She laughed. “Then I’m irrational too. I am fascinated with your golden-brown eyes and cheekbones too. I’m fascinated with all aspects of the Jogra maharaja.”
She leaned closer and brushed her lips lightly against his jaw.
He inhaled slowly.
She now knew that a single long breath meant he was trying to regain control.
But he didn’t regain it. She felt his hardness underneath her.
She smiled.
His hands slid up her back. “You are not supposed to sit on my lap in public spaces,” he murmured the reminder against her temple.
She remembered the command from the last time when she sat on his lap to provoke Tina Mehta.
“I’m claiming my husband,” she said.
That made him still.
Then something flickered in his eyes.
The last few weeks replayed in her mind.
He had told her things he had never told anyone outside his family. Stories of childhood. Of the whispers and labels.
He had spoken in that even tone of his, as if narrating someone else's life and expecting her to recoil.
Instead, she had fallen deeper.
It exasperated her that he had tried to terrify her with the truth of himself.
At night, he was passionate and held her close. But in the mornings, he still looked at her as if he expected her to leave.
It annoyed her. It also made her ache. Most of all, it made her determined.
One day, she would convince him of the one thing he still refused to believe—that she wasn't going anywhere.
“Kiss me,” she commanded softly.
He cupped her cheek.
For a moment, his gaze held hers, searching for something.
Then he bent his head and kissed her.
For now, that was enough.
CHAPTER 57
The next few days brought more media coverage and press releases.
Yamini accompanied Bharat to several events as both a member of the PR team and the Jogra maharani.
The conference hall at the Jogra city office was overflowing with journalists. Reporters stood along the back wall, and cameras filled the rear of the room. Banners with the Jogra Steel emblem stood beside the podium, along with the state government seal.
The chief minister's office had insisted on sharing the stage, eager to claim some credit now that the protests had ended.
Yamini stood near the side of the stage, close enough to be photographed beside Bharat but away from the podium itself. It was the final event of her PR project. Months of work had come down to one room filled with cameras and prepared speeches.
