to the hut, she couldn’t help but feel the woman had voiced some of her concerns.

Was her relationship with Ethan too good to be true?

Was it all a mirage, a vacation romance, a false happiness that would collapse once they returned to Melbourne?

She’d talked herself into believing what they had was real. She was good at that, convincing herself to see things in a positive light no matter how dire they were. She was an expert considering she’d done it for most of her marriage.

There was a huge difference between faking happiness and experiencing the real thing and while this last week with Ethan had shown her the difference, she couldn’t banish her doubts.

However, she’d come so far. Over the past year she would’ve wallowed in them, let them drag her down. Not any longer. Taking this trip had not only boosted her esteem, fuelled her confidence, and encouraged her to take risks she never thought possible, she’d also become an optimist. Looking on the bright side was much more liberating than brooding and for now, she’d take each day as it came with Ethan.

As for what happened in Melbourne, she’d find out soon enough. They were due to fly back tomorrow. Back to the real world. Back to a new life for her. She had a job to find, apartment hunting to solidify a fresh start, and a new beginning with Ethan.

Ethan, the man she’d fallen in love with.

Her friend, her lover, her soulmate.

Her mum had been right. Every person had a soul mate and Tamara had taken a detour on the way to finding hers.

They could have a future together, a good one.

This time, she wouldn’t settle for anything less.