The water tasted of roses. . . .
He jerked violently awake. On his hand a green parrot was perched, preening itself and ruffling its feathers. And from the pool below Shirin was flinging handfuls of water up over the side of the platform, laughing as she tried to splash his face.
She was floating, naked, below him, her hair streaming out across the surface of the water, tangled among the drifting rose petals. He looked about and saw his own wet clothes, mingled among her silks and jewels. For a moment he felt again the terror of the dream, the rudderless ship impelled by something beyond control, and then he caught the edge of the platform and slipped over the side.
The water was cool against his skin and involuntarily he caught his breath. Then he reached out and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her against him. She turned her face to his, twined her hair around his head, and crushed his lips with her own. Just as suddenly, she threw back her head and laughed with joy. He found himself laughing with her.
"Why don't we both just stay? I don't have to be back in Agra until the wedding. We could have a week." He studied the perfect lines of her face, the dark eyes at once defiant and anxious, and wished he could hold her forever. The Worshipful East India Company be damned.
"But we both have things we must do." She revolved in the flowered water and drew her face above his. She kissed him again, languorously. Then she drew herself out of the water and twisted a wrap around her, covering her breasts. "Both you and I."
"And what's this thing you have to do?"
Her eyes shadowed. "One thing I must try to do is convince Samad he cannot stay here any longer. He has to go south, where Prince Jadar can protect him. But he refuses to listen. And time is growing short now. I truly fear for what may happen to him after the wedding. The Persian Shi'ite mullahs will certainly be powerful enough then to demand he be tried and executed on charges of heresy. For violating some obscure precept of Islamic law. It will be the end for him." She paused. "And for anyone who has helped him."
"Then if he won't leave, at least you should." He lifted himself out of the water and settled beside her on the marble paving. "Why don't you come back to England with me? When the fleet from Bantam makes landfall at Surat, Arangbar will surely have the courage to sign the firman, and then my mission will be finished. It should only be a matter of weeks, regardless of what the Portugals try to do."
She studied the water of the pool with sadness in her eyes and said nothing for a moment as she kicked the surface lightly.