Page 25 of Trapped By the Maharaja

By the time Sanjana stepped into the Devara Palace, nighttime had fallen.

Lalita and Kumari approached immediately, bowing. “Maharani, the Maharaja has not yet returned. Will you be dining in the formal hall?”

Sanjana shook her head. “No. Please… bring something light to the master suite.”

She didn’t want to sit in the large dining hall all alone.

She went up to the master suite, and then straight to the bathroom. Stripping out of her hospital clothes, she stepped into shower. The hot shower was bliss, loosening her muscles and rinsing away the day’s exhaustion. But it didn’t completely remove her anger and nervousness.

After the board meeting, the congratulations continued along with speculation. She had ignored the speculation, but not the reason behind it.

Clenching her teeth, she stepped out, and towel-dried her hair. Leaving it loose around her shoulders, she wore pale cotton nightclothes instead of silk, since she wasn’t going to be dining in the formal room.

Feeling slightly calmer, she stepped out of the closet area, only to stop short.

Her heart began racing. Ram was back.

He was seated at the small dining table in the suite with his arms loosely folded and his eyes unreadable. Slowly, without greeting or acknowledging his presence, she took the chair opposite him.

Lalita and Kumari entered, placing bowls of fragrant rice, spiced vegetables and meat, and her favorite rice dessert on the table. Sanjana thanked them with a smile.

Smiling back at her, then bowing slightly to Ram, both women, closing the doors behind them.

Sanjana didn’t wait. “Why did you come to the board meeting today?” she demanded. “And why did you announce you will oversee the hospital expansion personally?”

Ram didn’t look up as he served food onto his plate. “Why not?” he asked in a casual tone. “The hospital belongs to me.”

Sanjana’s jaw tightened.

“I’m not a fool, Ram. Maharajas, who are also billionaire businessmen, don’t oversee pediatric wing construction at mid-sized hospitals in person. It’s not the norm.”

He finally looked at her. There was a quiet, dangerous glint in his eyes.

“I don’t follow rules or norms,” he said evenly. “And neither do you.”

Her cheeks heated.

“Don’t compare us,” she snapped. “We’re nothing alike. You are a maharaja who grew up in palaces, and I grew up at an orphanage. We don’t come from the same world!”

His reply was cool. “You are in my world now, Sanjana. As my wife.”

Her heart thudded at his reminder. “Only for three years,” she reminded. “You also promised that until the formal announcement is made, our marriage will be kept a secret at the hospital. But your visit to the hospital today has caused speculation.”

He didn’t say anything.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm down. She knew he didn’t have to agree to anything that was beyond what was signed in the contract. But so far, he hadn’t brought that up or challenged her.

With her heart thudding, she dragged her gaze away from him and focused on her meal. She enjoyed her meal despite her stomach fluttering constantly at his presence.

When she was done with her creamy, delicious, subtly flavored rice dessert, she placed the spoon aside and looked at him. “I have to catch up on work,” she murmured.

Without waiting for his reply, she got up and went far away from his dominating presence, towards the sitting area in the suite. She picked up her files and began reviewing them.

Her heart thudded in nervousness and unwanted anticipation.

She kept her eyes fixed on the file in her lap, though she wasn’t reading a word. From the corner of her vision, she saw Ram rise from the dining table with that unhurried grace that somehow made her stomach clench. He walked into the bathroom, the door shutting with a soft click.

She exhaled, finally allowing her shoulders to slump. For a brief moment, she thought she had escaped the tension of his presence.

But a few moments later, when the bathroom door opened again, her breath caught.

He had stripped down to only loose black night pants, his upper body bare.

Droplets clung to his hair, sliding down his temple before tracing the hard lines of his chest. The lamplight caught every angle of his broad shoulders, the sculpted planes of his abdomen and the ridged muscles across his arms.

Her cheeks flamed hot, and she quickly bent her head, pretending to study the page in her file.

Just when she hoped he would fall asleep quickly, she felt his presence near her.

Her eyes jerked up in shock. Ram had lowered himself onto the other corner of the same velvet sofa, stretching one long arm across the backrest, his phone in his other hand. He scrolled lazily, the glow lighting the sharp cut of his jaw.

Her heart thudded. Out of several places in the vast suite, the massive bed, the chairs and the dining area, he had chosen to sit on the sofa next to her. Although he was seated on the other side, he was enough that she could smell the fresh citrusy, sandalwood smell of his bodywash.

Sucking in a breath, she forced her gaze back to her file. But the words blurred. Her skin prickled with tension, every nerve aware of his nearness. She could feel his gaze, even when he didn’t look up from his phone.

Finally, she snapped her head toward him. “Stop disturbing me,” she said, sharper than intended.

Ram’s mouth curved faintly, though his eyes remained on the screen. “I’m not talking.”

Her breath hitched. “You don’t need to. Your presence next to me is enough to disturb me.”

This time he did look at her. Slowly. Deliberately. His gaze locked with hers, dark and unreadable, until her cheeks burned. Then, in one smooth movement, he got up.

But instead of leaving, he came closer and placed his hands on the sofa next to her, caging her. She gasped as his body loomed, blocking out everything else. His clean, citrusy sandalwood scent surrounded her, dizzying and hot.

Her breath came shallow, her pulse a drumbeat in her ears.

“You are my wife,” he said in a low, dark tone. “I’m not only going to look, I will touch you. However I want and wherever I want. With my hands and with my mouth. Everywhere. Until you are begging, gasping and screaming under me.”

Sanjana’s heart pounded so hard she was sure he could hear it. Her body burned and throbbed as she stared at his darkly handsome face. She felt his heat and his strength. A part of her desperately wanted to give in, to allow him to touch her and take her with passion and hunger.

But she controlled herself. She forced herself to remember why she hated him and wanted to be free of him.

“I will never beg,” she whispered, even as her body throbbed in desire.

He stared at her for a moment, and then there was a small, dark smile. “You already did. Before.”

Heat rushed to her face at his reminder. She recalled the times when she had begged him for a kiss. She had begged him to touch her and to give in to both their desires.

His answer had always been the same. His restraint had been infuriating. “Not until you are my queen. My wife. Only then.”

Her throat tightened with shame and anger. “That was years ago,” she said. “Things have changed.”

Ram’s gaze burned into hers. “Yes, I’m no longer the same,” he stated.

Her chest twisted violently. For a breathless moment, she thought he would take what he wanted without any restraint.

But then he pushed away from her, his body no longer caging hers. He straightened, every inch the cold, untouchable maharaja again, and walked away from her. He lay on the bed as though nothing had happened.

Sanjana sat frozen, her heart hammering inside. Her cheeks burned with shock, anger and the ache of an unwanted arousal.