9
Kishan
With no word of Lokesh, and thankfully, nothing out of the ordinary happening, I loosened up enough to enjoy the annual Valentine’s dance. The night would be fun, and all the proceeds would go toward funding the Jensen Arctic Museum.
Ren pulled a garment bag out of my closet and hung it on the bathroom door.
“What’s this, Tiger? You think you can choose what I’m going to wear now, huh?”
“I like you in anything you wear.” He pulled me into a tight hug. “But, I’ve wanted to see you in this dress. Will you wear it tonight?”
I snorted. “You probably want me to wear it because I haven’t worn it on a date with anyone else. You can’t stand the peach dress now because you say it smells like Li even after it’s been dry-cleaned.”
“The peach dress is lovely on you, and I picked it out especially for you. But, you’re right. It reminds me of Li, and I want tonight to be only about us.” He kissed my cheek. “I’ll pick you up for dinner in two hours. Don’t make me wait too long.”
“I won’t.”
He touched his forehead to mine and added softly, “I hate to be apart from you.”
After he left, I took a hot shower, wrapped a towel around my head and a robe around my body. Unzipping the garment bag, I found a claret-red chiffon dress with a trumpet skirt and double flutter sleeves. It was a wrap-dress style that tied at the side of my waist. A box on the floor contained strappy red shoes.
I sighed. What is the obsession that men have with strappy shoes?
Now that I had a billion lipsticks, I easily found one that matched my dress. I spent a long time with a curling iron twisting my hair into long ringlets that I swept up with jewel-studded combs, leaving a few loose to curl around my ears. I applied makeup and even had time to paint my fingers and toes with red polish to match.
Ren rang the doorbell, trying to be formal. I opened it and gasped softly. My warrior-archangel wore a brilliant white shirt with a gray vest and a red satin tie with a four-in-hand knot that matched my dress. His black tuxedo jacket was thrown casually over his shoulder, and his hair fell appealingly over one eye. He looked like a supermodel that had just stepped off the pages of GQ.
I suddenly felt like a little girl playing dress-up compared to him. I could imagine every girl at the dance wanting to reach up and brush his hair off his forehead.
Ren smiled, and my heart dropped down into my shoes where it flopped like a fish out of water. From behind his back, he brought out a bouquet of two dozen red roses. He stepped inside and put them in a vase of water he’d already prepared.
“Ren! You can’t expect me to go to a dance with you looking like that! You’re bad enough when you dress normal!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Kelsey.” He reached up and pulled lightly on one of my spiral curls, tucking it delicately behind my ear. “Nobody will even notice me when I’m standing next to you.
You look absolutely lovely. Now can I give you your Valentine’s present?”
“You didn’t need to get me anything else, Ren. Believe me, you are present enough.”
He pulled a jewelry box out of his pocket and opened it for me. Inside was a pair of diamond and ruby drop earrings set in gold starbursts.
I whispered, “They’re beautiful!”
He helped me take them out of the box. I liked the feel of them dangling from my ears and tapping against my face when I turned my head.
I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. “Thank you. I love them.”
“Why do I see a ‘but’ in your expression?”
“The ‘but’ is that you really don’t need to buy me expensive things. I’m perfectly happy with normal, average things like . . . socks.”
He scoffed, “Socks are hardly a romantic present. This is a special occasion. Don’t spoil my night, Kells. Just tell me that you love me and that you love the earrings.”
I reached up, wrapped my arms around his neck, and smiled at him. “I love you. And . . . I love my earrings.”
His face lit up in an achingly beautiful smile, and my heart flopped around again.
I picked up his gift from the desk and handed it to him.
“It’s pretty lousy when you compare it with earrings and roses. It turns out rich tigers are hard to shop for.”
He tore through the paper, and there was my lame present, a book.
I explained, “It’s called The Count of Monte Cristo. It’s about a man who was falsely accused and put in prison for a long time, and then he escapes and seeks revenge against his accusers. It’s a very good story that made me think of you being in captivity for hundreds of years. I thought we could take a break from Shakespeare and maybe read it together.”
“It’s a perfect gift. Not only are you offering me a new piece of literature, which you know I appreciate, but you’re also offering me hours and hours of reading with you, which is the best gift you could give me.”
With scissors, I clipped a rosebud from the bouquet and tucked it into his lapel. Then we were off to dinner, which had been arranged in a private dining room.
After we were seated and waited on by no less than three personal servers, I whispered, “A normal restaurant would have been perfectly fine for me.”
“A normal restaurant is where hundreds of men are taking their hundreds of dates tonight. It’s not special or private. I wanted to have you all to myself.”
Ren captured my hand and kissed it. “It’s my first Valentine’s date with the girl I love. I wanted to see you sparkle in the candlelight. Speaking of which . . .” He pulled a sheet of paper from the lapel of his jacket and handed it to me.
“What’s this?” I opened it and recognized his handwriting. “You wrote me a poem?”
He grinned. “I did.”
“Will you read it to me?”
He nodded and took the page. He began speaking, and the timbre of his voice warmed me. He read . . .
I lit a candle and watched the flame.
It danced and twisted
Wild and unfettered.
It captured me and flickered in my eyes.
When I passed my hand over it
It stirred.
The flame rose higher, burned hotter.
When I pulled my hand away the heat diminished,
grew fainter, and extinguished.
I stretched out my hand again to savor the burn.
Would it singe and scald? Blister and blaze?
No! It tingled and warmed,
Smoldered and glowed,
Setting me ablaze, body and soul.
It was glimmering, luminous, radiant
The fiery blush of her cheek.
—Ren
He ducked his head as if embarrassed at the beautiful words. I stood up and walked around to his side of the table. I twisted my way onto his lap and put my arms around his neck. “It’s beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful.”
“I’d kiss you, but I’d get lipstick all over you and then what would the waitress say?”
“She can say whatever she wants.”
“I’m fighting a losing battle, aren’t I?”
“Yes. I plan on kissing you . . . a lot, before this night is over.”
“I see. So I might as well get on with it then. Wouldn’t you say?”
“I would definitely say you should.”
We kissed, and I became so oblivious to everything except Ren that I didn’t hear the waitress come back in. My face burned bright red.
Ren laughed quietly. “Don’t worry. I’ll leave her a big tip.”
The waitress approached our table as I awkwardly removed myself from Ren’s lap. To my horror, the bottom half of his face was smeared with red lipstick. I could only imagine what my face looked like. Ren didn’t care at all.
I sped off to fix my face and asked him to order dinner. By the time I returned, the food was waiting. Ren rose to hold out my chair as I sat and leaned over to press his cheek against mine.
I played with my new earrings distractedly. Ren noticed.
“You don’t like them?”
“I think they’re lovely, but I feel really guilty about you spending this kind of money on me. I think you should take them back to the store tomorrow. Maybe they’ll let you just pay a rental fee.”
“We’ll talk about it later. For now, I just want to enjoy seeing you wear them.”
After dinner, we drove to the dance. Ren swept me out on the floor and twirled me around. Holding me close, he never took his eyes off me as he spun me to the music. He was so distractingly handsome that I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him either.
He hummed along to a song called “My Confession.”
Smiling, I admitted, “This song describes how I feel about you. It took a long time for me to confess how I feel about you, even to myself.”
He listened more carefully to the words then smiled. “I’ve known how you felt about me since that kiss before we left Kishkindha. The one you got really mad about.”
“Oh, the one you thought was enlightening?”
“It was enlightening because that’s when I knew. I knew that you felt as strongly about me as I did about you. You can’t kiss a man like that and not be in love with him, Kells.”
I reached up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “So that’s why you were so cocky and self-assured after that.”
“Yes. But all that bluster went away after you left.”
His expression became serious. He kissed my fingers, pressed my hand to his chest, and said intently, “Promise me you’ll never leave me like that again, Kelsey.”
I looked up into his cobalt blue eyes and said, “I promise. I’ll never leave you again.”
His lips brushed against mine lightly. Suddenly, he smiled mischievously, twirled me away, and then yanked me tightly against his chest. He slid his arm behind my back and lowered me slowly in a circular dip. Snapping me up quickly, we began moving to the tango music, and Ren maneuvered me smoothly along with the Latin rhythm of the song.
I knew people were probably watching us, but at that point, I didn’t care. He was able to sweep through the moves expertly, even though I didn’t know what I was doing. The dance was fiery and passionate, and I was quickly overwhelmed by him and the cadence of the melody. He wrapped me up in a blanket of mental and physical sensations, orchestrating the perfect seduction.
When the song was over, he had to hold me up because my legs had turned to gelatin. He laughed and nuzzled my neck, happy with my reaction.
The song changed back to a normal, slow one. After I had recovered enough from his tantalizing onslaught against my senses to speak, I said, “I thought that kind of dancing only happened in the movies.
Where did you learn to dance like that?”
“My mother taught me several traditional forms of dancing, and then I picked up a lot of moves over the years by watching. Mr. Kadam hooked me up with Nilima, who became my practice partner.”
I frowned. “I don’t really like the idea of you dancing with Nilima. If you want to practice, teach me.”
“Nilima is like a sister to me.”
“Still.”
“Alright, I promise to never dance with another woman.” He smiled. “Though, I still like it when you’re jealous.”
We started slow dancing again, and I put my head on his shoulder, closed my eyes, and just let myself enjoy the feeling of being held by him. The song was only halfway over when I felt him stiffen and saw him look behind me.
“Well . . . well . . . well,” a silky, familiar voice interrupted. “The shoe’s on the other foot this time. I believe this is my dance.”
I spun around. “Kishan? I’m so happy to see you!” I threw my arms around him.
The golden-eyed prince folded me in his arms, pressed his cheek against mine, and said, “I’m happy to see you too, bilauta.”