Page 25 of Journey to You

Was she willing to take a risk for a fleeting happiness that would dissolve when Ethan stepped on a plane bound for Melbourne?

Wow, she had some choice, and as the rickshaw bumped and rocked and swayed through the sanctuary, she knew she’d have to make up her mind and fast.

They had half a day and one night left together. Not a lot of time to make a decision.

Chance. Risk. Gamble. Venture. Things she’d never done when married to Richard, content in the security he provided, when she’d been the dutiful wife so in love with her husband she’d been blinded to his faults until it was too late.

But that part of her life was over, her dreams of happily ever after shattered by a selfish egomaniac, and for the first time in years she could do as she damn well pleased.

Stakes were high. Make a mistake and she’d lose the tentative friendship she’d developed with Ethan, something she’d grown to depend on over the last week. Make it work and they could shoot to the moon and back.

With a heartfelt sigh, she watched the geese fly higher and higher, reaching for the stars.

Maybe she should too.

Eleven

Tamara took a deep breath and opened her eyes, the air whooshing out of her lungs as she caught her first unforgettable glimpse of the Taj Mahal.

The incredible monument shimmered in the early dusk, white marble reflecting in the long moat in front of it, casting a ghostly glow over the magical gardens surrounding it.

“It’s something else,” Ethan murmured, his tone soft with reverence.

She glanced at him, too choked to speak, grateful he knew how much this moment meant to her.

Sliding an arm around her waist, he hugged her close. “Your mother is here with you. She’d want you to enjoy this, to be happy.”

Gnawing on her bottom lip to keep from blubbering, Tamara searched his eyes, wondering if he knew how much of an integral part he played in her happiness these days. The caring, compassion and tenderness in those fathomless depths took her breath away.

She’d refused to entertain the thought of them being anything more than friends.

Until now.

Placing a hand on his cheek, she caressed the stubble, enjoying the light prickle rasping against her palm.

“I hope you know that sharing this with you is beyond special.”

Surprise flickered in his eyes, tinged with wariness, before his characteristic sparkle obliterated both.

“I’m a poor stand-in for your mother but I’m glad I can be here for you.”

He turned, forcing her to lower her hand, and she followed his line of vision, blown away by one of the Seven Wonders of the World. The River Yamuna flowed nearby, and though surrounded by tourists, she felt like the only woman in the world to feel this incredible in the face of such beauty.

“It’s stood the test of time, hasn’t it?” He asked softly, unable to tear his gaze away from the monument.

She looked at the curved dome, the archways, the exquisite ornamentation. “Considering it took twenty-two years to build, I guess they made it to last.”

He did a slow three-sixty, taking in the gardens and the fountains, before fixing his gaze on the Taj again. “I knew it would be impressive, but I didn’t expect anything like this.”

“I know,” she whispered, closing her eyes for a second, savouring the moment, elated that when she opened them again she’d see the same incredible sight. “Do you know the story behind it?”

He held up his hand, and wavered it from side to side. “A little. Shah Jahan, a Mughal Emperor, had it constructed in memory of his beloved wife Mumtaz Mahal. It took about twenty thousand workers to construct, a thousand elephants to haul materials, and used roughly twenty-eight precious and semi-precious stones to do the inlay work.”

She smiled. “Someone’s been reading their tourist guidebook.”

He raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. “Okay, Miss Smarty Pants. Why don’t you tell me what you know?”

“My version reads like a romance novel.”

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