A Trip with the Tycoon

For hours. Long, endless hours, replaying that comfy scene over dinner and cursing himself for being a fool.

He’d overstepped with the cosy chat about her mum, had panicked and back-pedalled as a result.

The upshot? Tam’s barriers had slammed down, shutting him out, obliterating what little ground he’d made since she’d forgiven him for crashing her trip.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Ever since he’d boarded the train he’d been edgy, unfocused, displaced. And he hated feeling like that, as if he had no control.

Everyone said he was a control freak and, to some degree, he was. Control gave him power and impenetrability and confidence that things would work out exactly as he planned them, at total odds with his childhood, where no amount of forethought could give him the stability he’d so desperately craved.

When he’d first landed in this cosmopolitan, jam-packed country, he’d had a clear goal: to seduce Tam.

He wanted her—had always wanted her—but had stayed away for business reasons. Richard had been the best chef in the country and he’d needed him to cement Ambrosia’s reputation.

Nothing got in his way when his most prized possession was at stake, not even a beautiful, intelligent woman. He hadn’t needed the distraction at the time, had been hell-bent on making Ambrosia Melbourne’s premier dining experience.

He’d succeeded, thanks to Richard’s flamboyance in the kitchen and a healthy dose of business acumen on his part. Now, nothing stood in his way. Discounting his stupid over-eagerness, that was.

He sneaked another sideways glance at Tam, wondering if her intent focus was genuine or another way to give him the cold shoulder.

She wasn’t like the other women he’d dated: everything, from her reluctance to respond to his flirting to the lingering sadness in her eyes, told him she wouldn’t take kindly to being wooed.

He hoped to change all that.

‘Some structure, huh?’

She finally turned towards him, her expression cool, her eyes wary.

‘Yeah, it’s impressive.’ She pointed at one of the windows. ‘Don’t you think it’s amazing all those royal women of the palace used to sit behind those windows and watch the ceremonial processions without being seen?’

He squinted, saw a pink window like a hundred others and shook his head.

‘Sad, more like it. Having to stay behind closed doors while the kings got to strut their stuff. Don’t think many women would put up with that these days.’

She stiffened, hurt flickering in the rich green depths of her eyes.

‘Maybe some women find it’s easier to give in to the whims of their husbands than live with callous coldness every day.’

Realisation dawned and he thrust his hands in his pockets to stop from slapping himself in the head. Had she just inadvertently given him a glimpse into her marriage to Richard?

He’d seen Rich like that at work. All smiles and jovial conviviality but if things didn’t go his way or someone dared to have a different opinion to King Dick, he’d freeze them out better than his Bombe Alaska.

Would he have ever treated his wife the same way?

He hated thinking that this warm, vibrant woman had been subjected to that, had possibly tiptoed around in order to stay on his good side, had put a happy face on a marriage that would’ve been trying at best.

She didn’t deserve that, no woman did, and the least he could do now was distract her long enough so she forgot his unintentional faux pas and enjoyed the rest of their day in Jaipur.

‘I’ve seen enough palaces for one day. How about you and I hit some of those handicraft shops the guide mentioned earlier?’ He bent towards her ear, spoke in an exaggerated conspiratorial whisper. ‘By your different footwear for breakfast, lunch and dinner, I’d say you collect shoes on a weekly basis so I’m sure the odd bargain or two wouldn’t go astray.’

She straightened her shoulders, flashed him a superior smirk while her eyes sparkled. ‘I’ll have you know I only buy a few pairs of shoes a year, mainly boots. Melbourne’s winters can be a killer on a girl’s feet.’

‘I’ll take your word for it.’

He smiled, thrilled that his distraction technique had worked when she returned it. ‘So, you up for some shopping?’

‘I’m up for anything.’

Their gazes locked and for a long, loaded moment he could’ve sworn he saw a flicker of something other than her usual reticence.

‘Come on then, let’s go.’

As she fell in step beside him, his mind mulled over her revelation. He had no idea what sort of a marriage Rich and Tam had shared; he’d barely seen them together, preferring to make himself scarce whenever she’d appeared.

He’d cited interstate or overseas business whenever she’d hosted a party and had avoided all contact if she dropped into Ambrosia to see Rich on the odd occasion.

In fact, he’d rarely seen the two interact, such had been his blinding need to avoid her at all costs.