Maharaja's Mistress

‘If you could see your face.’

‘I really hate you,’ she assured him when he dragged her close.

‘Just remind me—what is it they say about hate, again?’

‘You can forget that! On this occasion hate absolutely means—’

His lips crashed down on hers, silencing her. She fought him, but not so hard he’d let her go.

‘Next time I’ll be sure to ask permission,’ Ram assured her as she swiped her swollen lips on the back of her hand.

‘That’s what you think—but there won’t be a next time.’

‘Until the next time?’

He yanked her close and silenced her a second time; this time with a kiss that stole her breath away.

‘You don’t make it easy to understand you, Mia.’

‘Says the sphinx—and anyway, easy’s boring,’ she told him, scowling as she slapped water off her drenched clothes.

‘Do you think I don’t know that by now?’ Ram murmured as he brushed sodden straggles of hair from her eyes.

She wasn’t quite over it yet. ‘Friends owe each other the truth, Ram.’

‘Friends?’ Angling his chin, he raised a brow as he stared down at her.

‘If we were true friends you could tell me things you couldn’t tell anyone else…’ Her voice tailed away. Suddenly she felt very vulnerable indeed, but Ram just smiled his easy smile. ‘Let’s have a picnic,’ he said, ‘and I promise to tell you everything.’

He had brought a rug and some basic supplies on the back of his horse, and when he’d unbuckled the saddlebags and revealed the treats they laid everything out on the relative comfort of a mossy bank just outside the old stone walls. Uncorking the water bottle, he handed it to her, and Mia listened quietly as Ram told her about his childhood friend: a little girl called Leila who was basically the only family he’d known in those lonely days—a little girl he’d played ball with, and who had grown up to become his prospective bride, only to die tragically shortly before their wedding.

‘How can you be so sure it would have been such a disaster to marry Leila?’

‘The same way I’ll know when a girl is right…’

His eyes were glinting with humour and she didn’t want another row. ‘So, tell me about her.’

‘I hadn’t seen Leila since she was little, and in all the years we were betrothed I only met her twice—’

‘Twice?’ Mia interrupted with surprise.

‘The arranged marriage system here in Ramprakesh may seem odd to you, because you come from a very different culture, but Leila’s family and mine were always close.’

‘And you trusted your parents to sort everything out?’

‘That’s just the way it was,’ Ram explained.

‘And what did Leila think?’

‘That she was the luckiest girl in the world, naturally—’

Ram choked as she gave him a whack. ‘And now?’ she said, having allowed some quiet time to pass. ‘How do you feel about Leila now?’

‘I feel sad,’ Ram admitted, ‘because she died so very young.’

She could only feel sorry for Ram’s loss, and for Leila, a girl who had been groomed to be a queen without having any of the freedom and opportunities Mia had enjoyed.

And had been on the point of throwing away, Mia remembered, thinking about her languishing interior design career. She knew then in that moment that she could leave Ramprakesh with or without the contract for Ram’s projects and still pick up her life—

Without Ram…

There wasn’t room for another spear, she told her wounded heart firmly. ‘What about now?’ She dropped the question in casually. ‘How would you feel about an arranged marriage now?’

‘It could never happen. I’m back in Ramprakesh to establish new traditions, not to blindly follow those I don’t agree with.’

‘A rule-breaker?’

‘I’m an individual, Mia. I make my own decisions.’

There was one thing she still didn’t understand. ‘Why did Leila’s death leave you feeling so bitter? I agree it was a terrible tragedy, but it was hardly your fault.’

‘It was an illness, swift and brutal. The man you met at the dockside was Leila’s father. He represents the council as it stands until I introduce a democratically elected government. When Leila died he couldn’t even wait a decent interval before suggesting a list of new prospects.’

‘Maybe he just wanted to keep you here?’

‘I’m prepared to believe that of some people, but not him. He was only interested in promoting those girls whose families he could manipulate.’

‘And continue on with a lifetime of corruption.’

‘Now you understand,’ Ram murmured. Tracing the line of Mia’s cheekbone with his fingertip, he added softly, ‘You always want to think the best of people.’

‘Except you,’ she said wryly. ‘So that’s why you left Ramprakesh—and why, when Leila’s father met me at the dock, he thought I was your new queen. Perhaps he was already trying to work out how he would manipulate me.’

That made Ram laugh. ‘He would discover he had bitten off more than he could chew if he took you on.’

Mia shrugged and smiled, but then her face filled with concern again. ‘Everyone isn’t like Leila’s father, Ram. You’ve seen the people and how they adore you. Don’t turn your back on them—or deny them the occasional festival just because that man used occasions like that to dazzle people so they didn’t look any deeper.’

‘Wise Mia.’

‘I think we’ve both grown up.’ She lay back on the mossy bank. At least Ram’s heart wasn’t taken, so that was good. Where there was life, there was hope—right? She closed her eyes and felt him stretch out his legs alongside her.

‘Shall I fix a marriage for you while you’re here?’ he murmured.

She snapped alert, only to find Ram’s sexy gaze looking down at her. She sat up properly. ‘I’m not some bargaining counter you can dangle under the council’s nose to distract them while you reorganise the country. I’ll marry who I want to marry…’ There was only one man she could ever marry—and as that was out of the question. ‘Or, maybe I’ll never marry.’

Ram whistled softly under his breath. ‘Do I have your permission to broadcast that? Only I think men everywhere deserve to know they’re safe.’

‘Just no more talk of arranged marriages.’

‘Unless I do the arranging.’

‘Keep out of it, Ram,’ Mia murmured, suddenly feeling unutterably weary. Brushing a leaf from her face, she fell silent and a kind of peace fell over their casual picnic with its far from casual discussion, and though they were dozing side by side in the warm night air, Mia felt as far from Ram’s heart as she ever had.

Chapter Sixteen

WHEN they woke the moon was like a lantern high in the sky shining down on them, and Ram reminded Mia that the lake was only minutes away on horseback.

‘Shall we ride there bareback?’ she said. ‘Give them chance to cool their legs?’

‘Why not?’

She couldn’t think of a single reason.

The idea to take the horses for a refreshing swim soon developed into one of their adventures. First they had to race each other at full tilt beneath a canopy of stars, and when they finally reached the shore of the lake Mia was forced to admit defeat, but only by a few yards this time. But if they were friends, she reasoned, there was always a chance she could beat him next time.

‘Enjoying yourself?’ Ram asked her as their mounts moved deeper into the refreshing water.

‘So much,’ Mia exclaimed as her game little mare lunged forward and began to swim. Throwing her head back, she dragged deeply on the fresh night air. Surely it wasn’t possible to feel closer to another human being than this—

Or to be more certain that the intimacy of tonight must end and she was again guilty of longing for things she couldn’t have.

So, make the most of it, she told herself silently—this night

was more than most people experienced in a lifetime, and if it only lasted five minutes they would be the best five minutes of her life.

They allowed the horses to swim for as long as they wanted to—neither Ram nor Mia was in any hurry to bring the night time idyll time to an end. It was as if they both sensed life catching up with them, and knew it could never be as straightforward again.

Ram dismounted first and reached for her. ‘Are you going to get down?’ he said when she hesitated.

When she did it would be the end.

She could dodge reality, but she couldn’t avoid it, Mia concluded as she slid into Ram’s waiting arms.

‘You’re cold,’ he said, embracing her. ‘I’ll build a fire and make you warm.’

All he had to do was hold her.

‘Take your wet clothes off,’ he said.

Ram was still half naked and cool from the water, while Mia’s work jeans and shirt felt like a very heavy second skin. ‘Ram, we shouldn’t—’

‘It’s already done,’ he said, tossing her shirt aside. ‘You’ll never get warm if you stay in those wet clothes.’