Maharaja's Mistress

‘I mean, you can’t keep on doing this and expect me to feel nothing.’

‘That’s not true.’ His lips tugged in a grin. ‘I expect you to feel lots.’

And now she was laughing and aching for his touch, and common sense was out of the window. ‘You can’t,’ she insisted, putting up the weakest protest of all when Ram’s fingers found the fastening on her jeans.

‘Of course I can,’ he argued. ‘In fact, I’m very good at it.’

‘Egotist.’

‘Contrary woman.’

‘Smart ass.’

‘Obstinate—awkward—difficult—’ As Ram was punctuating each of these accusations with a kiss, it was very hard to argue with him. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to,’ she admitted, shifting position to make things easier for him. ‘It’s just that—’

‘Like I said, you’re contrary,’ Ram growled. ‘But I think you want me—am I right? And I know I want you.’

‘Then, why ask a question you already know the answer to?’ she said while she was working feverishly on his belt.

‘Is there something wrong with a healthy appetite?’

‘Nothing at all,’ Mia admitted, shivering with arousal as she felt Ram’s erection, huge and hard, pressing insistently against her.

And if this was all there was—

It would never be enough.

He kissed away Mia’s tension, soothing her down and firing her up just for the sheer pleasure of seeing her so hungry for sex. There were no complications—nothing, except appetite and a long night of love ahead of them. In the morning he had to return to the city and his duties in Ramprakesh, but for now…

Governing Ramprakesh was a fact that had seemed a fiction for far too long—until he’d returned with Mia, he now realised. Seeing everything through her eyes had changed him. He had always known there was a lot to be done, but now he knew he could never leave his people to those who would abuse them.

‘Kiss me,’ Mia insisted fiercely, sensing his distraction.

He needed no encouragement. It was all too easy to lose himself in making love to Mia and allow all his other concerns to drift away. She was always hungry for him as he was for her, and he doubted that they could ever get enough of each other. He’d never met anyone like her, so cool, contemporary and strong—and unpredictable, he registered with pleasure as she muscled him to the ground. He loved everything about Mia. He loved her smooth, damp body, still chilled from the icy lake water, and the quick way she responded to him—

‘Stop thinking,’ she insisted, momentarily pinning him beneath her. ‘You have to stop life dragging you this way and that.’

‘Only you do that,’ he argued, swinging her round so that now he was on top.

‘You’ve always had too much, Ram—that’s your trouble—’

‘Not yet I don’t,’ he argued, stripping off the rest of her clothes.

But Mia was right. Where they went from here was up to him. The playboy years were behind him and it was time to live a different life. And Mia was right about him having too much. He could have anything he wanted and sometimes even that wasn’t enough for him.

Ram had never made love to her like this before, Mia registered as he eased inside her. He was so gentle and loving…so caring—

Was this the long goodbye?

She had to tell herself not to be so melodramatic, or she would cry—Too late.

‘I hope you’re crying with pleasure,’ Ram growled as he dropped kisses on her cheeks and on her lips and on her nose.

‘You weren’t supposed to see.’

‘Well, I did see. Wasn’t it you who said we shouldn’t have secrets from each other?’

‘I don’t have any secrets, do you?’

‘I have one or two up my sleeve.’

‘How am I supposed to think straight?’ Mia demanded breathlessly as Ram proved that was the case.

‘You’re not supposed to be thinking at all.’

‘And as for keeping secrets up your sleeve,’ she managed between noisy gulps of air.

‘Okay, the place I keep them wasn’t all that accurate.’

‘You don’t say,’ she managed before sensation became her world.

Was she brave enough to pretend that unbelievable sex with Ram was enough for her, and that she didn’t need for ever? Or would longing for Ram become her melancholy theme? She couldn’t think about it now, Mia realised as Ram upped the tempo and she urged him on in a frenzy of desire.

This was enough. It had to be.

It was almost lunchtime the next day when Mia woke with a body aching pleasurably from Ram’s exhaustive attentions. A limousine had collected them from the fort, transporting them back to reality in the early hours of the morning, while grooms took their horses back in a transporter. That was how things were done here; everything was so easy—easy for Ram, that was. But even as she stretched and kicked her brain into gear Mia refused to dwell on things that couldn’t be and made sure she concentrated on things she could do something about—like landing the interior design job, for instance.

She took a shower and then told herself she would not look for Ram crossing the courtyard—nor would she listen for his voice as he strolled with his council in the garden beneath her room…

Like now? Standing outside on her balcony, peering over it with her ears pricked?

Okay, so she’d heard his voice in the distance. And now she could see he was walking with Leila’s father. Both men’s heads were close—though Ram seemed to be doing most of the talking.

Mia’s heart sank. The photo on the front of that day’s Ramprakesh Times had shown Ram standing with Leila’s father, and a young girl.

Why did she always have to learn about Ram’s plans from a newspaper? She backed into the bedroom before she could be seen. And why did Ram have to look so sexy, even when she could cheerfully batter him over the head with the collection of news articles she was steadily building up? How was any woman supposed to think straight in her position, let alone contemplate sharing so much man?

She couldn’t. And that was that.

She had just completed her preliminary chat with the committee Ram had set up to decide who should get the commission to redecorate his yacht and design the interior décor of his new home. Had it gone well? Mia thought it had. She had kept her mind firmly fixed on business, and everyone seemed to like her ideas.

‘Mia.’

Ram had followed her out of the room.

‘You did well in there—better than even I imagined.’

‘You’re too kind,’ she said dryly.

‘You were the final element I’ve been looking for, and now everyone is talking about the benefits of an eco-home and gifting this palace to the people for education and tourism, as well as paring down the court to concentrate on providing more tangible benefits for the country—with the occasional festival th

rown in, of course,’ he added, his lips curving with amusement. ‘In short—they liked your style.’

And she liked his. Concentrating on business was never going to be easy, Mia realised, thinking how well the traditional clothes suited him. The flowing black silk decorated with the finest gold embroidery and precious jewels hinted at the muscular form beneath.

‘Everyone was impressed that you had researched the practical benefits of your design work as well as the aesthetics.’

‘I did get a bit carried away,’ Mia admitted.

‘You were impassioned and yet coolly precise.’

‘Why, thank you, sir.’ She offered him a mock curtsey. ‘Just doing my job.’

‘Accept a compliment for once, will you?’ Ram turned away briefly to acknowledge some servants as they bowed to him.

‘Yes, Your Majesty,’ Mia said cheekily, thinking how magnificent Ram looked in his royal regalia and wondering if he was naked beneath the robe. Needless to say, he felt the vibes.

‘Having exceeded my expectations as well as those of the committee, I can only conclude I’m giving you too much time alone.’

‘Ram,’ she warned him softly as more servants hurried past.

‘There is one condition I must make before you go through to the next stage.’

‘Which is?’ Had she overestimated her success in the committee room? Mia wondered as Ram backed her into a side room.

‘Can’t you guess?’

‘Are you mad?’ She shot a glance at the door. ‘Ram, you can’t do this.’

‘If I didn’t know you better I’d think you were serious.’

‘I am serious.’ She pressed her hands against his chest, surprising herself with her iron resolve. This could go on for ever—if she allowed it to. She couldn’t envisage a time when she wouldn’t want Ram, physically, mentally—in every way there was. But now he had given her a chance to get her life back on track she should take it. ‘I want more than this, Ram.’

‘More?’ he demanded, trying to keep a straight face.

‘More of you…’ Mia’s voice barely made it above a whisper.

‘I’m not sure I have more to give, Mia—you’ve got it all.’