LITMIR.BIZ

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Kalyana.

      His father King Uttam was all for Maazin helping with relief efforts. He should be a part of it. Farhan was an excellent doctor, but he didn’t have the training Maazin had.

      However, his mother Queen Aruna was a little more reluctant to hear a prince of Kalyana was out there helping with relief efforts and getting his hands dirty. She thought it was unsafe.

      Of course, even if she didn’t show it, Maazin worried his mother had never been happy with anything he’d done since Ali had died.

      But Maazin wanted to help.

      He needed to help.

      Still, his mother had made her reservations clear...

       “You’re a prince!”

       “So? What else should a trained surgeon be doing, Mother?”

       “You’re only a surgeon because of your time in the Royal Guard.”

       “So what would you have me do?” Maazin asked.

       “You should stay in the safety of the palace.”

       “And tend to royalty? To aristocrats?”

       “Perhaps. And perhaps if you had done more of your royal duties and spent time with your betrothed, Lady Meleena wouldn’t have left!”

       “I don’t care that she left, Mother. I don’t love her. I couldn’t stand be around her.”

       “Ali did his duty!”

       “I’m sorry that I’m not Ali.”

       His mother’s had a faraway look as she murmured, “You’re right. You’re not...”

      Maazin winced. He hadn’t wanted an arranged marriage. Especially with someone his father had chosen only for the betterment of the country.

       Your father chose for Ali and he’d been happy. Your father chose for Farhan and he’s happy with Sara.

      He ignored that niggling little thought.

      Right now Kalyana needed him. When Ali had been alive, he’d always been out there lending a hand, and that was the least Maazin could do since he was responsible for Ali’s death.

       You’re not.

      Only he felt he was. And he was sure his mother felt that he was responsible for Ali’s death. Ever since then his mother had been cold and distant. With him especially.

      And he hated it that he was the cause of her grief, that he was just a living reminder of her pain. And he couldn’t help but wonder if she wished it was him who’d died instead of Ali.

      He pushed that thought aside and watched as the Canadian plane landed with much-needed supplies. Cyclone Blandine had done so much damage and they hadn’t been very prepared. Storms had come and gone, but there had never been a cyclone like this. It had formed out of nowhere and so quickly and it had struck so hard.

      There was no way they could prepare for quite how extreme it was and they were lucky that it hadn’t done even more damage.

      The plane from Canada that he’d been waiting for made its landing. Maazin had made sure that the airport runway in Huban had been cleared of debris so that they could receive assistance from other countries, like Canada, and he had his sister-in-law Sara to thank for that assistance.

      The plane circled as the winds were high.

      Maazin waited with bated breath as the plane came around again then touched down. He didn’t know why he was so nervous about this plane landing, but something about this was eating away at him.

      He hadn’t felt like this in so long.

      The last time he’d felt like this...well, he didn’t want to think about her.

      This was not the time to think about it. It was not time to think about Jeena. Of course, she was never far from his mind. He was always thinking of her, whether he liked it or not. Always wondering why she’d left him. It drove him mad.

      “They’re ready for us, Your Highness,” his driver, Kariff, said.

      Maazin nodded. “Let’s go and fill this van with supplies and their doctors. The southeast region is in dire need of supplies and medical help.”

      Kariff nodded and drove the van toward the large plane that had dropped its rear door to make a ramp, ready to start unloading its precious cargo of medical supplies and doctors to aid them.

      Kariff parked close and Maazin got out of the van. He opened the side doors and the back so that Kariff and a couple of the other men he’d brought with him could start loading up.

      “Who should we be reporting to?” a female voice asked, which sent a shiver of recollection down his spine. He knew that voice. He knew it well because it was burned into every single neuron in his brain. Just the mere sound of her voice fired them off, bringing every bitter-sweet memory to the surface.

      Maazin turned around and came face to face with someone he’d never thought he would see again.

      His blood froze and everything around him stopped. He couldn’t quite believe his eyes and he wondered if he was dreaming. It was like she had walked right out of his dreams, like nothing had changed, like time had stood still. She hadn’t changed one bit. Her rich, dark brown hair was tied back in a braid, just like the first day he’d met her. Her skin was still a warm, rich tawny color.

      Her deep brown eyes widened and her red lips, lips he remembered so well the taste of, dropped open for a moment and a subtle pop of coral colored her cheeks. She was just as shocked as he was.

       Jeena.

      In an instant he remembered when he’d first seen her. She’d looked so out of place and uncomfortable on the polo pitch.

      She’d worn a long emerald dress and high heels as she’d teetered on the grass, trying to flip over a divot.

      He’d been so entranced by her and had wondered who she was...

       “You’ll fall over, trying to flip those divots in those heels.”

       She looked up, embarrassed. “Pardon?”

       Maazin knelt down and took her foot in his hands. “May I?”

       She pursed her lips and nodded. He removed her shoe and pried off the large chunk of turf that had been impaled on the end of her stiletto heel. He replaced the shoe and then stood, steadying her in his arms, catching a scent of her perfume.

       Jasmine and vanilla. It was intoxicating and he was instantly drawn to her.

       “Thank you... Your Highness.”

       “Ah, so you know who I am.”

       “Everyone knows who you are,” she whispered, and wouldn’t look at him.

       “Well, I am at a loss. I don’t know who you are. I have never seen you at one of these events before.”

       She smiled. “My name is Jeena. I am here with my friend as her guest.”

       “And who is your friend?”

       “Aishraya Raj.” Jeena nodded in the direction of her friend. “Her husband is a diplomat, but I’ve known Aishraya for a long time.”

       Maazin smiled and bowed at the waist. “Well, allow me to welcome you to our little match...”

      Maazin tried to calm the pulse that was now thundering in his ears. She had been the only one to

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