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.
CHAPTER 19
The commercial studio smelled faintly of fresh paint and chai.
Yamini stood near the eastern windows. Below the building, the Dalview lake caught the winter sun and threw it back in fragments of silver and gold. The city spread out beyond it, unhurried at this hour, the kind of view that made her want to stop working and simply look.
Workers moved around carrying light fixtures and unpacking the new equipment.
“He let you keep the kitten,” Pooja announced from somewhere behind her, her voice carrying the particular tone of someone presenting evidence in a court case.
“He didn’t let me keep the kitten in my room,” Yamini corrected, turning to see Pooja’s shocked and excited face. “He sent the kitten downstairs to a designated space. Away from the main corridors.”
Yamini was still annoyed by the fact.
But Pooja didn’t seem to think sending the kitten away from her room was cruel.
“The Jogra maharaja allowed a stray kitten into his palace for you!”
Yamini’s heart skipped a beat when it was presented that way. But Yamini knew the truth.
“He’s probably scheming something,” she muttered.
Pooja stared. “What?”
“He probably allowed it because he’s planning something bigger. Like letting me bond with Sheru and then making it disappear suddenly.”
Pooja exhaled dramatically. “How can you not see it?”
“See what?”
“Your husband gives you the most premium studio space in the country. He offers unlimited access to his money. And he lets you keep a stray kitten in a palace! He is practically wooing you!”
Yamini shook her head. Bharat Jogra didn’t woo. He only issued commands.
“Ours is a contract marriage,” Yamini muttered. “He isn’t required to woo.”
Pooja didn’t look convinced. “Oh please. The Jogra maharaja is definitely wooing his wife.”
Yamini opened her mouth to retort, but her phone rang.
It was an unknown number. She answered it, wondering if it was someone from the PR company. She was waiting for instructions to begin working on the next Jogra steel plant.
“Hello?”
“Yamini.”
One word was all it took for her to recognize the voice and the authority it carried.
“Rani Ma,” Yamini said, automatically using the term of endearment she had used since her childhood.
Pooja’s eyes widened as she realized who was on the call.
“I am calling to speak with you about the formal announcement,” Rani Suchitra said. Her tone was even. Composed and regal. But it was different from how Yamini remembered it.
