as he saw the press waiting for them below.
‘I suppose this was your idea. Run away in secret and then let the world know what you’ve done,’ he told her angrily.
‘No. It’s got nothing to do with me,’ Sophia defended herself, but she could see from the look Ash was giving her that he didn’t believe her.
There no escape for them, Ash recognised. To retreat back into the plane now would only increase the gathered press’s hunger for their photographs. They had no option other than to try to outface them.
‘Come on.’ He took a firm hold of her arm.
No matter how much she might long to persuade herself that Ash’s hold on her arm was protective it just wasn’t possible, Sophia acknowledged miserably. Not after she had seen the anger in his eyes.
As they neared the bottom of the steps the waiting reporters started firing a barrage of far-too-intimate questions at them, demanding, ‘Is it true that the two of you are an item and that you’ve left a fiancé behind on Santina?’
‘Have you any comment to make on the fact that you’ve spent the night together?’
‘Does King Eduardo know that the two of you are together?’
‘Are you together, or is the princess going to go back to her fiancé?’
‘Did you enjoy your in-flight entertainment, Your Highness?’
The last comment given with a knowing leer as a camera was lifted to catch her expression was too much for Sophia’s control. She turned towards Ash, instinctively seeking his protection as she clung to his arm and turned her face into his chest.
‘Thanks, darling,’ the photographer called out. ‘Great shot.’
‘So I was right. You did engineer this,’ Ash accused Sophia in a savage undertone. ‘Have you no sense of dignity or shame? What do you think it’s going to do to your own reputation, never mind your father’s and your fiancé’s, when this … this circus of predators splash their photographs all over the world? Or don’t you care?’
‘I didn’t do anything.’ Sophia tried to defend herself, her voice catching on a small hiccup of misery. She was trembling as much with the hurt of Ash not believing her as with the anxiety caused by the unexpected and unwanted presence of the press. She was, of course, used to being besieged by the press; she was even used to them asking her very intimate questions about her personal life and the men she dated, but then she had had the protection of knowing that no matter what they chose to believe and publish none of it was true. Now, though, things were different. Now she had been seen with Ash in a very intimate situation, indeed. ‘Why would I? I don’t want my father to know that I’m here. I don’t want him to know anything until I’m safely in London.’
‘Well, no one else could have organised it.’ Ash only began to frown as out of the corner of his eye he saw the steward sidling up to one of the reporters who handed him a fat envelope, whilst the steward glanced furtively over his shoulder.
It looked very much as though Sophia was telling the truth, Ash had to admit, but there was no time to question the steward now or, in fact, to do anything that would draw further press attention to them, he decided.
‘This way,’ he instructed Sophia, still holding her arm as he pushed his way through the crowd, almost dragging her with him as he headed for the waiting limousine.
‘What’s this for?’ Sophia demanded when she saw it. ‘I need to be in the airport sorting out my flight to London.’
‘And I need to be in my office for a very important meeting,’ Ash countered, ‘which is where we’re going right now, unless of course you want me to leave you to be eaten alive by the press. We can sort out your onward flight later.’
The thought of being abandoned by Ash to deal with the ever-hungry-for-gossip paparazzi had Sophia getting into the waiting limousine without another word of protest.
The car was soon speeding through the city streets. Sophia had never visited Mumbai or India before, although she’d always wanted to—and not just because the subcontinent was Ash’s home. She was genuinely interested in what she could see beyond the car windows and couldn’t help turning to Ash and murmuring, ‘Everything’s so colourful and vibrant. It makes everywhere else I’ve been seem pale and uninteresting.’
They’d come to a halt in the traffic and out of nowhere a boy appeared with a bucket of water and proceeded to clean the car’s front windows, despite the driver’s dismissive wave for him to stop.
A tender smile softened Sophia’s face. Thin and wiry, the boy gave her a wide smile, his brown eyes sparkling when he realised that Sophia was watching him, and quickly came round to her side of the car.
Watching her as she dug into her handbag, Ash felt something he didn’t want to acknowledge catching on his emotions.
Nasreen had thoroughly disliked the poor of India, and had made no attempt to conceal her contempt for them.
‘Here you are.’ He dug into his own pocket for some change, knowing that she would not have any Indian currency.
The car had started to move again.
‘Oh, make him stop, Ash, so that I can give the boy the money,’ Sophia begged, giving Ash a smile nearly as warm as the one she had given the boy when he did as she asked.
It would be unbelievably easy for a man to be seduced by the warmth of such a smile, Ash acknowledged. And by Sophia herself, as well? He shrugged as the question arose, knowing full well as he did so just how much his body was still aching from the denial he had imposed on it.
They were out of the centre of the city now and travelling on a road along a sea-facing promenade. On the other side of the road Sophia was surprised to see that the buildings had a distinctly art-deco flavour to them, but before she could ask Ash about this they were climbing along another road into what Sophia could see was a very exclusive-looking residential area filled with expensive modern apartment blocks.
Sophia wasn’t totally surprised when the limousine came to a halt outside one building that looked even more expensive than the rest.
‘My case,’ she reminded Ash, avoiding the hand he held out to her to help her from the car. She simply did not dare to touch him, not with every bit of her still aching with longing for him.
‘The driver will have it sent up to the apartment,’ Ash told her. He looked at his watch, mindful of his appointment. It shouldn’t take too long for him to organise a suitable flight to London for Sophia. He could, of course, have left her to fend for herself but that wasn’t Ash’s way. He had been brought up with a strong sense of responsibility towards his heritage and a duty to those who depended on him. That was part of the role into which he had been born as maharaja.
When he had children, a son, an heir—as he must—he would make sure that whilst that child understood the duties that went with the privilege and the wealth he would inherit, he would not be burdened by them. A child needed to be allowed to be a child. And between parent and child there needed to be love, as well as mutual respect. As an orphan he had missed out on that love, but even having parents did not guarantee it. Sophia was the proof of that.
Sophia. There he was allowing himself to feel sympathetic
