Maharaja's Mistress

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by Susan Stephens


  ‘You’re quite right—and I have the best idea for that.’

  When things were going the way she thought she wanted them to she didn’t like it. So when things started going the way she definitely didn’t want them to she should like it even less—right?

  Wrong, Mia discovered as Ram took her wrist in a firm grip and hurried her away from his attendants, pushing branches heavy with blossom aside as he took her deeper into the forest of concealing trees.

  Predictably, she was instantly on fire for him. ‘No, Ram—no. I mean it,’ she protested. ‘I’m warning you—’

  ‘Would you refuse the attentions of your Lord and Master?’

  ‘You bet I would,’ she assured him as Ram backed her into an exquisitely ornamented garden room and shut the door.

  Leaning back against it, he demanded, ‘Even if you knew those attentions were good for you?’

  ‘This is good for me?’ she said, pretending surprise as Ram quickly dispensed with her skirt and briefs.

  ‘This is the promised stress relief activity,’ he murmured, ‘though you’ll have to promise not to scream too loud. The ladies know to stay on the avenue, but they’re not deaf.’

  ‘And so what are we supposed to be doing in here?’

  ‘What maharajas and their ladies have been doing here for millennia.’

  Heat exploded inside her as Ram backed her up against the wall. ‘I said no sex,’ she protested, scrambling up him.

  ‘That was last night—and this is purely for therapeutic reasons,’ Ram explained, thrusting his sword aside.

  ‘Ah—oh—yes—I think you may be right,’ Mia said, drowning in sensation as Ram secured her buttocks in his big, strong hands and took her deep. ‘So it doesn’t count,’ she confirmed shakily as he began to move.

  ‘Not at all. Feel free to enjoy it.’

  ‘And afterwards it will be as if it never happened?’

  ‘There’s only so much my ego can take. Now concentrate, will you? We don’t want you to be late for your appointment with the design committee.’

  Concentrate? She was already there. I think I love you, she thought. Or did she scream that too?

  Mia got together with Ram in his private office after her design meeting with his committee.

  ‘You haven’t got all the proper funding in place yet, Mia,’ Ram pointed out. ‘Or the experience to handle the interior design of both the house and the yacht.’

  ‘Okay, you win,’ she shouted, dropping her files on the top of his desk. ‘I give up—’

  ‘No, you don’t,’ Ram ground out, baiting her with a stare. ‘You never expected this to be easy—but that doesn’t mean you give up.’

  ‘All right, I don’t. But if I’m forced to work with several other design companies, then I’m going to insist I stay on here in Ramprakesh to be sure my ideas are handled properly.’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Ram had difficulty curbing his smile. ‘You can’t be serious about staying on? How will I survive it?’ He caught the tiny furled hand and brought it to his lips before Mia could waste any more of her energy pounding on him. ‘Don’t you know I want you here?’ he murmured, brushing his lips against her neck.

  ‘What? As your royal concubine—I don’t think so, Ram.’

  ‘I wasn’t thinking of a post that allowed for quite so much time off—I was thinking more…royal project manager?’

  ‘Isn’t that like a catch-all term for a gofer?’

  ‘Well, I can think of plenty of things you can go for—and come for, now I think about it.’

  ‘Will you stop that?’ Mia demanded, finding she couldn’t stop her smile either. Just the thought of being with Ram—working again at a job she loved—was enough to make her deliriously happy. ‘I realise this is the right decision for me to make from a professional point of view—I still have a lot to learn—and you can stop looking at me as if you want to say I told you so.’

  ‘Would I do that?’

  ‘Anyone who can wind me up with that play-act of a courtship is capable of anything.’

  ‘But I was being serious,’ he insisted.

  ‘Yeah, right. And you can stop trying to destress me too—we both know where that leads.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad you’ve decided to stay. I think we’re on the brink of something really exciting in Ramprakesh.’

  ‘The birth of a new Golden Age?’

  ‘You can call it that.’

  ‘It could be if we make it so,’ Mia agreed thoughtfully. ‘Do you really think we can?’ She stared out across the terracotta rooftops over a magical kingdom of towering golden cupolas and slender ivory towers.

  ‘I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe that,’ Ram said, turning serious. ‘And with your designs and my determination—’

  ‘With my determination, and your money—’

  ‘Gold-digger—’

  ‘Scrooge—’

  ‘Shameless hussy—’

  ‘I’ll settle for that—’

  ‘No, you won’t,’ Ram insisted, and, taking hold of her hands, he stared deep into Mia’s eyes. ‘You’re far too special to talk about yourself like that. And when I take a wife—’

  Heaving a sigh, she cut across him. ‘Criteria?’ She didn’t want to go there—but she couldn’t escape the fact that one day Ram would take a wife.

  ‘Criteria?’ he said. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, you gave me the post of royal project manager, so who else is going to sort out a wife for you?’

  ‘Good point,’ Ram agreed. ‘I’d better come up with a few pointers for you…Let’s start with a good homemaker—then, someone as wise as she is beautiful…someone strong enough to support and defend her family as well as my country…someone I can rub along with, naturally—’

  ‘But not in the garden room,’ Mia warned. ‘Naturally, or not, that’s our place, Ram.’

  ‘For clandestine meetings.’ His lips pressed down as he thought about it. ‘I like your thinking.’

  ‘You’re supposed to be taking this seriously.’

  ‘Believe me, I am. Now, would you like me to show you your new office?’

  ‘An office for me here at the palace?’ she exclaimed with surprise.

  It was nice to catch Mia on the wrong foot occasionally. ‘Of course—until you’ve designed a new one for yourself at my new home.’

  She’d need one there in order to supervise the design work, Mia reasoned. ‘Okay,’ she said, her curiosity thoroughly piqued by now. ‘You’d better lead the way…’

  It was all packing cases and chaos inside her new office at the palace and Mia was amazed to discover that her brother had already sent over everything she had ever cared for that was connected to her passion for design—all the books, all the trade articles, the posters and magazines, all the newspaper clippings. ‘How did Tom know to do this?’

  ‘We spoke on the phone,’ Ram said, dipping his head to stare at her. ‘You can’t expect us to cease all communications just because I’ve been seeing you, Mia. Your brother and I have been close since we were boys and nothing’s going to change that. Plus we both love you—’

  ‘In your own very distinct ways,’ she agreed, making light of Ram’s careless choice of words. ‘Well, it’s fantastic and I’m thrilled—but who paid for all the rest of it?’ She was picking her way between some very impressive equipment as well as new furniture.

  ‘A friend of yours—’

  ‘You?’

  ‘Don’t look so scandalised. I expect you to pay me back when you become successful—which you will be.’

  ‘You’ve got a lot of confidence in me—I only hope it isn’t misplaced.’

  ‘That’s up to you, Mia. I’m not doing you any favours. You’ve earned the chance to do this and now you have to earn the right to stay.’

  She turned an amused glance his way. ‘There’s nothing like lacing a challenge with a hefty dose of threat.’

  ‘Would you have it any other way? You never wanted things easy.
Hey, stop that,’ he said as she absent-mindedly traced her scars. ‘I don’t want to see you do that ever again. Do you understand me?’

  His voice was so fierce she snatched her hand away.

  And then Ram completely distracted her when he began to rifle through the tower of packages on her new and extremely impressive desk. ‘Why don’t you let the royal project manager find whatever it is you’re looking for?’

  ‘This is a job for an expert,’ he insisted, tossing stuff aside. ‘I feel a musical moment coming on.’

  And a light went on in her brain. ‘If that wretched lute has found its way in here,’ she threatened, joining him in the sea of bubble wrap and cardboard, ‘it can go straight back home.’

  She narrowed her eyes suspiciously as Ram pulled back. ‘Go, find, tiger,’ he murmured.

  ‘I knew it,’ Mia exclaimed, spotting a tell-tale slender wooden neck. ‘You know what I said—and I jolly well mean it. If you start twanging that thing in here I’ll beat you over the head with it. Give it to me,’ she warned as Ram held the instrument over her head.

  But when she snatched it from him something jangled inside it. ‘Oh, no…Don’t tell me I’ve broken it.’ She might not want Ram to play the old lute, but it was a family heirloom, and she’d had it as a sort of lucky charm in her room growing up. And now she could see that highly decorated filigree rose carved by a craftsman into the wood was missing from the centre of the soundboard. ‘Did I do that?’

  ‘I don’t know—did you?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’ Mia examined the gaping hole again and groaned. ‘Surely I couldn’t have been so careless.’

  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.

&
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.

 

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