Without a word, she turned and jammed the key into the lock, rattled it and swung her door open.
“India,” he called in protest.
She shut the door behind her before he could say anything else.
Chapter Eighteen
Ridge resisted the urge to put his fist through India’s door. He curled his fingers into a ball then relaxed them again. How could she pretend that what happened between them wasn’t something they both desperately wanted?
He turned in frustration and opened the door to his room. Robby was sprawled on his bed, his arm flung carelessly over his eyes.
His eyes traveled to the not so comfortable looking couch that posed the only place to sleep unless he wanted to sleep with Robby. Not that he didn’t love his brother, but he was a poor substitute for the one person he really wanted in his bed.
He flopped onto the couch and stretched his travel weary legs. He put his hands behind his head, reclined into the most comfortable position he could muster and stared at the ceiling.
What the hell had happened? The spark between them had been sizzling for quite some time. The stolen kisses, the passionate interludes, they had all been a lead up to the inevitable. Or so he had thought.
True, a carriage wasn’t exactly the best place for them to make love, but he didn’t get from India that she was a simpering virginal miss. She screamed passion. Sensuality beyond the scope of someone inexperienced in matters of the bedroom.
Which begged the bigger question. How many men had she been with? He wasn’t wrong about her, he knew it. She wasn’t a virgin, or if she was, she had to be the most experienced virgin he’d ever met.
He felt the unwelcome pang of jealousy and grimaced. Had she found him lacking? Was that the reason for the sudden withdrawal? She certainly hadn’t seemed to find his efforts second rate in the heat of the moment.
“When did you come in?”
Ridge turned to look in Robby’s direction as his brother’s sleepy voice intruded on his thoughts. He sat up and threw his legs over the side of the sofa.
“Not long ago. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Robby sat up and rubbed at his face. “You didn’t. I seldom sleep for more than a few hours at a time.”
Ridge raised a questioning brow. “Something wrong?”
“No, no, nothing,” Robby said hastily. “I just needed a bit to drink.”
Robby stood up on unsteady feet and shuffled over to the pitcher that rested on the small table by the door. He poured water into a small cup and downed the contents.
He set the cup down and turned to Ridge. “How did things go at the docks?”
Ridge snorted. “Could have been worse, I suppose. Lord Clarence reared his ugly head. India and I had to dive overboard and swim down river to escape.”
“Gads! Lord Clarence you say? What’s that bounder want with you and India?”
“It’s a long story,” Ridge mumbled. He had no desire to go into detail with Robby. He had enough to worry about without concern over what nefarious plot Lord Clarence was hatching.
Robby ambled over and plunked down on the sofa next to Ridge. “What’s between you and India anyway?”
The question caught him off guard. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
Robby snorted. “Sure you do. You look at her the same way you used to look at Lucinda.”
Robby’s breath caught as her name tripped off his lips, and he turned his tortured gaze toward Ridge.
“God, I’m sorry, Ridge. That was not well done of me.”
Ridge sighed. “There’s no need for an apology, Robby. It’s inevitable that we talk about it sometime isn’t it? We can’t avoid the issue forever.”
“Do you...do you hate me?” Robby asked.
