Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
DHEER
I wasn’t sure I’d heard correctly.
“Excuse me?”
“Would you like to come with me to Milan?” she asked again.
My arms tightened around her waist involuntarily and Diya yelped.
“I’m sorry,” I said, loosening my grip. “But yes, I’d like that. A lot.”
I knew I sounded like a Neanderthal learning to form words, but my throat had closed up with emotion. I knew what this meant, and that it was a huge deal. Diya had asked me to spend time with her. Which meant that she was willing to give us a chance. And I was determined not to blow it.
“Only if we take my private jet, though. I refuse to fly commercial,” I said firmly.
“Snob,” she teased.
“Not just a snob. I’m a royal snob, and don’t you forget it.”
I spurred Pasha into a gallop and we went flying over the dunes in the moonlight. Diya laughed loudly when Pasha jumped over a small dune that was in his way, and her laugh echoed through the silent desert. The warm sound wrapped itself around my heart and burrowed into my soul, filling it with joy and peace. I was out on the dunes in the moonlight with Diya in my arms. What more did I need in life?
We rode for more than an hour as I showed her the borders of our lands and the thriving orchards we had built in the desert over the years with the help of irrigation canals.
“What do you do, exactly?” she asked. “Like what’s your day job?
“I do what most royals from Rajasthan do. I run luxury hotels,” I replied with a laugh.
“Really?”
“Yes. After my father died, I took over the family estates and turned all the spare palaces into luxury hotels.”
“But what about politics? How come you didn’t take over your father’s seat in the assembly?”
I grimaced slightly.
“Can you see me as a politician?”
“I can see you as a diplomat. You were training to be one, right? Why did you give that up?”
“My family needed me here after Baba died, and it didn’t seem right to move to London for my foreign posting when Ma was on the brink of a breakdown.”
Diya stirred in the saddle and turned to look at me.
“Dheer… from what I’ve seen… the Goels seem almost afraid of you. Why is that? And why do you carry a rocket launcher in your car the way I carry a face mist?”
I tensed at her question and took my time answering because I was afraid of saying the wrong thing. I was worried I’d say something that would destroy the fragile truce that existed between us.
“These are lawless lands, Diya. You’ve seen that for yourself. I do whatever I need to do to protect my family. Does that bother you?”
“It doesn’t… as long as you’re not like Ayush Goel.”
I let out a bitter laugh.
“ No one can be like Ayush Goel, sweetie. He is a special case,” I said bleakly.
She didn’t notice that I had evaded her question and laughed like I wanted her to.
Pasha was sweating by the time we rode back to the stables and Diya helped me rub him down, and the spoiled bastard lapped up her attention like he was her lamb.
“I smell of horse,” she grumbled as we made our way to our room.
“It could be worse. You could smell of horse dung,” I pointed out.
“Hmph. It doesn’t change the fact that I have to take a shower when all I want to do is go to sleep.”
“Come on, sleeping beauty. If you promise to be nice to me afterwards, I’ll rinse you down like I did with Pasha.”
“Always the romantic,” she said, with a laugh.
I chased her into the bathroom and took my time stripping her riding clothes off before I carried her to the huge shower in the middle of the bathroom. She stared into my eyes as we stood under the rainforest shower, as if she was looking into my very soul.
“Kiss me, Dheer,” she begged, and I did.
I kissed her until we could barely stand. The water poured over our heads as I slammed her against the wall of the shower cubicle and kissed the living daylights out of her. My cock was hard enough to pound concrete but all I wanted to do in that moment was to just kiss the woman of my dreams. The woman I loved with all my heart. The woman who was finally mine.
After I soaped her thoroughly, I rinsed her off as promised and dried her as much as I could before I carried her to the bedroom. When I lay her on the bed, Diya pulled me down and rolled over until she was astride me.
“Condom?” she asked breathlessly.
I reached over and pulled one out from the bedside drawer. She rolled it on me expertly and impaled herself on my hardness in one smooth move. It was fast, wet, and wild. Diya leaned back and held onto my knees as she rode me hard. When her movements became rougher, I rolled her over on her back and slammed into her hard and fast until I felt the tremors of her orgasm wrack her body. Her inner muscles convulsed around me and she screamed my name.
I kissed her hard as I began to come, and she wound her hands around my neck as she held on to me tightly. I wanted to stay in her arms forever because no other place felt so much like home. I breathed heavily into the crook of her neck and waited for my heart to slow down.
When I began to pull away, Diya tightened her legs around my hips to hold me in.
“Not yet,” she whined. “Stay for a bit.”
“I’ll be back before you know it,” I whispered, dropping a quick kiss on her lips. But her lips called to me like a siren, so kissed her again. And again. I felt her smile against my lips.
“Go clean up,” she whispered. “I’ll be here, waiting.”
I scooped her into my arms when I returned from the bathroom, and spooned her under the covers.
“How does your hair always smell so good?” I grumbled.
“Rose and jasmine hair mist,” she replied sleepily.
“Witchcraft,” I teased, and she laughed huskily.
“We need to leave for Milan tomorrow morning,” I reminded her. “Is your visa up-to-date?”
She turned to me with a frown.
“Yes. But is yours?”
“Always,” I replied.
“And what about the family?”
“I’ll go speak to Ma now,” I replied, getting up reluctantly. “You get some sleep because we’ll have to leave early tomorrow morning.”
“Ugh! No! I have to speak to Caroline and then pack for the trip.”
“Don’t you keep a travel bag ready always?” I asked curiously.
“Umm, no. Because I’m not a psychopath!”
“Please! It’s just called being organised,” I scoffed.
Diya rolled her eyes at me theatrically and dragged herself out of bed to throw on some clothes.
“Haven’t you unpacked yet?” I asked, waving a hand towards her trunks that sat in a corner of the walk-in closet.
“Not yet,” she said with a yawn. “I need time to organise everything properly. I guess I’ll do it when we get back from Milan.”
I dropped a kiss on the top of her head and went off to speak to my mother. It wasn’t easy, but I convinced her to push the mooh-dikhai for next week.
“Are you sure Diya is happy here, beta?” she asked as I was leaving.
I tensed at the question and turned around slowly.
“I don’t know, Ma. I suppose she’s as happy as she can be, under the circumstances. It’s a huge relief that the Goels have backed away for now. She doesn’t have to worry about being attacked every time she steps out of the palace.”
“And what about you? Are you happy?”
I shrugged in reply. Just being with Diya was enough to make me happy. But I didn’t know how long this happiness would last.
The next morning, Diya climbed into my Gulfstream and looked around approvingly.
“I must say this is very nice for a fuel-guzzling behemoth,” she said, twirling around slowly before she accepted the glass of champagne offered by the cabin crew.
“You can redecorate it if you like. It’s all yours,” I replied, loving the excitement that she was trying to hide.
I showed her around the aircraft, and then we settled in our seats. It was a long flight but Diya and I discovered a mutual love of detective shows, and we binged on two seasons of The Mentalist until it was time to land.
Her booker, Caroline, met us at the airport and led us to the limo sent by Valentino. We were put up at the Four Seasons, and Diya hurried off to the spa for a long session to prep for her meeting. In the evening, we walked around the city hand-in-hand, until we found a small restaurant in the old town, Centro Storico, hidden in a street twenty minutes away from the Duomo.
We settled down at a table outside and watched the world go by as we shared a bottle of their house red, and waited for our pizza. I was worried Diya might just nibble at her food, but she attacked her pizza with gusto, and her eyes rolled back in her head as she moaned at the first bite.
“This is almost better than sex,” she said with her mouth full.
“It looks like I need to work harder,” I replied, with a laugh.
“You can try, sweetie, but this pizza might still kick your ass,” she replied, licking some sauce off her finger.
“What if I feed you pizza while I make love to you?” I murmured, and she raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“Mmm… very creative, Your Highness. I look forward to seeing your work,” she replied with a wink before she went back to her pizza.
Damn it! Was I jealous of a pizza now?
We ended the meal with a decadent tiramisu made by the nonna of the family that ran the restaurant, and even I had to admit that it was orgasmic. I totally wouldn’t blame Diya if she left me for the tiramisu.
We walked back to the hotel and I did everything I could to best that damn pizza. Three orgasms later, Diya curled into the crook of my arm and sighed happily.
“It was a good attempt, Dheer. But I’m afraid the pizza still has the edge over you,” she teased.
I groaned loudly.
“You just wait until I recover. I’ll make you eat your words,” I warned.
Diya kissed me softly in reply, turned around and promptly fell asleep. I held her for half the night, just revelling in the feel of her in my arms. Please, God, let this last, I prayed silently before I gave in to sleep.