by Penny Jordan
There no escape for them, Ash recognised. To retreat back into the plane now would only increase the gathered press’s hunger for their photographs. They had no option other than to try to outface them.
‘Come on.’ He took a firm hold of her arm.
No matter how much she might long to persuade herself that Ash’s hold on her arm was protective it just wasn’t possible, Sophia acknowledged miserably. Not after she had seen the anger in his eyes.
As they neared the bottom of the steps the waiting reporters started firing a barrage of far-too-intimate questions at them, demanding, ‘Is it true that the two of you are an item and that you’ve left a fiancé behind on Santina?’
‘Have you any comment to make on the fact that you’ve spent the night together?’
‘Does King Eduardo know that the two of you are together?’
‘Are you together, or is the princess going to go back to her fiancé?’
‘Did you enjoy your in-flight entertainment, Your Highness?’
The last comment given with a knowing leer as a camera was lifted to catch her expression was too much for Sophia’s control. She turned towards Ash, instinctively seeking his protection as she clung to his arm and turned her face into his chest.
‘Thanks, darling,’ the photographer called out. ‘Great shot.’
‘So I was right. You did engineer this,’ Ash accused Sophia in a savage undertone. ‘Have you no sense of dignity or shame? What do you think it’s going to do to your own reputation, never mind your father’s and your fiancé’s, when this … this circus of predators splash their photographs all over the world? Or don’t you care?’
‘I didn’t do anything.’ Sophia tried to defend herself, her voice catching on a small hiccup of misery. She was trembling as much with the hurt of Ash not believing her as with the anxiety caused by the unexpected and unwanted presence of the press. She was, of course, used to being besieged by the press; she was even used to them asking her very intimate questions about her personal life and the men she dated, but then she had had the protection of knowing that no matter what they chose to believe and publish none of it was true. Now, though, things were different. Now she had been seen with Ash in a very intimate situation, indeed. ‘Why would I? I don’t want my father to know that I’m here. I don’t want him to know anything until I’m safely in London.’
‘Well, no one else could have organised it.’ Ash only began to frown as out of the corner of his eye he saw the steward sidling up to one of the reporters who handed him a fat envelope, whilst the steward glanced furtively over his shoulder.
It looked very much as though Sophia was telling the truth, Ash had to admit, but there was no time to question the steward now or, in fact, to do anything that would draw further press attention to them, he decided.
‘This way,’ he instructed Sophia, still holding her arm as he pushed his way through the crowd, almost dragging her with him as he headed for the waiting limousine.
‘What’s this for?’ Sophia demanded when she saw it. ‘I need to be in the airport sorting out my flight to London.’
‘And I need to be in my office for a very important meeting,’ Ash countered, ‘which is where we’re going right now, unless of course you want me to leave you to be eaten alive by the press. We can sort out your onward flight later.’
The thought of being abandoned by Ash to deal with the ever-hungry-for-gossip paparazzi had Sophia getting into the waiting limousine without another word of protest.
The car was soon speeding through the city streets. Sophia had never visited Mumbai or India before, although she’d always wanted to—and not just because the subcontinent was Ash’s home. She was genuinely interested in what she could see beyond the car windows and couldn’t help turning to Ash and murmuring, ‘Everything’s so colourful and vibrant. It makes everywhere else I’ve been seem pale and uninteresting.’
They’d come to a halt in the traffic and out of nowhere a boy appeared with a bucket of water and proceeded to clean the car’s front windows, despite the driver’s dismissive wave for him to stop.
A tender smile softened Sophia’s face. Thin and wiry, the boy gave her a wide smile, his brown eyes sparkling when he realised that Sophia was watching him, and quickly came round to her side of the car.
Watching her as she dug into her handbag, Ash felt something he didn’t want to acknowledge catching on his emotions.
Nasreen had thoroughly disliked the poor of India, and had made no attempt to conceal her contempt for them.
‘Here you are.’ He dug into his own pocket for some change, knowing that she would not have any Indian currency.
The car had started to move again.
‘Oh, make him stop, Ash, so that I can give the boy the money,’ Sophia begged, giving Ash a smile nearly as warm as the one she had given the boy when he did as she asked.
It would be unbelievably easy for a man to be seduced by the warmth of such a smile, Ash acknowledged. And by Sophia herself, as well? He shrugged as the question arose, knowing full well as he did so just how much his body was still aching from the denial he had imposed on it.
They were out of the centre of the city now and travelling on a road along a sea-facing promenade. On the other side of the road Sophia was surprised to see that the buildings had a distinctly art-deco flavour to them, but before she could ask Ash about this they were climbing along another road into what Sophia could see was a very exclusive-looking residential area filled with expensive modern apartment blocks.
Sophia wasn’t totally surprised when the limousine came to a halt outside one building that looked even more expensive than the rest.
‘My case,’ she reminded Ash, avoiding the hand he held out to her to help her from the car. She simply did not dare to touch him, not with every bit of her still aching with longing for him.
‘The driver will have it sent up to the apartment,’ Ash told her. He looked at his watch, mindful of his appointment. It shouldn’t take too long for him to organise a suitable flight to London for Sophia. He could, of course, have left her to fend for herself but that wasn’t Ash’s way. He had been brought up with a strong sense of responsibility towards his heritage and a duty to those who depended on him. That was part of the role into which he had been born as maharaja.
When he had children, a son, an heir—as he must—he would make sure that whilst that child understood the duties that went with the privilege and the wealth he would inherit, he would not be burdened by them. A child needed to be allowed to be a child. And between parent and child there needed to be love, as well as mutual respect. As an orphan he had missed out on that love, but even having parents did not guarantee it. Sophia was the proof of that.
Sophia. There he was allowing himself to feel sympathetic towards her again. His footsteps ringing out on the cool marble of the floor to the foyer of the apartment building, Ash paused to turn round to look at her.
Her dark hair was softly tousled, her face free of makeup, her eyes dark and luminous with curiosity as she studied her surroundings. Her lips parted slightly.
To his chagrin, desire, raw and fierce, and definitely unwanted, kicked through him, causing him to turn away from her as he told her curtly, ‘The lift is this way.’
Reluctantly Sophia followed Ash. She’d have preferred it if he’d simply left her at the airport to make her own arrangements to board the first available flight for London. The lift, like the building itself, was very modern in glass and steel, and Sophia wasn’t surprised when she followed Ash into his apartment to discover a large open-plan living space with a whole wall of glass and a terrace beyond it, both with panoramic views. Nor did the decor of cool whites, charcoal greys and strong matt black surprise her, either. It was all so very masculine. Like Ash himself? A dangerous twist of sensation ached low down in her body.
‘Sit down. I’ll organise some breakfast.’
‘I’m not hungry,’ Sophia refused. ‘All I want is to get to London. I wa
nted you to leave me at the airport and not bring me here—’ She broke off as her mobile chirruped the arrival of a message, her body tensing. They’d know at home by now that she wasn’t there.
Ash had left her and she was on her own in the room. She reached for her phone, seeing immediately that the text she’d received was from Carlotta.
OMG, Sophia, her sister had written, what were you thinking? You being caught in bed with Ash is all over the internet. And I mean all over. There are reporters here and they’re grilling Father about you joining the mile-high club with Ash. He didn’t answer them, of course. He just stormed out the room. He’s really angry, Soph. And humiliated. I hope it was worth it. In my experience, though, it never is.
Quickly Sophia deleted the message, her fingers trembling and her heart pounding.
In the kitchen of Ash’s apartment the television was on showing a bulletin from a local English-speaking news channel. The sight of his own face on the screen had Ash stopping to watch.
A reporter was explaining that following the press discovery of Ash and Sophia together on his jet an announcement had just been put out by a spokesperson for the Santina royal family to say that, regrettably, when Princess Sophia had informed her father that he was about to be asked for her hand in marriage, he had been unaware of her whirlwind love affair with the Maharaja of Nailpur and had assumed that she was referring to another royal suitor.
The matter had now been clarified however, and the king was pleased to announce that Princess Sophia was engaged to be married to the maharaja.
Leaving the kitchen abruptly Ash returned to the living room of the apartment, reaching for the control to reveal the concealed TV screen.
‘I’ve found a flight with a seat on it but it doesn’t leave until this evening,’ Sophia told him. She’d have preferred an earlier flight and it went against her pride to have to accept Ash’s hospitality for longer than she wanted.
‘Watch this,’ he commanded grimly, ignoring her words as he switched on the TV which was running a weather bulletin.
‘What—?’ Sophia began, but Ash shook his head.
‘Wait,’ he said tersely.
For what felt like a small eternity Sophia stood in silence in front of the TV screen, not daring to move because of Ash’s grim manner, and then she heard the news reader’s announcement.
‘There is sad news to report for Mumbai’s matchmakers because today the King of Santina has announced that his daughter the Princess Sophia is to marry the Maharaja of Nailpur.’
With a growing sense of disbelief and horror Sophia watched and listened as the news item Ash had seen earlier was repeated.
Only when it had finished did she turn to Ash and tell him shakily, ‘You’ll have to speak to him, Ash, and tell him—’
‘I shall certainly have to speak to him, and the sooner, the better, but he obviously felt he had no other choice,’ said Ash coldly. ‘There’s only one person responsible for this situation, Sophia, and that person is you. You put yourself on my plane.’
There was nothing she could say to refute that, no matter how much she might wish to. Ash was opening his smartphone. He looked so grimly angry that for the first time in her life Sophia felt that she was facing a man who was even more formidable than her father. Far more formidable, in fact. This was Ash the maharaja, Ash the leader and the ruler of his people. This was an Ash who instinctively she knew would stop at nothing to defend the probity and honour of his royal role, and a quake of very real apprehension made her tremble inwardly.
The speed with which his call was put through to King Eduardo told Ash that the king had been expecting it. Indeed it was Ash’s opinion that the royal spokesperson had given the statement he had specifically to ensure that Ash did contact the king.
‘Ash.’ The older man’s voice was harsh and Ash suspected the use of his own first name intended to make him a supplicant for the king’s forgiveness rather than an equal.
‘Highness.’ Ash still responded formally, though. ‘There has obviously been a misunderstanding.’
‘A misunderstanding?’ Anger grated through the king’s voice. ‘There’s no misunderstanding about the fact that you have publicly shamed this family and Sophia’s fiancé.’
‘I understand your anger, Your Highness, but I can assure you that nothing happened that either you or Sophia’s fiancé need be concerned about.’ Ash spoke crisply whilst Sophia listened, white-faced and feeling far more distressed than she wanted to admit to.
Was it because of that, because of what he could see in her agonised expression, that he told her father in a more conciliatory tone, ‘The truth is that Sophia was overwhelmed by the unexpectedness of your announcement of her engagement. In a moment of panic she boarded my plane unbeknownst to me, intending to make her way to London. An impulsive, ill-thought-out action, I acknowledge, but without any intention of causing anyone embarrassment.’
‘And you discussed this together in bed on board your plane, did you? Do you take me for a complete fool? Sophia may not want to get married but she has no choice. And that’s her own fault. She’s never out of the gossip columns, with her name linked to a different man every week, and now this.’
Her father was speaking so loudly and angrily that Sophia could hear what he was saying. Her face burned, and she might be hurting inside but she wasn’t going to defend herself. Her father didn’t understand her, he never had.
‘Well, there’s only one thing to be done now,’ said King Eduardo. ‘You must marry her yourself, and as quickly as possible. Unless and until you do, she will no longer be considered a member of this family. If you don’t marry her then I shall disown and disinherit her. She’s brought more than enough shame and trouble on this family. The only way she can redeem herself now and put a stop to this appalling gossip is by marriage to you.’
There was a sharp click as the king ended their call without giving Ash the opportunity to reply.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE king had put him in a completely untenable position and Ash could see from Sophia’s expression that she had heard what her father had said. For himself he could feel the ferocity of the opposing emotional claims at war within him. His pride baulked at the thought of anyone, even a fellow royal, dictating to him what he had to do. Yet his own sense of duty to his heritage, to his friendship with Sophia’s brother, and in a sense to Sophia herself, to save her from the disgrace and humiliation she would suffer if he refused to marry her, told him what he must do.
‘My father doesn’t mean what he just said,’ Sophia told Ash unsteadily. Her father’s statement had shocked her, but what had shocked her even more was the swift pain it gave her to have to contrast her youthful dreams of what marriage to Ash would be like and the harsh reality of what was happening now. Then she had dreamed romantically of a relationship filled with love and happiness. The bitter taste of the ashes of those foolish dreams clogged her throat. ‘We can’t marry, Ash.’
‘We don’t have any choice,’ Ash responded brutally.
‘I want to marry for love.’
‘You lost the right to make that choice when you hid yourself away on my plane.’
His words hurt, but hadn’t she told herself all those years ago that she would never allow Ash to hurt her again, and that she would be completely immune to him? Immune to him? Just as she had been in the cabin of his plane. It should be her face that was burning but instead to her chagrin it was her body that was engulfed by heat at the memory her thoughts had brought her.
‘I lost it the minute I was born,’ she countered tartly, but Ash made no response.
Looking at him and seeing the resolution etched into his hard expression, the apprehension she had felt earlier turned into a much stronger fear. Just as those unwanted shocking moments on the plane had shown her a side of herself and the power of her own sensuality that had overwhelmed her, what was happening now was showing her a side to Ash that as a child and then a teenager she had never considered. As s
he had recognised earlier, the man in front of her was Ash the royal prince, the leader of his people, a man who would allow nothing to stand in his way of doing what he thought was right for the responsibility he owed to his people. Right now, she suspected, that included her, hence that icy trickle of fear that had just run down her spine.
A fear that was reinforced when Ash told her coldly, ‘I am in the middle of some very important business negotiations with people to whom the morals of those with whom they do deals are very important. If I don’t marry you my reputation as a man of honour will be damaged. I cannot allow that to happen. I have a duty to my ancestors—and more importantly, to my people. Their future, the education of their children and their childrens’ futures depend to a large extent on me bringing more money into our local economy and keeping it there to provide better opportunities for them. All that will be prejudiced if it becomes known, as it most assuredly will, that your father has insisted that I marry you and I have refused. That is the way it is amongst people of our inherited status and blood, Sophia. You know that as well as I do.’
Every word he said confirmed what she had already recognised. Now she knew exactly what his priorities were and they certainly weren’t her feelings.
Ash turned away from Sophia and looked out of the window.
This was the last situation he wanted, but he had no choice. The honour of his name had to come before his own personal feelings. And he had to marry someone. In the eyes of the outer world, their outer world, his marriage to Sophia would be seen as a businesslike and wholly acceptable decision. He had to have an heir. He had always known that. An heir created with Sophia in a dutiful coming together for that purpose? For an unguarded second he remembered how it had been between them on board his plane. He tried to close down on that memory but it was too late. Without looking at her he heard himself telling her more openly than his need to control his reactions liked, ‘We may both know that a marriage between us is not what either of us would have chosen, but since we have no choice, at least on the evidence of last night, we will share a mutually pleasurable sex life. And as I am sure you will know from your own experience, good sex enhances the lives of those who share that good sex.’