Nights of Roshan (7 page)

His mother mouthed at him, “Fertile!” And gave him a double-handed wave at waist level. Neiri sent him a confused look.

“One night,” Roshan commanded. “Then you all go. You’re not interfering with Neiri’s Christmas.”

His mother pressed her hands together and bowed, her lips curved knowingly. “Of course. You won’t hear a peep.”

“Nice to meet you,” Neiri ventured.

“I hope you mean that, young lady,” his mother warned. “I’ll remind you what you said in future.”

Roshan turned Neiri to the lifts, pushing her away from his interfering and Christmas-ruining mother. “Where are we going?”

“Upstairs,” he said, tapping in the code for the elevator. “I need to remove a few memories. You’re good at that.”

She blinked and looked around his shoulder. “We both may need to work overtime on that.”

All too true.

Endless nights…

Neiri woke Roshan up by bouncing on the bed. “Christmas! Good morning!”

He cracked open an eye then shocked the devil out of her soul by roaring at full volume. Neiri glanced down and saw his tail crushed beneath her knee. “Holy fuck, I’m so sorry.” She gently stroked it, her face contorted in sympathetic pain. Her poor little tiger. The beast scowled at her, ice blue eyes glowering with resentment. “You nearly cracked those windows, making so much noise.”

“That hurt,” he grunted. She soothingly rubbed his sore tail, her mouth turning down at the corners in pity.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re not sneezing,” he reminded her on an irritable grunt.

Good point. She didn’t even feel the tiniest tickle in her nose. “Fancy that.” Smiling, she pressed her lips to his injured tail and jumped off the bed. Even in wariness at the tiger bash happening in their pool, Neiri hadn’t heard a peep from any of them and to be fair, wondered what on earth Roshan had been so worried about. “I’ve got gifts. So, you can stay here and whinge about your tail, which looks fine, I barely caught you, or you can come and see what I’ve bought you.”

Shifting, Roshan got to his feet and caught her by the arm. “Good morning, and that,” he tapped her lightly on the bare buttocks, “is for my tail.”

She sent him an arch look. “If you’re going to do that, don’t tease. Do it properly. But not now. Presents!”

Roshan wrapped a robe around his frame as Neiri dived into a nightgown she’d tucked into her bag then dashed to the tree. Neiri felt the waves of weariness flowing from him. He probably wanted to go back to sleep. The darling man was her substitute parent for the day. Being woken up at an ungodly hour for presents and getting trod on in the excitement. Grinning, Neiri skidded over the marble floors to the Christmas tree. It looked as wonderfully inviting as it did in her own home. Crossing her legs in front of her, Neiri scooped her pretty, wrapped gifts into her lap.

“Okay, so some are from work, some from friends, and my brothers sent their presents early because they had an idea I’d be stuck here.” She waved a hand towards the other gifts. “I suppose those are yours.” She’d peeked at the tags to see if any were from women. Those were in the bin. He didn’t need any presents from women. Cheeky, maybe. Possessive? Entirely. Short of peeing around the building, she’d made herself pretty clear.

“Hmm,” Roshan agreed. She glanced over at him and saw him rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Do you want coffee at least?”

“Oh, my God, yes.” She tore open the wrapping for one gift. Beautiful! She’d been eyeing that brooch in a magazine only a few weeks ago. The dental nurse who’d only started work with the clinic in August had bought it for her. “Look at that! Nice little brooch.”

Roshan drew his hands over her hair, tilting her head back. “Neiriouri. Do you want some coffee?”

She sent him a goofy grin. “Yes, please.” Pouting at him, she stayed back until he pecked her on the lips. “I’m like this every Christmas. I just love presents.”

He pecked her again and disappeared to the kitchen. Neiri poured through her other gifts. Hand cream. Some chocolates from Belgium. Oh, they were from Adil.
Adil
!
That was his name. Good lord. She threw them to the side. No bad karma for her. Her brothers were going to regret what they’d bought her when they saw the gifts she’d sent. Lazy bastards. She turned around when she heard Roshan padding back into the living space, carrying a tray overflowing with baked goods. She held up a bright yellow bikini. “Isn’t this nice?”

“Very. What else did you get?”

“Hand cream, some vouchers for my favourite spa. And my brothers aren’t getting anything from me the rest of the year. They all got me a bottle of the same perfume. So I have four bottles. Good thing it’s my favourite.”

Neiri watched him set the tray down and pour himself a large cup of coffee. “Have you opened my present?”

She froze. His what? “You didn’t get me anything.”

“Two things,” he said, voice smooth with assurance her. “Look again.”

She fished under the tree and picked up a glossy obsidian box. “For me?” He nodded. “Do you know how rubbish I would have felt if I hadn’t bought you anything?”

He raised his coffee cup to her. “How about you open it before you make such sweeping statements of gratitude?”

She stuck her tongue out at him before turning back to the box. Her heart stopped beating for a long moment then raced in her heart. On a bed of gold satin that seemed almost liquid, sat a string of diamonds in black and ice white. It had to be the most beautiful piece of jewellery she’d ever touched. “You can’t give me this.”

“Put it on,” he told her firmly, biting his way through two croissants. “Then tell me I can’t.”

With a shake of her head, she dazedly wrapped around the black and white diamond strand. It looped around her wrist three times, like a crystallised binding. “It’s so glorious. Thank you.”

She traced the knotted catch and each of the diamonds that striped the strand of jewels.
Variations on a tiger
, she thought. Apart from her engagement ring, and the pearl earrings her parents gave her on her twenty-first birthday, the strand of diamonds could be classed as her only real piece of jewellery. She stayed still, fingertips tapping the corners of each diamond until the lump in her throat dispersed.

“Open the other one,” Roshan said into the quiet. “It the one that looks like a card.”

Warily, she reached under the tree to a long, oyster-coloured envelope. It felt heavy with papers. Unfolding and reading through them, Neiri’s present-orientated mind lost the plot. “What do you…? What? How can you be giving buildings away?”

“I told you, you don’t owe me anything. Besides,” he added, “you may prefer the room.”

Neiri’s face scrunched up in confusion. “What? What? Do you mean for all those grandchildren you want to give to my parents?”

Roshan carefully placed his cup on the tray. “Tigers tend to have litters.”

In the name of her last non-Roshan infected brain cell, what was he on about? “How many are you talking about?”

“Two. Six. Three.” He shrugged. “Varies.”

No. She couldn’t really cope with the notion of having a bunch of mini Roshans as well as him providing paperwork that required only her signature for the building, the entire building down to the tropical paradise pool, to be hers under the law and the Queen. She waved the papers at him. “Why would you do this?”

“Every goddess,” he said gently, “deserves a temple. This is yours.”

“Even if I want to redecorate?” She wouldn’t. Even. Dare. But one had to test the tiger. A little bit.

He looked so calm and completely unruffled by the suggestion. “If you must.”

“And do you come with the building as chattel or what?”

He breathed through his nose, stifling a laugh. “Only if that’s what you want.”

“Do you want?”

“I do. More than you know.”

With her heart battering her ribcage, Neiri stood and slowly made herself comfortable in his lap. “You do make this place more fun.”

He smiled at her, eyes sparkling with amusement. “I am but your humble servant.”

She stroked her hands over his face, leaning forward to kiss him. Her attention was diverted outside. “The hell is that?” Roshan’s gaze followed her arched finger to the clouded skies of London. In the mist, surrounded by clouds like a William Blake in motion, a red dragon circled the skies.

“You can see all of us now.”

Her eyebrows snapped together. “Is it the bracelet?” Her eyes widened in realisation. “It’s magical, isn’t it?”

He burst out laughing. “No, it’s just you.” Neiri felt slightly deflated until the dragon’s movements stole her breath. It was nearly as beautiful as her tiger. She touched the glass, following the dragon’s path with a fingertip. “The world you live in…”

“It’s not that exciting. This is a one off. Special for the holidays.” He squeezed her around the middle. “An extra present for you.”

“Got to be a coincidence.”

“If you say so,
umri.
”

The man under her bottom had her full attention for that one, four-letter word. “You know what that means, right?”

“I told you all the languages I speak. And yes, I know what it means. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” He couldn’t do. Men said that word to their soulmates, to their dearest children, to their loves. And Roshan said it to her? So carefree? As if he’d always spoken to her that way? “I said it before.”

“Before when?”

“In front of my mother. When you were hiding in the pool.”

“I didn’t hear!” she squeaked. “But you mean it?”

“Absolutely.”

“Truly?”

“Yes. Truly. Too intense?” Roshan asked.

“You are maddeningly amazing,” she murmured, leaning down to kiss him. “Swim? So I can try on my new bikini and you can open your present?” She slid from his lap, scooped up her presents and lobbed his gift into his palm. “Good catch,” she praised with a wink. Oh, this definitely had to be her best Christmas ever.

***

With Neiri vanishing into the bathroom came silence. No, he realised. He didn’t enjoy it any more. He was a beast who hadn’t welcomed change in any shape or form. His present situation didn’t feel like change. It felt as if it had always been. As if he’d been awakened to his true life.

A rumble of laughter rose in his chest as he opened his gift. How very sweet and very silly. But she’d said her first purchase should mean something. It made him turn over the face of the watch. On the back was inscribed the date of the ritual and one single word:
Free
.

And she was. To be all his. With a snap, he closed the watch box and put it to one side. Now. To ensure his reprobate relatives had all vacated what was to be his love floor. Then the word
free
could be explored for all its glory. He wanted to be alone with his glorious goddess.