The Maharajah's Billionaire Heir Read online

  Having Eliza brought to his attention by his grandfather and her own plans did not change the fact that he was very attracted to her. And the more time he spent in her company, the more Vin realized he liked the curious, but somewhat introverted young woman.

  Eliza looked up from the glittery sphere in her hand, no embarrassment from his mother's words that Vin could see. "It's been a very long time. The Singhs don't do a tree."

  "They wouldn't, would they?" his mother dismissed with a sniff. "Too hidebound."

  Vin was shocked at this, the first criticism he had ever heard from his mother toward the Singh family.

  Eliza frowned. "I'm not sure hidebound is the word I would use." She was sticking up for her family, but her tone wasn't so certain.

  Vin got the distinct impression that Eliza had actually used that very term herself before.

  "Really? And what word would you use? You, who are the child, Adhip raised with his wife in the palace, rather than his own son. A Fhirangi." His mother made the word for foreigner sound like an insult.

  Utterly shocked at his mother's combative attitude, but even more so at her airing their family's past in such a public setting, he put his hand on her arm. "Maan, that is enough. Eliza is not your enemy."

  "I'm sure in the beginning, you would have preferred Rajvinder had been given his rightful place from the beginning. But then you found love. Would you give that up so your son could have been raised a prince?" Eliza asked, her tone not at all combative, but genuinely curious.

  So like her and Vin almost smiled.

  But his mother wasn't smiling, so he held his in check. "No, I would not." Maan frowned at Eliza, sniffed and managed to look down her nose at the other woman, though at five-foot-three, she was about an inch shorter. "His father offered to make Rajvinder his official heir once and raise him in the palace, but naturally, it would have had to be without me."

  Considering how Adhip had reacted to Vin's visit when he was eighteen, that surprised Vin very much and he said so.

  "It was when you were a small boy. Adhip and Tabish had been told they would not be able to have children of their own."

  "You never told me that. So, he asked you to give me up?" Vin asked with disgust, uncaring himself now about the people around them.

  Though the kiosk was actually not busy and they were the only patrons.

  "He did." His mother nodded, too complacent for the conversation as she handed a selection of ornaments to the kiosk clerk to ring up. "I said no, of course. But I have always felt guilty for doing so."

  And suddenly he knew all this false complacency, the snippiness, it was because of that. Because of some unwarranted sense of guilt, his mother was the last person who should be feeling.

  "I don't understand." Eliza put the bauble in her hand down with a look of longing before turning to face his mother. "If Rajvinder had been recognized then as the heir, your reputation would have been restored. Right?"

  "Some things are more important than reputations. That was something my own family struggled to understand. I was never willing to give my son up."

  No, she hadn't been. No matter the cost to his mother, she'd insisted on raising him herself. And now he knew it wasn't just her own family who had pressured her to give Vin up, he respected her even more.

  The look Eliza gave his mother was pure respect and approval. She thought the older woman was the boss for making the choices she had.

  Vin had to agree.

  "They wanted to adopt me, didn't they? Pretend I was the orphaned child of some far-off member of the family."

  His mother took her bag from the salesclerk and nodded. "Yes, exactly. I would never have seen you again. I could not live with that, but still—"

  Vin would not let her voice a regret for doing the right thing. "You made the right choice, the best choice for me," he assured her.

  She reached up and patted his cheek, like she used to do when he was young. "My parents were furious I refused, but I loved you, my son. I wasn't giving you into the keeping of a father you'd never known, a man who only wanted you, the best son anyone could ever have, because he could not have children with his wife."

  "You were angry at my father for abandoning you," Vin said with as much wonder as Eliza showed for the Christmas décor.

  His mother had finally admitted to feeling something she'd always denied. Vehemently.

  Maan started walking. "Come, we must hurry, or we will miss Seymore's Christmas show."

  "Who is Seymour?" Eliza asked.

  "A sea lion."

  "Oh."

  "It's amusing and we watch it every year," his mother emphasized. Like she wanted Eliza to know that they had traditions.

  Like just because she'd had to leave her home country and all those traditional moments with family behind, didn't mean maan had ever let him do without.

  Clarity blast through Vin's facile brain and a great deal of his childhood made more sense to him now. Why Christmas, which had nothing to do with his mother's Hindu religion, was such a big holiday for them, why they celebrated so many of the American holidays that he always thought were odd for his mother to make a big deal over.

  She'd had to give her own celebrations up in the early years, because until she married his stepfather, she wasn't comfortable joining the local Indian-American culture. She hadn't had a place a she felt she fit, so she'd made one. For herself and for him.

  "You're a strong woman, Maan."

  "I know that, son."

  He smiled. "I just thought I should tell you that I know it too."

  "Of course you do. You are my son."

  He was and he would do anything he could to make her happy. Including entering an arranged marriage and taking over the role of heir to a family he despised.

  If he got some of his own back on that family in the process? That would be okay too.

  ***

  Once again, Eliza found herself ensconced beside Rajvinder in his car, the driver up front. "I'm sorry your mother did not want to join us for dinner."

  "She and my stepfather had plans."

  "Oh, I thought it might be because of me." Though the woman had insisted Eliza use her American nickname, Barbie, she had made it clear she wasn't happy to have the younger woman butting in on her Christmas tradition with her son.

  "She wants me recognized as heir to the Mahapatras Maharajah."

  "But maybe she doesn't want you to marry me." Eliza didn't really understand the way Barbie acted toward her.

  Resistance to the idea of an arranged marriage from Rajvinder was more understandable, considering he'd been raised with a strongly American viewpoint, but Barbie would have had her own arranged marriage had she not gotten pregnant.

  And there might be Eliza's answer. The woman who gave every evidence of having traditional Indian values, had in fact been a rebel in her life's choices.

  Still, Eliza probed further. "She's married to an American, isn't she?"

  "Yes. She's not prejudiced." He said it like the idea was laughable.

  Eliza wasn't so sure. "But the way she called me foreigner in Hindi." It hadn't been very nice.

  "I believe she's more bothered by the fact that you, as a foreigner, are considered more worthy to be princess by the family than she was." The tense set of Rajvinder's jaw as he spoke said he wasn't too thrilled by that dichotomy either.

  "Oh. I…" Eliza should have thought of that. It made so much sense. Thinking of it now, pierced right through the armor around her heart. She liked Barbie. "Their rejection must have hurt her a great deal."

  "Until tonight, she never allowed me to see it."

  "I'm sorry." Both that his mother had been so hurt by the family that had been so kind to Eliza, but also that she'd withheld those feelings from her son.

  He shrugged, his gorgeous features dismissive, his focus on something out the window. "You weren't even born when they rejected her."

  She craved those eyes on her, but that was silly wasn't it? "It wasn't
her though, was it? Grandfather, even Tabish auntie, they only have good things to say about your mother and her family." When he didn't respond in any way, Eliza went on, "The real problem was that Barbie wasn't a princess. Thirty-five years ago, that was even more important than it is now."

  And Adhip uncle had already been promised to Tabish auntie. Betrothal contracts were binding.

  He looked at Eliza then. He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. His expression called out the hypocrisy. Eliza might have been raised to the role, but technically? She wasn't a princess either.

  Only it had always been her adopted family's intention she would be one day.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  "How do you get away with going about the city without bodyguards?" Eliza asked, because all the other questions swirling in her head were too personal.

  And really? She had no answer for why she had been chosen by the family to be their princess and his mother had not been considered for the role, even though she'd carried Adhip uncle's child. Only thirty-five years ago? That would have been a black mark against her too.

  Unfair? Yes. But also true.

  "Who said we didn't have security?" he asked, sounding amused.

  "But, we didn't. Did we?"

  "I always have security, as does Maan."'

  Eliza's brows furrowed, filtering her memories of the day through her brain and trying to picture security personnel around them. "Where were they?"

  "Nearby. My security detail travels in a car behind us at all times."

  She turned around and sure enough an Escalade followed them, the driver and passenger dressed as tourists, vaguely familiar. "They blend," she observed.

  "The most effective security do."

  Was that true? She'd never thought about it. The palace's security detail wore uniforms and were always very visible. "The other night at the mall?"

  "One waited out by my car while we dined, two were at a table kitty corner to ours."

  "You never said." He'd let her think he was completely sanguine about leaving his limited-edition car in the unsecured lot. "You like to push buttons, don't you? I'll have to remember that about you."

  "And you like to make assumptions."

  "I don't." She was a scientist after all. She looked at evidence and drew conclusions. That was not the same thing at all.

  "Don't you?"

  "No. I just…it's only natural if I don't see security to believe they're not there."

  "My driver is former special forces, as are most of the men and women on my detail."

  "Women?"

  His dark brow raised. "You would have me be sexist and only hire men?"

  "No, of course not. I've spent years with my head buried in the lab, or my books. I knew I had security only because I was told I did. I rarely noticed them." But she'd been able to pick out who they were when she looked. Not only did they always wear their uniforms, but they'd stayed a lot closer than the people who had been watching over them today.

  She hadn't noticed a single one.

  Which didn't say much for her powers of observation.

  "Why are you frowning?" he asked with a smile. Like he already knew the answer.

  "I should have noticed them."

  "They are paid to blend."

  "But still, they were with us the whole time, weren't they?"

  "Yes."

  "And I never noticed any particular person that always seemed to be around, much less a team of them."

  "That is not your job."

  She refrained from rolling her eyes. Barely. "You knew they were there."

  "I pay them to be."

  "I mean, you knew where each one was at all times. I just know you did."

  "So?"

  "So, I need to be more observant." Security was there for a reason. And if she didn't notice them, it followed she'd been oblivious to any potential threat as well.

  "Or you need looking after."

  "I'm an adult," she said with more dignity than she was feeling. "I can look after myself."

  His expression said he didn't believe here. "I think I'm learning that as beautiful as you are, at heart, you are an absent-minded academic."

  "You think I’m beautiful?" He couldn't. She was average. Nothing like the women he could marry from India. Women with lovely golden skin, petite features and enticing curves. "I'd prefer you didn't resort to false flattery."

  Beauty had never been a big thing to her, honesty was.

  She'd been more interested in being recognized for the facility of her brain, but she was perfectly aware of how average her looks were.

  One strong, masculine hand landed softly against her cheek, his dark gaze so serious she could not look away. "I do not know what you have been told, but Eliza, you are beautiful, and sexy, and I want you."

  "You do?" she asked, suddenly breathless.

  "Badly."

  "I want you too," she said before she could think better of that level of honesty. "I…I can't…"

  "What can't you do?" he asked, his thumb brushing along her cheek.

  She gasped, her body's reaction to that small caress all out of proportion. She couldn't breathe…her heart was beating a crazy rhythm she could feel.

  "You're touching me."

  He gave a dark, sensual chuckle. "If we marry, I will be touching you, a lot."

  "That's…I didn't expect…"

  "To be touched?" he teased, his thumb brushing over her lips and sending her body messages she was not used to. At all. "To want me?" he added, somehow closer than he'd been only a second ago.

  She shook her head. No, she hadn't expected to want him. She'd thought marriage to him would be even less a danger to her equilibrium than marriage to Dev would have been.

  He leaned forward so their lips were mere inches apart, his gaze holding hers so she could not look away. "I'll tell you a little secret."

  "Yes?" she asked on a barely-there huff of air.

  "I wouldn't even consider this arranged marriage thing if I didn't want to possess your body so badly."

  She should be concentrating on the first part of his comment because that was what mattered, but everything inside Eliza jolted at his admission of how much he wanted her.

  Then his mouth came down on hers and Eliza wasn't thinking at all.

  His mouth moved against hers with confidence and no hesitation as he coaxed her lips into a response she'd never given before. She grabbed his shoulders, the bunched muscles there testament to the fact this man did not spend all his days sitting behind a desk.

  She kissed back, instinctively moving her lips against his. And that was just so incredibly amazing. She needed the feel of his lips more than she needed air. All thoughts of putting forth the Singh family's interest flew from her head.

  Her only focus was on getting more of the amazing sensation of this incredible kiss. Her hands curled into fists against shoulders, her body thrumming with excitement, her lungs tight with the need for air.

  He pulled away and she heard a whimper, realizing the desperate sound was coming from her and not caring, even as she sucked in much needed oxygen.

  "Open your mouth," he instructed.

  She nodded.

  Amusement flashed in his dark eyes. Then his thumb pressed on her lower lip and she found herself doing as he instructed.

  This time when his mouth covered hers, she could taste him in a different way and then his tongue flicked inside her mouth, shocking and exciting her at once.

  It was only natural to slide her own tongue along his and she liked the way that felt. A lot. She moaned and did it again.

  His hands skimmed along her shoulders, down her sides and everywhere he touched sparked with a completely alien, but magnificent sensual pleasure.

  She remembered to breathe through her nose when she grew too lightheaded, and the kiss continued, her body straining against the seatbelt to get closer to him.

  He pulled his lips away again, this time with a groan and a shake of his head. "Yo
u are dangerous."

  She didn't know what he meant. She didn't care. She just wanted to kiss some more, leaning forward, trying to get his lips back.

  He made a strange sound and kissed her again before pulling back and holding her away with his hands around her upper arms. "We're here."

  "Here?" she asked, not knowing what he meant. She stared up at him, straining against his hold, her lips parted, wanting more of that delicious sensation.

  "Stop, sonii. The driver is going to open the door any second."

  The Hindi endearment was almost as good as his kisses. It took a second for his other words to penetrate her pleasure-addled brain. "We're stopped," she said, her brain sluggishly catching up with her surroundings.

  "Yes."

  She took a deep breath, forcing herself to lean back against the seat, away from him. "If kissing is that consuming, I'm not sure I ever want to try sex," she admitted with a candor that shocked even her.

  But right now? All her filters were offline.

  "You've never enjoyed kissing this much?" he asked, with what was unquestionably deserved smugness.

  "I've never kissed." She wasn't sure it would have made any difference.

  This man had female kryptonite in his touch…heck, he made her knees weak just looking at her.

  The door opened, but Rajvinder flicked his hand toward the driver, his other one settled on her thigh, stopping her movement. "But you were engaged to Dev."

  "Since we were children. Yes."

  "That's medieval."

  "Can we not?" The last thing she wanted right now, while her body was in a turmoil she'd never known, was to discuss the whole cultural norm thing again.

  "He never kissed you?"

  "I never kissed him either," she pointed out with some aspiration.

  "So, if you've never kissed…"

  The driver cleared his throat. Rajvinder glared past her, but when Eliza turned in embarrassed concern at what the other man had overheard, the driver stood a respectable distance away, looking amused.

  Eliza frowned at the man she knew also acted as part of the security team for Rajvinder. He was not supposed to notice what happened in the car, much less draw attention to it. Didn't he realize that?

  Apparently not. The man gave Rajvinder a mocking glance. "You've got reservations, Vin. Did you want a few more minutes?"