Incense and Sensibility (The Rajes #3) - Sonali Dev Page 0,138

they had to spend the nights he was in town apart. To no one’s surprise Yash was not good at taking things slow. He was also dismally inept at holding back. Being with him was being with all of him, every bit of who he was, fully exposed, given over. His need for her, his hunger for her pleasure, it was so determined that she had not one defense against it. He unraveled her, dismantled every piece of hubris she’d ever had about knowing her body and all it was capable of feeling. Being with Yash as he discovered his desires was becoming one with her own.

As Yash had promised, he asked India if she was comfortable going public as his girlfriend. She’d said yes. All that meant was that she had to make one press conference appearance and give a couple of interviews. There were some salacious pieces about the affair that Yash and she were apparently sweeping under the carpet. Rico had assured India that most Americans didn’t know the name of their governor’s significant other, let alone those of their gubernatorial candidates, except in the presence of a scandal. Since the scandal had no basis in truth, their interest would pass soon enough.

On election day India spent the afternoon knocking on doors with China, who couldn’t stop talking about Brandy as they urged people to get out and vote. As the polls closed, India met Yash in his office. His sleeves were rolled up, his topmost button was unbuttoned, in his eyes was the focus of an athlete in the last seconds of the closest game of his life. She’d brought in a giant bowl of mango chia overnight oats for the staff whom she’d met soon after Yash’s press conference. Every one of them wore the same focus as Yash on their exhausted faces as they tracked results in what was turning out to be a nail-biter.

The entire family was there too, including Vansh, who was the exact opposite of his brother in every way, except that both brothers were utterly calm in the storm. Something they had obviously inherited from their father. Shree Raje had completely surprised India by texting her daily updates on Yash’s numbers for the past three weeks and acting like she’d been part of all this forever. As soon as India walked into the office, Shree gave her a hug and filled her in on where the returns stood, making Yash roll his eyes even as he couldn’t stop smiling.

For most of the evening India sat tucked in to Yash’s side and tried not to chew her nails, while he tried to put everyone at ease by teaching them how to dunk donuts into overnight oats.

At 11:00 P.M., Nisha screamed when NPR projected the winner. Yash had won with fifty-two-point-nine percentage points, one of the closest races in recent history.

But that wasn’t why Nisha had screamed. At least that wasn’t the only reason.

At 1:00 A.M., Ram Raje Graff came bawling into the world. Four weeks early, just like his oldest uncle, as his grandmother informed them all.

At 3:00 A.M., Yash and India stood outside Yash’s condo in San Francisco. In what had to be the nth miracle that day, they were alone.

“Nisha stole our baby’s name,” Yash said.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” India said, and he smiled, this man who was already naming their children. Then he pressed her into his front door and kissed the breath out of her.

“Are you ever going to take me inside, or do I have to carry you over the threshold?” she said against his lips.

“I know you can.”

“Of course I can.”

He threw the door open, then leaned over and picked her up. “Maybe next time. This time allow me the romanticism.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, melting into his hold, melting into him. Feeling heady and winded, she picked a kiss from his lips. He pushed into it, gave everything to her, his lips hungry and pliant. All of him laid bare with just that touching of their lips.

Everything inside her was shaking when he pulled away. His eyes were intoxicated, arousal opening up the centers in dark whorls, his aura so brilliant it blinded her.

“At this point, Governor Raje, I’d allow you just about anything.”

He placed her on the bed and fell to his knees in front of her, pulling off his shirt, then his inner shirt, hands sure. The beauty of his body, the confident grace, the complete and utter