Indian Prince's Hidden Son - Page 12

‘I understand,’ Willow murmured, aware of the stares from the assembled staff, whom Jai invited closer to see their son. The level of their appreciation for the little boy in Jai’s arms warmed her from inside out.

One of the gardeners approached her with a beautiful pink and yellow flower and extended it to her before bowing very low.

‘He is proud to be the first to welcome the new Maharani to her home and he swears that even the frangipani blossom is not your equal,’ Jai translated with an amused grin.

They walked into a huge circular hall fashioned entirely of marble and supported on carved pillars while Jai directed her towards the curving staircase and up to the landing. He walked down an imposing corridor lined with portraits of the former Maharajas of Chandrapur and showed her into a room already set up as a nursery for Hari.

Willow reclaimed her son and sat down with him.

‘When you’re free I’ll join you for a late lunch. I have some work matters to take care of,’ Jai told her before leaving again.

Hari needed to be changed and fed and there were innumerable staff hovering, eager to take care of his needs for her, but Willow didn’t want to lose her position of being first and foremost in her baby’s life, nor did she want him exposed to too many new faces and different childcare practices at once. Overpowered by the grandeur of Jai’s home, she also needed a moment or two of doing ordinary things to feel comfortable again. Thanking everyone cheerfully for the help she wouldn’t accept, she saw to Hari herself before finally laying him down for his nap.

When she emerged from the nursery again, a moustachioed man in a bright red turban and traditional attire spread open an inlaid brass door on the other side of the landing and bowed his head in a deferential invitation. Willow passed by him into the most breathtaking interior and her steps slowed as she paused to admire the intricate glass mosaic tiles set into the walls to make superb pictures of a bygone age. Depicted on the walls were hunting scenes with elephants and tigers and grand and very vivid ceremonial processions. Talking on his phone, Jai was striding across the shaded terrace beyond the room that overlooked the lake. In that airy space a table and chairs were arranged.

Willow watched him move, absorbing the elegant grace of his lean, powerful figure as he moved and talked, spreading expressive fingers, shifting his hands this way and that in fluid stress or dismissal of a point. A thrill of desire pierced her soft and deep, making her breath catch in her throat. He was so extremely good-looking and she was married to him now, which still didn’t seem real to her. His head turned as he noticed her hovering for the first time and the heat of his stare sent the blood drumming up beneath her skin.

Willow sank down into a dining chair. A napkin was laid over her lap with a flourish by a bearded middle-aged man.

‘This is Ranjit,’ Jai explained, dropping his phone down on the tabletop and settling down opposite her. ‘He speaks excellent English and oversees our household. Anything you need, you ask him, and he will provide it. After we’ve eaten, I’ll show you around.’

‘It’s a fascinating building and the surroundings only make it more exotic,’ she commented, watching a crocodile slide off a mudflat into the lake, his two beady eyes creepy bumps above the surface as he swam. ‘But I shouldn’t like to meet that gator on a dark night.’

‘For safety we only ever leave this building in vehicles. I’ll take you on a mini safari some afternoon, although it’s amazing how many of the animals you can view from up here. Sooner or later, they all visit the water. He’s not a gator, by the way, he’s a marsh crocodile.’

‘I don’t know much about wild animals,’ she confided. ‘Only what I’ve learned from watching documentaries. Tell me, why so many palaces?’

‘Every generation wanted to be current. Centuries ago this palace and the land around it was for the royal family to hunt.’ Jai grimaced. ‘And now it’s a wildlife reserve. The original fortress above the city is magnificent but could not possibly be adapted to modern life and my grandfather’s deco palace is more of a showpiece than a home. Approximately two thirds of that building is now an award-winning hotel and the remaining wing remains ours. We will entertain my relatives and friends there at a party to be held in a few weeks to celebrate our marriage. Is there anyone you wish to invite on your own behalf?’

‘No relatives left alive,’ she reminded him. ‘And no friends who could afford to fly out to India just for a party.’

‘I would cover the expense for any of your guests. Shelley?’

Willow winced and coloured. ‘She has no holiday leave left. She had to take time off to help me with Hari after he was born.’

His ebony brows furrowed. ‘Why? Was he very challenging?’

‘No, I was the problem,’ Willow confessed. ‘I had to have an emergency Caesarean and it was a couple of weeks before I was fit enough to look after him on my own. They don’t keep you in hospital after surgery for long these days.’

Jai compressed his lips. ‘And yet you still didn’t think of contacting me for help?’

‘We got through it,’ Willow muttered with a troubled shrug.

‘Why...an emergency?’ he pressed. ‘What happened?’

‘I’d been in labour for hours and it wasn’t progressing as it should’ve done. Hari was a big baby and they had to operate for his sake.’ Willow relaxed a little as the food arrived and relaxed even more when she registered that it was entirely a British chicken meal without even a hint of spice.

Jai’s high cheekbones were prominent beneath his bronzed skin. He could have lost his son without ever knowing he existed. He could have lost Willow as well. The acknowledgement shook him and her lack of guilt on that score annoyed him, no matter how hard he worked at suppressing such negative reactions. Jai was accustomed to being in charge, used to women who were eager to please him, certainly not a woman who shunned his support and thrust her independence unapologetically in his face. Or perhaps it was the fact that she still refused to admit that she had made a mistake in not telling him that she was pregnant. Had behaved as though he could have no possible importance as a father in his son’s life.

Or, more probably, had she thought of her own father’s cruel indifference to her feelings when she’d failed to meet his exacting academic standards? Possibly she had decided that a father figure was not so necessary. Jai, however, had enjoyed a father who was caring and supportive and it was a role he took very seriously. Suddenly impatient, he thrust his plate away and stood up.

‘Let me show you the palace,’ he urged, watching as she rose to her feet, her jewelled eyes bright in her heart-shaped face, her lush mouth pink and succulent. Even as he dragged his attention from her mouth, he was hard and full and throbbing. The result of more than a year’s celibacy, he told himself in exasperation. In those circumstances, it was natural, even normal, for him to be almost embarrassingly wound up. He had not gone that long without sex since he became an adult. There was no reason whatsoever for him to get worked up about the prospect of having sex with his wife when it was a purely practical element of a marriage undertaken simply to confirm his son’s status.

He escorted her downstairs to the two-storey library that had been his father’s pride and joy. Sheltered beneath one of the domes, it rejoiced in a twisting narrow marble staircase to the upper floor.

Willow stopped dead to look around herself in amazement at the towering columns of bookcases. In several places there were alcoves backed by stained-glass window embrasures and upholstered with comfortable cushions, little reading nooks, she registered in fascination, never having entered so inviting a library space. ‘It’s absolutely gorgeous,’ she murmured appreciatively. ‘I may not be academic but I love to read, so it’s ironic that all the books here will mostly be in another language.’

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