11. OPERATION MAKE THE PRINCE REACT
DIYA
I am not awkward. Let me start with that.
I am not one of those women who spend hours overthinking a conversation. I don't replay moments in my head. I don't blush over stupid things. I don't stare at walls while wondering what someone meant when they said something.
I don't. Unfortunately, my brain appears to have decided otherwise.
Because ever since last night, it has become impossible to focus on anything for more than five minutes before a certain infuriating prince barges into my thoughts uninvited.
The worst part? The man is acting like absolutely nothing happened.
Nothing. As if he didn't pull me halfway across a driveway.
As if his face wasn't inches from mine. As if he didn't stand there looking annoyingly handsome in that white shirt while I forgot how to form coherent thoughts.
As if he didn't whisper directly into my personal space.
The audacity. The absolute audacity. I slam a cupboard shut harder than necessary. A few heads immediately pop into my office. "Didi?"
I plaster on a smile. "Everything is fine."
Nobody believes me. Including myself. The moment they're gone, I sink into my chair and groan dramatically. Because now my stupid brain decides to provide visual reminders.
White shirt. Motorcycle. Broad shoulders. Strong hands. Abs.
My face heats instantly.
No. No no no. We are not thinking about his abs. That wasn't even the important part of the evening. There were many things that happened.
Several things. Important things. Life-threatening things. Like him insulting my hair. Yet somehow my brain keeps returning to the fact that the man is unfairly attractive and surprisingly caring.
I hate it. A knock sounds against the door. Before I can recover, Lucky sticks his head inside.
The ten-year-old narrows his eyes suspiciously. "Didi."
I point a finger at him. "No."
He blinks. "I didn't even say anything."
"I know that look."
"What look?"
"The one where you're about to expose me."
Lucky studies me for another second. Then gasps dramatically. "Are you ill?"
I frown, "What?"
"Your face is red."
"It is not."
"It is."
"It's hot."
"We have three fans."
I narrow my eyes. Lucky narrows his right back.
Finally he shrugs. "Okay."
The smile on his face tells me he absolutely does not believe me. Wonderful. Even the children have started noticing.
This day keeps getting better. A little later, I find myself outside in the courtyard. The afternoon sun filters through the trees surrounding the NGO.
Children run around in every direction.
Few are playing cricket. Someone is arguing over crayons. Someone is dozing off when they should definitely be studying. Business as usual.
The sight immediately relaxes me. It always does. No matter what kind of day I'm having, these children somehow manage to make everything feel lighter.
I drop onto the grass beside a group of girls braiding friendship bracelets. Within seconds, three children climb into my lap and two more lean against my shoulders. Personal space doesn't exist here. I've accepted it.
A burst of laughter escapes me when Keshav trips over absolutely nothing and starts blaming the grass for it. The grass. Apparently it attacked him.
I am still laughing when I feel someone's gaze. I look up. And immediately find him. Of course.
Veeraj sits beneath a tree on the opposite side of the courtyard.
A file rests in his lap. His sleeves are rolled up.
His attention appears to be on the paperwork—’appears’ being the important word.
Because every few minutes his gaze lifts.
Toward the children. Toward the courtyard. Toward us. Then drops back down.
Like nobody will notice. I narrow my eyes. The man genuinely thinks he's subtle. Which is adorable. And by adorable I mean mildly insulting. Because I absolutely notice. The children notice too.
Laila follows my gaze and grins. "Prince uncle."
I immediately look away. Far too quickly.
I glance back toward Veeraj.
He's listening to Jay explain something passionately so patiently, as if Jay's the most interesting guy on the planet, which he might be, but the expression on Veeraj's face does something weird in my chest.
I ignore it.
The man confuses me. That's the problem.
He's awkward around children. Yet they adore him.
He rarely talks. Yet they constantly seek him out.
He acts like he doesn't care, like coming here is a task.
Yet somehow he remembers everyone's names.
Everyone's favorite stories. Everyone's struggles. It's contradictory and so annoying.
Because nobody can be that emotionally constipated and still care that much. It's mathematically impossible.
My gaze lingers on him. He says something to Jay who immediately rolls his eyes. The prince actually gets eye-rolls from children now.
Progress.
I watch him for another minute, and suddenly a thought occurs to me. A dangerous thought. My lips slowly curve upward. I may look remotely evil. Because there's absolutely no way this man is as unaffected as he pretends to be.
No way.
Human beings don't work like that. You cannot spend your entire existence looking mildly disappointed by everything. At some point something has to break through. I just need to figure out what.
The moment the idea forms, excitement sparks through me.
A challenge. This is a challenge. And I love challenges.
Across the courtyard, Veeraj looks up.
Our eyes meet. Immediately his expression changes. Not much. Just enough. His brows pull together slightly. Suspicious of me. I haven't even done anything yet and somehow he already looks concerned.
I smile sweetly. Very sweetly. The kind of smile that has gotten me banned from multiple school meetings.
His eyes narrow. I almost laugh. Even from this distance I can practically hear his thoughts.
Absolutely not. Whatever she's planning. No.
I wave at him cheerfully. His expression becomes even more wary. Which only makes this better.
Rani notices immediately. "Didi?"
I lean closer. "Yes?"
She follows my gaze. "Are you planning something?"
I place a hand over my heart. "Rani."
"Yes?"
"Do I look like someone who causes trouble?"
The child doesn't even hesitate. "Yes."
The betrayal.
The disrespect.
The accuracy.
Around us, several children begin nodding enthusiastically. Wonderful. I have created tiny monsters. I blame myself. A laugh escapes me despite my best efforts.
Across the courtyard, Veeraj is still watching. Still suspicious. Still trying to figure out what's happening.
Good. Let him worry. Because I've finally reached a conclusion.
Veeraj Singh Shekhawat may be impossible. He may be stubborn. He may be annoyingly handsome. He may also be the most emotionally repressed man I've ever met. But nobody gets to be that calm forever.
Nobody.
And if it becomes the last thing I do, I am going to make him react. I don't know how yet. I don't have a plan. I barely have an idea. But I do have determination. And a group of children who enjoy chaos almost as much as I do. Which honestly feels like enough.
Across the courtyard, Veeraj sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Like he already knows his peaceful existence is about to end.
For the first time all day, I grin. A real grin. Because for the first time since meeting him, I finally have a goal.
Operation Make The Prince React has officially begun.
And something tells me it's going to be very, very fun.