He took a sip, the warm, earthy taste preferable to even one more sip of the orange-flavored beverage. He tossed it back.
“It’s not whiskey.” She poured him another cup.
“I’m thirsty.”
“You know, apart from being abducted, and the helicopter crash, and having to hide every five minutes from soldiers, and scary rope ladders, being shot at by the river, and seeing snakes and disgusting spiders and bugs, this has been a big adventure.”
“If I subtract all of that, what’s left? Sleeping in a tree house? The stone porn temple? Eating MREs?”
She smiled over the rim of her teacup. “You.”
Connor’s heart gave a sharp thud, what she’d said yesterday coming back to him.
Fireworks. Passion. Excitement.
Yeah, there were red flags all over this. Was she getting attached to him? She shouldn’t. She deserved better than to get mixed up with a man like him. Still, he’d be lying if he said a part of him wasn’t gratified.
A knock.
Mya came in with a tray laden with food, the scents making Connor’s mouth water. She knelt beside them and set each dish on the table between them. “Rice. Fish and rice noodle soup. Vegetables and herbs. Chicken in curry.”
“Thank you, Mya.” Shanti gave the woman a warm smile. “After the past few days, this is a feast.”
Mya lifted a strap from her shoulder, setting a large cloth bag on the floor. “Here are robes to wear while I launder your clothes. You will also find all you need for the cleansing of the body.”
“You and your father are very kind.”
“If you would put your garments in this bag and set it outside the door, I will launder them and return them to you tonight. And don’t worry—if anyone sees your clothes, I’ll tell them they belong to tourists here for a retreat.”
But Connor had other concerns. “Where is your father going to sleep? Won’t the other monks wonder if he doesn’t return to his room tonight?”
“My father has told us all that he plans to chant and meditate through the night for the healing of this world. They know he will be in the Great Hall, and some plan to join him. I will tend to you. No one misses an insignificant nun.”
There was no deception in Mya’s brown eyes, no hint of a lie.
“What’s below us? If Dempo is in the Great Hall and someone hears us moving around up here…”
“My room is below yours. No one will know you are here.”
Connor was starting to believe this was real—a sanctuary in the middle of hostile territory. “Thank you, Mya.”
She stood, pressed her palms together, then left them to eat.
Connor and Shanti washed their hands in the bathroom and went straight for the spoons, neither of them up for figuring out how to make rice balls with their fingers.
Shanti moaned at her first bite of the chicken curry. “It’s so good.”
“Don’t eat too fast, princess. You’ll make yourself sick.” Connor took a bite, the mingled flavors of chicken, garlic, ginger, and turmeric exploding on his tongue.
The soup was good, too, and the fresh vegetables and herbs—cucumber, carrot, cilantro leaves, and sugar snap peas—helped to make up for days of MREs.
“Do you trust him now?”
Connor knew what she was truly asking. She wanted to know whether he believed the two of them were safe. “We need to be on our guard. All it takes is one slip, one mistake, one person seeing or overhearing something they shouldn’t. But, yes, I think we can trust Dempo and Mya.”
When she had finished eating, Shanti stood, drew down her zipper, peeled off her jeans and panties, and left them on the floor. “I’m getting naked and taking a shower.”
Connor let his gaze travel over her slender legs to the dark curls at the apex of her thighs, hunger replaced by an altogether different appetite. “Mind if I watch?”