She was beyond annoyed that he had ordered her to be on time for breakfast, as if she were his junior employee who habitually arrived late to morning meetings.
She pressed her palms against her flushed face.
Cold, arrogant, insufferable jerk!
She lay against the pillows, staring at the carved ceiling, furious at herself, furious at him, and furious at her own body for its complete and utter lack of control.
And the worst part was that Bharat Jogra knew exactly how to make her lose control while he remained unaffected.
CHAPTER 16
Yamini stepped into the dining room at 9:12.
Morning painted the snow-capped mountains in shades of rose and gold, but she wasn’t able to appreciate the beauty. She felt too agitated.
And the reason for her agitation was already seated at the long dining table. He was wearing a dark blue shirt, which made his golden tanned skin glow in the soft morning light. He looked like a cover model on a luxury magazine.
Yamini went closer and dragged the heavy dining chair back with deliberate force.
The sound scraped sharply against the polished stone floor, loud enough to echo through the large breakfast hall. It was childish. She knew it, but she didn’t care.
Bharat didn’t look up.
Yamini dropped into the chair opposite him and immediately grimaced because of the throbbing ache that persisted between her legs.
She clenched her teeth and forced herself to sit still, refusing to let him notice her discomfort.
Not that he would care.
His breakfast, arranged with near-military precision, consisted of steaming pink-hued tea, two thinly sliced pieces of bread, a thick slice of meat, a small bowl of curd, and almonds laid in a neat row.
He was cutting the meat into even bite-size pieces, his long fingers flexing around the knife handle.
Yamini's cheeks burned as she remembered those same fingers stroking under her kneecaps last night in gentle circular motions that contradicted the brutal snap of his hips.
The memory made her shift in her seat, the silk of her panties rasping against oversensitive skin where his stubbled jaw had scraped between her legs. She pressed her thighs together surreptitiously, the motion pulling at tender muscles.
Ugh. Stop thinking about last night!
She reached for her teacup, where the palace staff had just poured kahwa, an aromatic spiced green tea.
Taking a long sip, she allowed the warmth to settle in her fluttering stomach.
Although she wasn’t too hungry, she began eating just to keep her mind and hands occupied. She took a bite of the flaky paratha, then reached for the honey, drizzling more than needed.
“You’re not following protocol,” he said, without looking at her.
Yamini froze mid-bite.
“Excuse me?” she said, swallowing. She looked at her honey-smeared plate and then at his neatly arranged one.
For a moment, she thought he was controlling how she ate.
“The security detail has reported multiple deviations,” Bharat continued. “You’ve been walking through narrow lanes where vehicles can’t access. You’ve dismissed the primary escort.”
She frowned. “I haven’t dismissed anyone.”
“You’ve instructed them to stay back,” he corrected. “And then went on foot.”
