Page 90 of Trapped By the Maharaja

A part of her knew she sounded like an anxious, nagging wife rather than a woman trapped in a contract marriage.

“I was with my brothers,” he said, stepping closer.

Her breath caught, and she took a step back. “D-doing what?”

His eyes flashed darkly. “Investigating.”

She didn’t have to ask what he and his brothers were investigating. She knew they were investigating the attacker.

Sucking in a deep breath, she spoke. “Who was he? Why did he attack you?”

Ram didn’t answer her question. Instead, he closed the distance between them in two long strides, his presence overwhelming.

“Who was he?” she asked again, her voice breathless while her heart thundered. “Tell me.”

His jaw tightened, his silence more telling than any reply. When she tried to step back, his hand shot out, curling around her wrist. The heat of his touch burned into her skin.

“The security team is investigating,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Her lips parted to ask what they found so far, but the words never came. Because in the next second, his mouth was on hers.

The kiss was fierce and claiming, silencing every question. Sanjana gasped against him, her fists pressing against the solidwall of his chest. But instead of pushing him away, her fingers once again curled into his sherwani. His fingers gripped her hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss. Her mind screamed that she should resist, demand answers, but her body betrayed her, heat surging with every brush of his lips.

Her hands slid over his shoulders, pulling him closer. But through the haze of passion, a small frown formed on her face when she felt something wet and sticky behind his back.

She tore her mouth from his. Her breathing was ragged when she looked at her hands covered in specs of blood.

She gasped. “Ram, you’re bleeding.”

He shrugged dismissively. “It’s just a scratch.”

“A scratch? You were attacked with a knife, and you fell from racing a bull! Did anyone check on you for injuries?”

He didn’t answer and looked at her as though they should continue kissing and do more.

Her cheeks burned because she wanted to do just that. Taking a deep breath, she stepped back. “Come to the bathroom. Now.”

His eyebrow lifted at her command. “I thought you would prefer the bed.”

Her face burned at his suggestive tone. Exhaling sharply, she glared at him. “Stop it.”

Before he could say anything, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him with her toward the bathroom.

She stopped inside near the large mirror. “Take off your clothes.”

The look on his face made her cheeks burn hotter. “I’m going to take a look at your injuries,” she snapped.

There was a flash of dark amusement in his eyes before he did as she instructed. He removed his sherwani.

She gasped when she saw his back covered in scratches. There was a path of dried blood on his back where he must have fallen on the ground. But there were other long, reddened scratchescovering his tanned back and dark bruises on his left shoulder from bite marks.

Her face burned knowing she was the one who had left those on him.

Hoping he didn’t notice or wouldn’t comment, she turned towards the shelf where she kept an emergency medical kit.

She took out the antiseptic bottle, cotton pads, and a roll of gauze from the kit and lined them up neatly on the counter like she was preparing for a patient.

But Ram Devara was not a patient.