Recap: Erik had a confronation with Girish Baleeze, Anisha Patel's fiance. Girish insulted Corinna Desai, the young woman Erik escorted from Europe to India. The slander irritated Erik and he walked away before the engagement was announced.

Ch 5

Erik had every intention of heading down to his room and retiring for the night. He had no desire to see anyone else from the party. To hell with their engagement, he said to himself as he rounded the corner and trotted toward the narrow staircase.

Several older gentlemen were coming up the stairsand Erik was forced to hold back and wait for them to pass. No one seemed to notice his mounting frustration, though the language barrier would have prevented communication if anyone had wanted to ask why he was so red-faced.

He could still see Girish Baleeze's face in his mind. The confident sneer, prominent nose and sleek black hair. He was a perfect physical complimentto Anisha Patel.

Erik despised him.

"Insulting bastard," Erik muttered to himself. If it had been anyone else Erik wouldn't have given it a second thought, but Corinna's father had put him in charge of watching over the girl. In the two months Erik had known Corinna he had become protective of her. He had to be.

Her father was the only reason he was still alive.

Eriktugged at his sleeves and heard one of his cufflinks pins clink on the stairs. A growl of frustration left his lips.

The hall was dark and the stairs were short and narrow, cracked in places and uneven in others. The home, though large now, had been added to over the years.

The main part of the house, which had originally belonged to Padir's father, consisted only of the lower floor with two small bedrooms. The kitchen, as Padir had explained, was once attached to what was now a larger room with a fireplace.

They had added to the house considerably over the years though no one had paid much mind as to what the final result would be.The stucco walls were different in color where the new addition joined with the older foundations. In some places imported Italian tile created murals on the walls, though this had been a recent endeavor by the patriarch. His wife was far more interested in hand-blown vases and paintings from Europe than seamless walls.

Looking at the patheticarrangement, Erik couldn't help but wonder if it would have been easier to moveawayand start anew. The architect in him cringed at the layout, especially when Padir's wife handed him a small sketch of how she wanted to add a courtyard for the newer bedrooms to overlook. That, Erik tried to explain, would be impossible. There was nothing symmetric about the Patel house and absolutely no way a proper courtyard could be constructed. Erik would have rather broken his own arm than designed such a catastrophe. Still, Padir held onto the home for sentimental reasons and nothing more. He could have had a house the size of the Taj Mahal had it suited him.

"Wonderful," Erik said under his breath as he searched the dark stairway in vain.

He stooped over and squinted to no avail. He ran the toe of his shoe along the stair and waited to hear his foot scrape the small brass object against the stone. Nothing. He walked down a step and tried again. After three more steps his patience had all but left him.

"It will be easier in the morning," he heard Corinna say from behind.

Erik turned and saw her sitting a few steps above him with her chin resting against her palms. The bangles on her wrists had nearly fallen to her elbows.

"It'll be gone by then," he sighed.

She leaned forward. "No it won't. It's two steps ahead of you."

With great care he walked down three steps and turned around. He knelt down and instantly saw what he was looking for. His eyes rose to see Corinna smiling. "Good eye," he commented.

Corinna shrugged. "Must come with youth, I suppose."

He blinked at her. "Are you calling me old?"

"Men are rarely considered old. You may wed when you are twenty or when you are forty and it doesn't much matter. Women, however…do you realize that my father has already started to howl about my marriage? Uncle Padir has been urging him to find a man for me now before I turn sixteen and become an old maid." She imitated two people arguing and used her hands as puppets.

Erik shook his head. Before he could reply he was forced to move to the side. Another couple was heading up the stairs for the announcement. The woman stopped and scolded Corinna though Erik had no idea what was said. He had not yet picked up on the languages.

"You should be upstairs," Erik said. He looked away and replaced the cufflink.

"So should you."

"You're family."

"You're a guest." She paused and gave a wicked little grin. "Or you're a monkey without cymbals according to Ravi."

"Most amusing." Erik sighed. "It's been a long day of planning with Mr. Patel. I'm a bit exhausted."

"I find it ironic that you meet Girish Baleeze then leave the party."

Erik ignored her words. "Where is Ursula?"

"She's probably looking for me."

Ursula Chowdry was the youngest widow Erik had ever seen. She was eighteen, had no children, and had served as Corinna's guardian for the past two years. It was her means of income since her husband passed away.

Life had aged her considerably. She was a hard-faced woman with deep-set eyes and a hooded brow. Her eyes were creased at the outer corners with crow's feet, her lips constantly turned down in an eternal scowl. She had laughed bitterly at Erik's jests once Corinna translated his words for her. Being in Ursula's presence made him increasingly uncomfortable. She looked like a ghost that had not yet come to be, one longing to join the three babies she had miscarried.

Erik shuddered at the thought of her. "You should probably go back to your cousins."

With her hand on the iron railing Corinna stood up and adjusted her sari at the shoulder. "Yes, I'm sure they miss my incessant chatter. Especially Mr. Baleeze."

Her comment forced him to look away. "Yes, well…"

Corinna craned her neck. "What is that? A skull?"

Erik turned his wrist so that she had a better view of the brass cufflink. "It is. Found them when we first docked here."

"A bit morbid," she said with a smile. "Fitting, though, just as eccentric as you."

With all of the guests inside the house Erik considered himself fortunate that he had not been forced out into the goat shed or the stable. He was rooming with a man of his own age named Omar who spoke broken English and had dabbled in French. It was just enough for Erik to be able to understand him but seemingly not enough for Omar to ever catch a word of what Erik said in return.

Erik had made certain that he came into the room strictly to sleep. It made the arrangements far less irritating given their language barrier and the space they had shared for the last week.

The windowless room, which had been used to store extra fabrics, was just large enough for two cots and nothing more. The space between the two beds was less than arm's length, which meant privacy and modesty were both lacking. It was the most uncomfortable sleeping arrangements he could imagine.

Originally Erik had wanted to read at night but he feared setting both cots on fire in the process. With the way the door jammed he knew they would either suffocate or be burned alive.

He could hardly wait for the guests to leave the house so that he could once again have his own small room behind the kitchen. Erik would have rather smelled curry in the morning than Omar all night.

Erik wiggled his arms out of his overcoat and hung the garment on an iron hook outside the door. He ran his hand through his hair and yawned, wondering if telling Corinna he was tired had suddenly made it so.

He shoved his shoulder into the door and instantly pulled it shut again once he had seen Omar. He stumbled until his back was against the opposite wall. Mouth agape he stood unblinking.

Oh my God, Erik thought.

The door had not shut completely. He could still hear the woman he had seen mounted on Omar's hips moaning in pleasure. Though Erik had merely glimpsed into the shared room it seemed that every detail had been acid-burned into his mind: her titian shoulders, her sleek back, the curve of her hips lowering onto Omar's body. Erik blinked and it was all there—the spread of her thighs against his body, the braid of dark hair that slid down her spine as she rocked on him, her head tilted back as she voiced her ecstasy.

Had they even noticed the intrusion? Erik wondered. Apparently not, he thought, because they hadn't bothered to stop for his sake. He tilted his head back against the wall and made a face of utter repulsion. He half-thought he had seen enough and half-wished he had seen the woman from the front.

Shocked and appalled turned swiftly to amusement. Of course it would be Omar avoiding the engagement announcement for something more enjoyable. Erik wiped his face with his hand. The rooftop called to him. The smell of rain would wash away the tryst.