Chapter 32
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Yamini bit her lip hard, stifling a moan, and trying hard to control her body from responding.
Bharat Jogra’s handsome face dripped with sweat while he gripped her thighs apart and his hips snapped towards her in a punishing rhythm.
His golden-brown eyes bore down into hers.
“Again,” he commanded.
The command made her lose all control. Instead of shoving him away with anger, her fingers gripped his shoulders hard while her body shuddered under him in pleasure.
She didn’t know how long she saw stars behind her eyes as she climaxed.
But much later, she lay against the sheets breathing hard while he moved away from her with a composed efficiency that should not be fluttering her stomach after what had just happened.
He had withdrawn before finishing inside her.
“You are supposed to spill inside me, not on me,” she said, panting while still trying to catch her breath. “Do I need to teach you how babies are made, maharaja?”
He didn’t react to her sarcasm.
She watched with annoyance through heavy-lidded eyes as he reached for the bedside tissues, plucking them one by one methodically. The paper rasped against her oversensitive skin as he swiped downward, his touch clinical and thorough, erasing all evidence of their intimacy from her abdomen.
Throwing the tissues into the trash can, he moved away and put his black robe on.
She looked at him as he tied his robe.
Not a single sign of disarray remained on him except for the damp strands of dark hair falling slightly over his forehead.
Meanwhile, she could barely feel her legs.
He walked toward the connecting door. “Breakfast at nine,” he commanded.
She ignored his command, deciding to be late as always.
She glared at his broad back, watching him go. He was about to open the connecting door when he paused. She expected him to issue another command, but he didn’t.
She frowned in confusion, wondering why he had stopped. Then she heard it too.
A sound.
A small, high-pitched, unmistakable sound—a mew.
Her heart jumped into her throat.
She pushed herself upright just as the cardboard basket near the far wall shifted. A tiny grey-and-white head peeked out, followed by a wobbling body. The kitten toddled forward with clumsy determination, sniffing the air.
Another tiny sound escaped it. Then a sneeze.
Bharat Jogra went still in a way that was sudden and absolute.
Yamini watched him turn slowly.
The kitten reached his feet and sniffed his bare ankle, tail flicking uncertainly.
For one suspended second, nothing happened.
Then he took a sharp step back.
His jaw tightened as his gaze fixed on the kitten.
“What is that animal doing here?” he asked.
Yamini slid off the bed, her heart pounding. “It’s a kitten.”
“I can see that,” he said, his voice calm but in a scary way. “Why is it here?”
She moved quickly, scooping the kitten into her arms before it could wander closer to him. “I found it outside this afternoon. It was freezing.”
His eyes flicked to the cardboard basket, then back to her. “Hasn’t the staff informed you of the palace rules?”
“They did,” she replied. “I told them it was okay.”
His expression didn’t change. But something strange settled into his gaze.
“Animals are not allowed inside the Jogra Palace,” he said.
She frowned. “Are you allergic to cats?” she asked.
“That is irrelevant.”
“That means you aren’t allergic to pets,” she said.
He didn’t deny it. “The staff will take care of it in the morning.”
She stared at him. “Take care of it, how?”
“That is not your concern.”
Her chest tightened. “You plan to have it thrown back into the freezing cold.”
There was silence.
The kitten squirmed against her chest, letting out another small mewl.
Something inside her snapped.
“You’re unbelievable,” she said, anger rushing up fast and hot. “Cold. Absolutely cold and cruel.”
His eyes remained calm. “Animals are not allowed into the palace.”
“Oh please,” she shot back. “It’s a helpless kitten, not a threat to your existence.”
“This palace functions on rules,” he said, voice low.
Yamini scoffed rudely. “Yes, I know about your precious rules, Maharaja Bharat Singh Jogra.”
He didn’t respond.
She stepped closer, cradling the kitten protectively. “The Jogra Palace is my home too. At least for the duration of our contract marriage. And I want an exception made to the pet’s rule.”
He looked at her, his golden-brown eyes darker in the shadows.
The air between them felt charged, taut with something unspoken.
The kitten sneezed again.
Bharat Jogra’s entire body flinched.
It was subtle, but Yamini saw it.
Her anger faltered, confusion cutting through it. Why did he behave as though she was holding a poisonous snake instead of a helpless kitten?
He exhaled slowly. “Animals disrupt routine,” he said, voice low and measured. “They require schedules. Feeding intervals. Unpredictable variables.”
“So do babies,” she countered. “And we are planning to have two children someday,” she reminded.
There was a stillness as his gaze fell to her abdomen, as though he was imagining her carrying his baby. Then his eyes met hers again. His golden-brown eyes had darkened.
She raised her chin higher, refusing to back away.
Silence stretched between them.
She felt the moment his composure cracked, not in his expression, which was still carved from marble, but in the slow release of his breath.
“Fine,” he said.
Her breath remained caught.
“The animal will remain,” he continued curtly. “But not in this room.”
Relief rushed through her so fast she almost sagged.
“It will be kept downstairs,” he added. “In a separate space. Away from the main corridors.”
She nodded quickly. “That’s fine. I promise it’ll stay away.”
He didn’t acknowledge her promise. “You will not name it,” he commanded.
Oops. Too late for that.
“He is Sheru,” she said, biting her lip.
She had named the kitten Sher Bahadur that afternoon. She had chosen the name because the kitten had bravely survived the freezing cold.
Bharat Jogra’s nostrils flared for a moment. But then his gaze snapped to her mouth as though mesmerized by the way her teeth bit into her lip.
She released her bottom lip, but his eyes remained on her mouth.
The kitten mewled again, but Bharat Jogra didn’t blink, his stare locked onto her lips.
She held her breath, her heart racing in anticipation.
She waited, but he didn’t move, and neither did his head lower towards her.
Several charged moments passed, and then his chest rose in a slow, measured inhale before his eyes left her mouth, and he turned back toward the connecting door.
“Go to sleep,” he commanded softly. “I’ll see you at sharp 9.”
She watched his back as he left, the door closing softly behind him.
Only then did she release the breath she’d been holding.
The cold maharaja had bent just a little.
Or maybe she was imagining things. Just like she imagined that he wanted to kiss her, but stopped himself.