You Can't Fight a Royal Attraction (18 page)

She leaned back further, winding her arms around his neck and nuzzling her cheek against a scratchy jaw. ‘The temptation was just too much.’

‘Can’t disagree with you there,’ he murmured, stopping to steal a brief kiss. ‘By the way, why are you on the Pill?’

‘I wasn’t taking a chance with you around.’ She giggled, then her teasing expression became serious. ‘I’ve had to be careful about not getting pregnant. Munish wanted children but things weren’t good between us even few months into the marriage and I felt it wasn’t a healthy environment to bring a child into. So I was always careful…’ She shrugged. ‘Then I knew I was attracted to you. Very attracted. I didn’t trust myself to that extent, not to forget the basic precautions.’

His gaze was dark. ‘Shall I tell you how that makes me feel?’ He loved that about her, that honest confession of her feelings. ‘Not to mention the sexy surge of being told I’m so desired is enough to make my day… On second thoughts, it could be made better.’ He bent his head and kissed her.

She sighed when he stopped. ‘Still can’t believe I did it with a prince.’

A smile brought a familiar gleam to his eyes. ‘Are you sure that wasn’t half the charm?’

‘It could have been. Intriguing thought!’ She tilted her head to one side. ‘You know how they say royal people used to have a decadent imagination? I heard a
nawab
or
someone had a bed with naked stone statues at all four posts of his bed. Do you have something outrageous like that? With music playing from a box?’

‘Maybe I have.’ He bit her earlobe. ‘Come tonight and find out.’

‘Tonight…’ She paused, suddenly zapped out of the moment. He went still too. Realising what he had said.

The moment broken, she straightened away from him.

‘Oh God!’ Rihaan raked a hand through his hair. Reality dripped, cold and inexorable, into a consciousness still too reluctant to acknowledge it.

‘You should go,’ she said quietly for both of them. The fun and frolic was over. Time to face hard truth now.

‘Saira…’ He caught her to him. ‘Just remember, this was worth… a lot to me. This time was most special to me. You’re the best, that’s all, the best.’ He gave her a quick, hard kiss.

Then he was gone and she was alone. With the memories.

She hadn’t expected it to feel so… so shattering. It had been just sex, she reminded herself. Be cool about it and let it go. But she knew she couldn’t. She had underrated the havoc he could wreak on her peace, underrated the powerful sensation of his possession, had never thought that the surging abandon, the total surrender of the night would leave a want that became an emptiness in the soul…

Madness. She was crazy to think of him. Crazy to want him, to even imagine he was attainable. She didn’t
want
involvement, remember? All she’d wanted was pleasure and he had more than given what he had promised all along. Now it was time to move on.

The party was over.

The Maharaja hadn’t kidded about his intention.

The evidence was all over the palace. In the gallery the gilded frames were being taken down to be polished.
Viren cancelled their Jaipur trip because a designer was coming for an apparel meeting. At noon, a representative was dispatched to deal with the dozens of reporters teeming the grounds.

And Rihaan? Rihaan had become suddenly unapproachable.

It was only natural that Maharaj should want him with him at all times. There must be tons of things to be discussed. But it was a shock to find the writer whose priority was his cave to disappear into should be suddenly the pivot of this buzz and whirlwind of activity. It was a shock because she had become used to laying a claim on his time.

Reality check, Saira. You never had any claim on it. Or on him.

The realisation shouldn’t leave her frozen inside. But it did. His being apart from her shouldn’t hurt this much. But it did.

Saira crept downstairs. The palace was nearly settled for the night but she couldn’t sleep. Her room, however vast, felt claustrophobic. Maybe she could take a walk in the courtyard.

That was, if she ever found her way out of this maze.

Somehow in the dim light she had taken a wrong turn somewhere and she found herself facing a passage like the one which led to the Maharaja’s sitting room. A figure crossed the end of it to the other side. Her heart flew into her mouth for a second till she calmed it down. Then jumped again as the figure came backtracking to see her.

He stepped forward. It was Viren. ‘Oh, it’s you, Saira,’ he said.

He was dressed in street clothes; he must be going out. Seeing him, she was reminded she hadn’t even changed for the night.

‘Party tonight?’ she teased softly. ‘Or maybe a bar night,’ she judged from the casual dress.

‘Something like that. What are you doing? Not planning to rob our castle?’ he teased back.

‘No, I haven’t found anything worth taking.’ The joke fell flat as she felt the bite of it. She bit her lip. Suddenly the feeling of claustrophobia cloaked her again. She would ask Rihaan to make arrangements for her to leave tomorrow, she thought on impulse. With him and yet without him, this palace felt as if it would eat her alive.

‘Viren, can you tell me where Rihaan’s room is?’ she asked urgently, not caring that the man’s eyes widened slightly, a speculative light entering his eyes.

‘So that’s the way the wind is blowing. I have suspected but… does Rihaan realise he is playing with fire?’

She had no time for rhetorical questions. ‘Viren, please. I… I need to talk to him.’ She did. But about what? She had nothing to tell him. Yet so much.

‘Saira…’ he caught her arm to get her attention ‘…don’t go down that road. Please don’t.’ She stilled at his earnest words. Her gaze was snared by the ink on his forearm, an identical mark to the one Rihaan wore. He followed her look and said, ‘It’s the emblem of our house. It stands for loyalty and bravery. Loyalty,’ he reiterated, ‘do you know how much it means to us?’

‘Family feeling.’ She knew it. Hadn’t she seen the suffering Rihaan didn’t disclose to anyone, pain that had festered inside him when he had been away from his clan?

‘Yes,’ Viren agreed. ‘I can assure you, you have no future with Rihaan. You know marriages in the
rajmahal
are set through birth, not taking into account the person. Or their wishes.’ Brown eyes, dark with feeling, fixed on her. ‘Why do you think Nadira is so ideal as a wife for the future Maharaja of Prabhatgarh? Our family follows the rule of the male primogeniture, by the issue of Rajput mothers
only. While the kingdom exists no longer, the rites are still closely adhered to. The people still honour their king and they want the family to be involved in administration. After Rihaan left, the people started distrusting the name. Now they are looking for the order to be restored.’ He gave her arm a slight shake for emphasis. ‘Do you follow? There’s no future for you with Rihaan. Don’t set yourself up for heartbreak.’

‘Will you just tell me the way, Viren? You’re misunderstanding things. Rihaan and I, we don’t have anything going.’ It was all gone, she thought hollowly. Oh God, why hadn’t she seen this coming?

He gave her the directions and left. The reality of it surged through her. Rihaan was going to be out of her life for ever. She blinked away tears. Too late to wish for them, too late to wish last night had never happened.

Besides she would have plenty of time to cry later.

Rihaan paced his bedroom like a caged animal. The Maharaja had asked him again to accept Nadira’s hand in marriage. It had been difficult to ward him off. But however his head commanded his muscles, his tongue refused to form the words. Still he couldn’t delay for ever.

Was he doing the right thing? For the first time in his life he knew uncertainty and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

Was he adjusting his loved career for a shot at playing the royal prince? The script he had started now promised to develop into a novel. He could continue to write but would being a Maharaja affect that? Would they want nothing but snippets of royal affairs from a Maharaja? Would he even have time to irrigate and ripen his creativity or would his dreams become buried under the responsibilities he was planning to take on?

It would be his own will, he reminded himself. People
did find time to juggle duties with dreams. He was only doing what was right.

Was he, though?

What about what he was missing right now. Saira’s warmth. Her laughter… the honesty he loved—

Loved?
Where had that come from? He wasn’t into love. The key word in his dictionary was responsibility now. In fact it began and ended with it.

A knock sounded on the door, almost sending relief through him as the stream of his thoughts was broken.

‘Saira!’ Not the person he wanted to see. The one woman who posed danger to the course his life was set on.

She looked anything but dangerous. Soft, tremulous mouth, huge dark eyes. Her slight build gave the impression of a small girl, clad in jeans and a T-shirt that hugged her curves and dispelled the same impression.

‘Can we talk?’

She moistened her lips nervously and desire banked with difficulty, erupted like a flood. Talk was the last thing he wanted as torturing images of the previous night arose, the sheer eroticism pulsing in his senses putting paid to any sense he wanted to hold onto.

‘Come in.’ A wonder that his voice sounded only marginally hoarse when his whole being was on fire.

‘Well, of course, rather late in the day, but congratulations over the prospective coronation,’ she said, her voice too bright.

‘Save them for the event.’ His own dampening response surprised him.

‘I may not be here then.’

His head snapped up. ‘Why?’

She shrugged. ‘Rihaan, you are going to begin a new life. You’ll be settling down… people will need your attention… Me? I have to get on with my life.’ As though reminded, she added, ‘I’m planning to take up dress designing;
I need training and I want to get to it, like right now. So if you could just sort out my flight back—’

‘No!’ The denial was instinctive. He attempted to temper it, conscious that he had startled her. ‘At least stay for the big day.’

She drew in her breath slowly, as though preparing herself. ‘Rihaan, be honest. You don’t want me here. I’ve heard your engagement with Nadira will be announced simultaneously at the coronation. It would be awkward to say the least and after what passed between us…’ She swallowed and turned away. But as though hooked to his, her gaze came back. He inhaled sharply at what he saw there. Anguish. Yearning. Regret.

‘Saira!’ Something broke inside him and he couldn’t keep from touching her, catching hold of her arms. But she was shaking her head, denying him the right. ‘Let me go, Rihaan. It would make things impossible.’

‘Then let’s make them simple. Marry me and stay here. Be my wife… my queen.’

The shock of what he had said swept through them both. He let her go, feeling hit by a tornado. He swept a hand over his face.

Silence like the end result of an explosion stretched, drawing tension taut to an even finer degree than before.

‘Oh God…’ She tried a laugh. ‘Last night can’t have been
that
good.’

‘I mean it, Saira.’

Pain ripped through her, leaving her feeling raw, exposed, vulnerable. Even more vulnerable because he was finally letting her see what he was feeling.

Or, rather, what he was feeling right now, she told herself. The heat of the moment. The purple haze of passion that hadn’t yet abated.

You don’t want to marry me Rihaan. I’m not worth it…

The words echoed in her brain. She didn’t want to sound
like a tortured broken creature so she bit them back. Marry Rihaan. Oh God! Tears were already starting. Any minute they would flood over.

‘I’m honoured, really,’ she managed. ‘A proposal by a prince. One doesn’t get many of those!’

‘You want me,’ he said with conviction. ‘You like me enough. We can build on that.’

‘I wanted you, it’s true, but only for one night,’ she corrected. ‘It was supposed to be a night, that’s all. Not a lifetime. I like going to the beach but I don’t like bringing the sand home.’ Must be the stupidest thing to say to the man who’d just proposed to you. ‘I might want you but I certainly don’t want a husband.’ Did that sound any better?
Hell.

‘What would happen to the united front father and son are supposed to put up?’ she asked more practically.

‘We’ll worry about that later. First tell me your proper answer. Tell me what you want—’

‘I don’t
know
what I want, Rihaan,’ she said with some violence. ‘I’m still finding the way out of the darkness. It isn’t easy. And you’re just making it impossible for me…’

It was a dream, a golden dream that she was being drawn into. And every word he spoke drew the net a little tighter around her. To be wanted like that was a fulfilment that made her tears flow. A rich sensation that seeped through her. But she knew too he had spoken without thinking. Who could trust the highs of emotion? She had felt them herself but it had all been a mirage that shattered cruelly for her. When it hadn’t lasted with Munish, who had professed to love her, what hope did she have with Rihaan who merely desired her?

Rihaan wasn’t Munish. She knew he’d stand by her, no matter what. She didn’t doubt his integrity. He had that solid core of loyalty and decency which had shielded
Nadira while taking the brunt of his father’s reaction on himself. He would never let a woman down.

But what of his own wants? She had seen his fierce desire to be reunited with his family, she had seen the pleasure mixed with regret when he’d stepped onto his land. She had witnessed his moistening eyes when he’d hugged his mother. Everything that spoke of his attachment to his roots.

Could she take him away from all that? Force him to break his father’s word once again and possibly cause another family rift? What would happen when he found she wasn’t enough to make it all worth it…

Whatever happened, she wasn’t going to come between a man and his family again. She wouldn’t force him to choose.