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“Daadi, how can you...?” Her voice trails off, face flushed with anger.
“Maahi, he knows the rules. Merely entering the temple isn't an issue. He won't touch anything here.” Daadi's response is gentle.
“Where's the prasad?” My eyes search for the prasad on the table before the deity.
“Here,” Daadi says, placing a ladoo in my mouth. The familiar taste floods my senses.
“It's delicious. Even better than I remember.”
Daadi's laughter fills the air. “That's because I didn't make them. Maahi did.”
I slow my chewing, savoring the ladoo while casting an appreciative glance at Maahi. But her disinterest in me is evident. She sets the smoke vessel aside, announcing, “I'll check if breakfast is ready,” before leaving the room.
“I'll take another,” I say, reaching for one more ladoo before exiting the temple, allowing Daadi to continue her reading. Knowing she'll need time to finish reading the holy book, I opt for coffee before showering. The kitchen bustles with activity as I arrive, Maahi instructing the staff.
“Yes, an American breakfast. Include pancakes, waffles, and omelets. He drinks only black coffee or green tea. And he's allergic to peanut butter.”
Impressed, I applaud, drawing her attention. “You remember a lot about me.”
Surprise flickers across her face at my presence. So, I tease her a bit more.
“I didn't realize you paid such close attention to me,” I add.
Maahi rolls her eyes and ignoring my teasing she heads for the door. I hate being ignored. My temper flares quickly. In a swift motion, I grab her arm and order the kitchen staff to leave us alone. Within seconds, they all bustle out.
“Never walk away while I'm talking to you,” I warn, once we are alone.
“Let go of my hand.”
Maahi remains unfazed, struggling against my grip until I release her. As she reaches for the door again, I push it close, pinning her against it. I've never acted this impulsively with a woman, but with Maahi, control eludes me. My arms bracket her, and I know she understands why. Our eyes lock, and I read her dislike for me—a result of my cold, ruthless behavior since childhood. We share a history of dark glances and nothing more. But this time Maahi doesn’t stay quiet unlike she did before.
“Two things,” she growls. “First, this isn't a hotel you can check into anytime. Second, I'm not your servant to obey your every command.”
Her defiance amuses me. Is this the same shy, timid girl who once avoided even looking at me?
“Definitely not,” I agree. “But when people mess with me, I mess with them. You know me that well, Cub.”
“Don't call me that.”
I see her fingers curl into fists, but I'm confident I can restrain her before she can strike.
“Cub suits you,” I smirk.
Her eyes flash with challenge. “Not as much as Prince Pompous suits you. And how dare you do that to me last night?”
I know exactly what she’s talking about – I’d kissed her neck.
“That?” I pretend to be oblivious to what she is trying to remind me.
The explanation is on her lips, but she reads my eyes and knows I’m feigning innocence.
“I could have told Daadi what you did. I'm only quiet to spare her feelings,” she adds.
“Daadi doesn’t have to know everything that happens between us,” I declare firmly.
Confusion clouds her features, but before she can argue, Daadi's voice echoes from the living room. Maahi seizes the chance to shove me hard.
“Consider this my first and last warning, Prince Pompous. We're in India, where traditions and boundaries are valued. Never try to cross them again, especially with me.”
