‘What...?’ Her voice was even softer than before, her brown eyes wide.
‘We’re going to walk to the nearest station and catch a goods train, and then take a taxi back to the villa. Then we’re going to resume where we’ve just left off and this time we are not going to stop.’ He paused. ‘How does that sound?’
He realised he was holding his breath as she tipped her head to one side, and then she smiled a smile that lit her face and ignited a warmth that spread across his chest.
‘That sounds perfect. I just hope the goods train is fast.’
Frederick shook his head. ‘Anticipation is half the fun.’ He held out his hand. ‘Let’s go.’
* * *
‘Anticipation is half the fun.’
Sunita wasn’t so sure of that. As they walked alongside the train tracks anticipation streamed through her veins, causing her tummy to cartwheel and her pulse-rate to soar. Was that fun?
It was hard to tell—her whole body felt tight with need, a yearning that it would now be impossible to quell, and truth to tell she didn’t want to. She glanced down at their clasped hands, at the strength of his profile, the jut of his jaw, the lithe assurance he walked with, the whole time aware of his own scrutiny, the desire that warmed his hazel eyes when they rested on her.
They talked—of course they did. Of films and books and politics...of cabbages and kings...but the words seemed to be filtered through a haze of awareness that glistened in the air alongside the sunlit drops of rain that sparkled from the lush leaves.
Their ascent onto a goods train seemed almost surreal as they travelled amidst the bulky cargo, and she gazed out over the variegated greens of paddy fields, the swoop of the Goan valleys, the shimmering grey of the sky, where clouds swelled and perfumed the air with the promise of rain. All the while, even as her senses stored away Nature’s munificent beauty, they also revelled in Frederick’s proximity, in the knowledge that soon—soon—they would be together, that for a time at least he would be hers.
Careful!
She must not let this get out of perspective, make it into any more than it was. This was a benefit of their marriage deal—a benefit that could be taken or left at will. This was physical—no more no less—and the only reason she was so on edge was because she hadn’t felt like this for two years. Not since that night when all her principles had been abandoned and she’d tumbled into bed with him.
‘Hey.’
She turned to see his hazel eyes rest on her face.
‘You OK? We don’t have to do this, you know? We have a lifetime ahead of us...’
But not like this—not as Frederick and Sunita. Today meant something different—she couldn’t explain how she knew it, but she knew with soul-wrenching certainty that this was the case.
‘I know, but I want this now, today...’ She grinned suddenly. ‘There is only so much anticipation a girl can take.’
His answering grin removed all doubts; it was a smile she remembered from two years ago, boyish, happy, and she hadn’t seen it once in the past few days.
‘It’ll be worth it. I promise.’
And as the train slowed to a stop she had no doubt that this was a promise she could rely on.
Twenty minutes later they arrived back at the villa and alighted from the taxi. She glanced around almost furtively, not wanting to meet Deepali or Ashok or anyone. Hand in hand, they practically tiptoed through the garden... And if Deepali did spot them she remained discreetly hidden and they reached Sunita’s bedroom safely.
Once inside, she moved to the window and pulled the blackout shutters closed, then turned and moved towards Frederick with an urgency more than matched by his own as he strode forward and pulled her so she was flush against the hard promise of his body.
‘The anticipation was great,’ she murmured. ‘But now it’s got old.’
His laugh held a breathless quality. ‘Tell me about it!’
And with that he tumbled her back onto the bed, and after that all coherent thought evaporated as sensation took over. The feel of his lips on hers, his taste, his touch against her sensitised skin—all caused her to moan in unabashed joy. His skin under her fingers, his shudder of pleasure, his voice whispering her name, the shucking of clothes, the urgency and the exquisite gentleness, the awe and the laughter and desire such as she had never known, all created a waving, pulsing sense that carried them higher and higher...
* * *
Hours later she opened her eyes, realising that she was being gently shaken awake, a hand on her shoulder. His hand. She blinked sleepily, and then sat up as the glorious dream dissipated. Frederick stood back from the bed—fully clothed, she noted with a fuzzy disappointment.
‘Hey...’ she said.
‘Hey. Everyone’s back—we need to show our faces before they wonder where we are.’