His Runaway Royal Bride. Tanu Jain

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СКАЧАТЬ want to leave her father alone. So she had refused, even though her father was being stubborn and adamant that she agree to Veer’s proposal.

      Then Veer had stepped in.

      With her father’s permission, he had taken her out for a drive and stopped the car in a quiet copse across the main road. He’d opened her door and held out his hand to help her step out.

      Meethi had looked at him with beating heart and stepped out.

      ‘Why don’t you want to marry me?’ he asked her gently.

      ‘Why do you want to marry me?’ she asked through thundering beats of her heart.

      His eyes crinkling at the corners, Veer smiled in amusement. ‘Life with you will never be dull, I guarantee! Well, I want to marry you because I think you’re extremely suitable for me,’ he said with gentle mockery.

      Meethi saw red. ‘Don’t be patronising! Aren’t there any other suitable girls? Surely parents must be queuing up at your door in hordes!’ she hissed angrily.

      Veer couldn’t contain his amusement and burst out laughing. ‘My dear girl, much as I hate to disappoint you, there is no horde or even a queue at my door. You are the girl I want to marry, and I think we’ll be very happy together,’ he added softly.

      ‘What about what I want? I don’t want to get married!’ she snapped, angry at his domineering attitude.

      ‘You don’t want to get married at all or you don’t want to marry me?’ he asked, suddenly serious.

      ‘I don’t want to get married right now,’ Meethi said truculently.

      ‘Why?’ Veer asked tautly.

      Meethi remained silent.

      ‘Is there someone else?’ he asked with a strange expression on his face. ‘A boy you study with, perhaps? Does your father know?’ he asked with cold suspicion.

      ‘Of course not! What do you think I am? I wouldn’t go behind Baba’s back and do something underhand!’ Meethi was aghast at his fertile imagination.

      Veer prodded her. ‘At least let me know the reason for your refusal.’

      ‘Well, sorry to let down your wild imaginings, but I don’t want to get married because, firstly, I want to go to art college and, secondly, I don’t want to leave my father alone,’ Meethi said stiffly, the words forced out of her.

      ‘Well, you can go to college even after marriage. No one will stop you. These are not the Dark Ages, you know! And, as for leaving your father, one day, sooner or later, you will have to get married. Do you think your father would be happy if you never married or if you stayed with him for ever? It is every father’s dream to see his daughter well settled. And your father is so happy with the idea of our marriage!’ Veer was all persuasion.

      ‘But he will be all alone!’ Meethi said through the lump in her throat.

      ‘I will ask him if he would like to come and live with us. And if he doesn’t I will take you to meet him as often as you want!’ Veer said easily.

      Meethi looked at him in surprise. He was making short work of all her objections. Why was he so keen to marry her? He could have his pick of any girl. So why her?

      ‘But why me…?’ she began, but the words died in her throat at the look in his dark eyes. She felt feverish and chilled at the same time and couldn’t tear her gaze from him.

      She stared at him, mesmerised, as he tugged at a lock of her hair, pulling her towards him, and lowered his head, capturing her mouth gently.

      Meethi closed her eyes in shock and felt his lips move over hers tenderly, softening them, caressing them and coaxing them open.

      Despite her sheltered and protected upbringing, Meethi had a fair idea of the physical intimacy between men and women, thanks to the knowledge passed on amidst giggles by her married friends. But the actual reality of being kissed blew her mind.

      His lips slid over hers, nipping her lower lip gently, pushing and prodding seductively and then deepened as he kissed her possessively. One hand moved to clasp her head closer while his other hand slid over her waist, cupping her bottom and pulling her into a snug fit.

      Meethi went up in flames. All thought was erased from her mind, her body became a mass of dizzying sensations and she began trembling and shaking in his arms.

      Feeling her tremble, Veer broke off the burning kiss and, placing a tender kiss on her forehead, said, ‘Now you know how suitable we are for each other.’

      Meethi was red with embarrassment and couldn’t meet his eyes.

      But her heart did a strange flip-flop when he pulled her close in a tight embrace and said softly, ‘Don’t worry! I will always ensure your and your father’s happiness. You will never regret marrying me.’

      Meethi stilled in his embrace, held in the thrall of inexplicable, mysterious emotions. She felt as if she were walking on air.

      They returned to her home, and her father’s ecstatic expression was Meethi’s undoing. She stifled her fears and accepted his proposal.

      But her fears had eventually come to roost, and Veer had come to resent their hasty marriage.

      She had thought that by running away she would set them both free.

      She slid into an uneasy slumber but woke all of a sudden, catapulted up, perspiring heavily, her breath coming in gasps.

      Her eyes alighted on unfamiliar surroundings and then it all came back. Veer had found her and brought her back to Samogpur.

      A sudden movement beside her, she saw the maid, a young girl, hovering solicitously, bowing down low in greeting. ‘Namaskar, Maharani Saheba!’

      Her breath sticking in her throat, Meethi asked her, ‘Maharaj Saheb?’

      ‘He has gone riding, Maharani Saheba,’ she replied deferentially.

      Some things never change, Meethi thought, feeling old wounds buried deep down begin to tauten. He had always preferred the company of his beloved horses to her. She recalled numerous occasions when, after a disagreement, he would simply storm off to the stables and go for a long wild ride.

      ‘And Maaji Saheb! Where is she?’ Meethi asked haltingly, dreading the answer.

      ‘Maaji Saheb is at the haveli in Haridwar. She has been living there for the past two years,’ the girl said confidingly.

      Meethi looked at her incredulously. Maaji Saheb was no longer at the Mahal! How was this possible?

      Seeing Meethi’s confusion, she said in a low voice, ‘Maharaj Saheb had a huge row with her and he ordered her to go to Haridwar!’

      Meethi felt a slight easing of the clenched-up feeling inside. She wouldn’t have to face Maaji Saheb. Though one part of her mind clamoured to know the details, a nameless dread, familiar and omnipresent, kept her silent.

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