Maharaja's Mistress

Ram remained silent.

‘It’s such a big hole.’ She threw an anguished glance his way.

‘And?’

‘And it sounds as if it might have a screw loose.’

‘No, that would be me,’ Ram argued as Mia plunged her tiny fingers inside the hole to remove the foreign body.

‘What’s this?’ she said, staring with amazement at the enormous blue-white diamond she had just pulled out on its jewelled band.

‘It looks like a ring to me—just an observation,’ Ram said, holding up his hands in mock-surrender.

‘It is a ring,’ she said stupidly. ‘But what’s it doing here? Do you think it’s been here long? Ram…? Ram!’ Mia’s jaw dropped. Shock had made her somewhat slower than usual.

Removing the ring from her, Ram reached for her hand.

‘Are you—? Is this…?’ she blurted.

‘A proposal?’ he said coolly as he selected Mia’s marriage finger. ‘Yes, it is.’

‘Well, down on one knee, then.’

There was a moment and then they both laughed. And Ram, for maybe the first time in his life, did as he was told.

‘Mia Spencer-Dayly, I have loved you since the first day I set eyes on you, and over the years that love has deepened. And now I realise that I can’t live without you—which is a damn nuisance, actually, because now I shall have to marry you.’

She huffed. ‘Don’t let me force you.’

But Ram was serious. ‘Will you marry me, Mia?’

‘You’re sure about this?’

‘I am,’ he said.

Mia stared at Ram, hardly able to comprehend the enormity of the moment. Having dreamed of this all her life, now the moment had come she was lost for words. ‘Is that it?’ she managed finally.

Ram looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘Were you expecting something more?’

‘Oh, I don’t know…’ Jewelled steeples twinkling in the fast-fading light against an indigo sky…Drums—bells—horn-blowing, perhaps? Incense wafting. Rose-petal flinging, potentially? Elephants? Definitely—But it was time to stop day-dreaming. ‘No, of course I wasn’t expecting anything more—and I’m deeply honoured…’

‘Honoured? I don’t want to be honoured. I want you to love me—’

‘Love you? I adore you.’

‘Not as much as I adore you.’

‘Do we have to fight over that as well?’

Ram’s answer was to brush his lips against her neck. And then she thought of something else. ‘I was just thinking—’

‘Oh, no,’ he groaned, ‘not that again.’

‘Seriously, Ram, what about tradition? Would your people welcome me?’

‘You’re right—we’d better check,’ he said, looking serious. Holding out his hand, he drew her outside onto the balcony.

‘Is this for me?’ Mia exclaimed as the first fireworks lit up the sky.

‘This is for us,’ Ram said as tiny lights showered down from the sky like so many sparkling wishes. ‘You’re the love of my life, Mia, and my people share my happiness. All I want is to keep you safe.’

‘But not too safe, I hope?’ she said, turning to look at him.

‘What’s wrong with being safe?’

‘Too safe would rule you out,’ she said, and then she clung to him as if she would never let him go as the first faint sounds of bells and drums and horns heralded the arrival of the elephant parade.

Chapter Nineteen

THE night before her wedding was wonderfully smoky and mysterious. She was leaning over the balcony, watching visitors arrive, grateful that the moon had come out to brush the shadows from the sky. There was to be a grand ball at the old palace on the hill before Mia was taken to the house of the women to be prepared for her lover, who would shortly become both her husband as well as the acknowledged leader of a country on the brink of great and wonderful change.

And Ram had arranged one more surprise, Mia realised with a shriek of excitement as the door to her apartment crashed open and the five crazy women who were to act as her bridesmaids piled in a good few hours ahead of schedule.

‘Surprise!’ they chorused, spreading out across the vast acreage of marble floor, shooting coats, bags, scarves and magazines in every direction.

‘It’s not like you lot to be early,’ Mia exclaimed as they shared a group hug.

‘And it’s not like you to marry a maharaja,’ Xheni observed, exchanging glances with the other girls.

‘Now you know Ram’s given up the title,’ Mia protested.

‘But his people wouldn’t let him go—so nothing’s changed,’ Xheni said with a shrug. ‘You can change the title, but you can’t change the man—’

And thank goodness for it, Mia thought.

‘Perhaps we should try and calm things down a bit,’ Xheni suggested, tongue in cheek as she practised a queenly wave in front of one of the mirrors. ‘This is a royal establishment, is it not?’ she demanded, turning to sweep Mia a low curtsey.

‘Will you stop that?’ Mia demanded, laughing with the rest of the girls when, following Xheni’s lead, they began bowing to each other and strutting around the room with their noses in the air. ‘None of this changes me.’

‘Well, it damn well should do,’ Xheni protested. ‘I expect you to bestow all sorts of titles on me as soon as you are enthroned.’

‘First off, I’m getting married, not enthroned—and secondly, there are no titles in Ramprakesh these days.’

‘Well, that’s a shame, isn’t it, girls? I wouldn’t have come if I’d known,’ Xheni exclaimed.

‘Neither would we,’ they chorused on cue.

‘So, where’s the Ram?’ Xheni demanded, swinging her long legs as she perched on a side table, stuffing as many handmade chocolates into her mouth as would fit.

‘Ram is resting quietly.’

‘Yeah, I bet he is,’ Xheni scoffed to a chorus of raucous laughter.

‘No, seriously,’ Mia insisted, trying for prim. ‘The most recent of Ram’s new traditions insists the bride and groom must remain celibate on the night before the wedding.’

‘I think he’s having you on,’ Xheni commented, helping herself to another handful of chocolate.

‘Not at all,’ Mia insisted. ‘Ram would never do that.’

She had to pause while Xheni scoffed at that and almost choked.

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nbsp; ‘We’ll meet briefly at the ball—well chaperoned, of course—and then we’ll go our separate ways.’

‘I can’t believe you fell for it.’

‘I didn’t fall for anything.’

‘Right,’ Xheni drawled, exchanging glances with the other girls. ‘You see what happens when you fall in love, girls? You lose your edge.’

‘This time you’re wrong,’ Mia said confidently. ‘And, anyway, what are we arguing about? Let’s have some prewedding fun.’

‘We’re up for that,’ the girls exclaimed.

‘And we have a secret weapon,’ Xheni confided. ‘Girls,’ she said with some ceremony, ‘The Dress…’

‘But I already have a ball gown,’ Mia pointed out, thoroughly confused now.

‘Oh, that old thing,’ Xheni exclaimed, dismissing the designer gown Mia had bought especially for the night-before-the-wedding party with a flick of her wrist. ‘We have something much better, don’t we, girls?’

Mia drew in a sharp breath when she recognised the gown box they were carrying. ‘You remembered…’

‘That’s what friends are for,’ Xheni said. ‘Lucky for you your mother kept the gown Ram bought you all these years ago.’

And so Mia had the opportunity to untie the black silk bow on the powder-pink gown box a second time. Lifting out the exquisite dress to sighs of appreciation from the girls, she held it in front of her. ‘I hope it still fits.’

‘Of course it will fit,’ they insisted, while Xheni added that certain film stars she knew would die for a chance to wear the famous French designer’s iconic column of beaded, flesh-coloured silk.

To Mia’s relief, the dress fitted like a second skin, and was possibly the most beautiful gown on earth.

‘You mean it’s taken you all this time to realise Ram has always been in love with you?’ Xheni demanded, looking at how the dress transformed her friend.

The girls shared Xheni’s huff of disbelief, and even Mia was forced to wind back the reel and remember the looks Ram used to give her, looks she had taken for teasing or provoking her—anything but desire, let alone love. And this time when she stood in front of the mirror imagining Ram holding her it was quite something to know she had the best chance ever of making that dream come true.