Page 226 of Claimed By the Maharaja
“That's because you only see what I choose to show,” he said.
“I've already seen what I needed to.”
His eyes flickered.
“You believe my paintings of you prove something romantic,” he said.
“They prove I matter,” she replied.
“It proves obsession,” he said. “Nothing more.”
Her heart ached even though she knew he was wrong.
She had photographed things she loved for fifteen years. She knew the difference between obsession and devotion.
She didn't argue the point. She just looked at him.
He held her gaze.
“I'm not capable of feeling love the way others define it,” he said. “I learned to study facial expressions because I didn't intuitively interpret them. I don't understand certain emotional responses without analysis.”
“You gave me the emerald fish pendant,” she said. “You took me to the frozen lake because you wanted me to hear it sing. You pulled me out of a factory before you thought about anything else.”
He said nothing.
“That isn't just an obsession, Bharat.”
His breath hitched slightly when he heard her say his name.
“You're choosing someone you don't fully understand,” he said.
“Then explain it to me,” she replied.
“I already have.”
“No. You explained fear.”
He didn't respond.
“In the studio,” she said, “you told me you liked that I was reckless and impulsive. That my temper wasn't something you wanted fixed. You said it without hesitation. Like it wasn't even a question.” She stepped closer until the space between them disappeared. “Why doesn't that apply to you? Why does my mind get to be exactly what it is, but yours doesn't?”
He didn't answer.
Her hand lifted slowly and rested against his chest.
Over his heartbeat.
It was steady. Controlled.
“I'm not staying because of a contract,” she said softly. “I'm here because I want to be with you.”
He closed his eyes briefly. Just once.
When he opened them again, something in his restraint had shifted.
His hand came up and covered hers, where it rested over his heart.
“You still don't know what you're choosing,” he said.
