Captive but Forbidden (7 page)

Her blood ran cold. She’d snuck out of her father’s house once, when she was sixteen. He’d been so furious once he’d caught her that he’d had the place wired like a military compound.

Oh, yes, she knew about sensors.

Veronica worked hard to control her temper. What had happened to her as a teenager had nothing to do with now. She was someone who needed protecting, someone with big responsibilities. Raj had only been doing what she’d agreed to let him do.

“You could have told me,” she said tightly. “I wouldn’t have opened the window if I’d known.”

His look was dark. “Most people don’t open the window at 3:00 a.m. in the middle of winter.”

“I won’t be caged in,” she said, panic rising in her throat as her insides clenched in fear. “I won’t be controlled.”

“Then you should have considered another career path,” he said coldly.

She hugged her arms around her body. Her vision was still splotchy, but she could see that Raj was still in his tux. Or, partially in his tux. The jacket and tie were missing, and the top couple of studs were gone. His sleeves were rolled partway up his forearms. She realized that she’d never seen his bare arms before.

A shiver rippled over her.

Raj swore. “You’ll catch a cold,” he said gruffly as he came and put an arm around her, herded her toward the bed. “I thought you had more sense than this.”

“I’m fine,” she protested.

“Then why are you shaking?” he demanded.

She couldn’t answer, not without giving away the secret of how he affected her. Because, though she was slightly chilled, it wasn’t that making her shiver.

She wanted to shrug away from his touch, but couldn’t. She was still so angry with him—and yet there was that electricity between them, that spark and fire that sizzled along her nerve endings the instant he touched her. It took her forcibly back to that moment outside the hotel when he’d told her he was hungry. Her insides had turned to jelly then. Her legs had wobbled. She’d wanted to take his hand and lead him to her bedroom.

She hadn’t done it because she’d been confused. Did she want him because she felt close to him after the conversation in the car? Because she’d told him about the baby and she’d felt vulnerable? Because he’d held her hand and said he was sorry?

She wasn’t sure, and in the end she’d done nothing.

But right now all the same thoughts and needs were crashing through her again. And she was asking herself once more how she could want this particular man when she’d wanted no man for over a year now.

Because he was wrong for her.

He was beautiful, strong, proud, fierce. And too wild to ever be tamed. No woman would ever own this man, and she was no longer willing to be the sort of woman who was temporary.

But oh, how her insides rippled and churned at his
nearness. How her heart wanted the one thing that was forbidden to her.

He pulled the covers back and held them.

“Get in,” he said. She obeyed because she was starting to shiver in earnest now. But she hardly believed it had anything to do with the ten seconds of fresh air, and everything to do with him.

“Don’t think I did it because you told me to,” she said when he dropped the covers on top of her.

His mouth twisted. “I would never think that, Veronica. You would just as soon die of exposure than do what I say. If you’ve gotten in bed, it’s because you wanted to.”

She closed her eyes. “Too right.”

“Don’t open the window again.”

“I understood the first time,” she said. “Raj?”

He turned back to her. “Yes?”

“Will you stay and talk to me for a little while?”

He didn’t move, and she wondered if he would tell her no. But then he nodded, came over and sat on the edge of the bed farthest from her.

She didn’t know why she’d asked him to stay, except that she’d suddenly not wanted to be alone. She couldn’t remember her dream, but it hadn’t been a good one. She felt restless, keyed up, anxious.

There was a time when she couldn’t stand to be alone at all, when she’d had twenty-four-hour parties full of all the laughter, music and chatter she’d been denied growing up. She was no longer that person, but she still sometimes felt the weight of silence pressing in on her.

She deserved that silence, considering what she’d done. But tonight she couldn’t handle it.

Veronica reached up and turned out the light, needing the anonymity of utter darkness. She could feel
the solid presence of Raj nearby. Just like yesterday, it was comforting. She put a hand to her head, rubbed one temple. It was all the travel, all the days spent in hotels—all the days spent being serious and worrying about Aliz—that made her grateful for his company now.

She waited for him to speak, to say anything at all, but he didn’t. She huffed out a sigh. “You aren’t talking.”

“Neither are you.” She felt him move, the bed dipping as he slid up against the headboard and stretched out his legs.

“Where did you grow up?”

He muttered something beneath his breath. “Tell me about you. It’s far more interesting.”

“I disagree,” she said. “I want to know why you sound British but sometimes use American phrases.”

He blew out a breath. “My mother was American.”

“See, that’s interesting. Did you grow up in India?”

“No.”

“Is it a secret?” she prompted when he said nothing else.

“No. But it’s not important.”

Veronica sighed. “Fine. Don’t talk about it, then.”

“I won’t.”

“I grew up in Aliz,” she said, because she needed to say something. “I never left until I was eighteen. And then I didn’t go back until my father’s funeral two years ago.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. We weren’t close, but we were … working on it….”

She’d tried to make her peace with her father. They’d been speaking more frequently in the months before
his death. She sometimes couldn’t believe he was gone. Though she understood now what had motivated him to be so overprotective, she’d had a hard time forgiving him for it.

“It’s good you were trying.”

“I think so.” She turned on her side, facing Raj. She could see the outline of his profile in the dim light coming from the bedside clock. “What you’re really wondering is why the people elected me president since I hadn’t actually lived in Aliz for many years.”

He didn’t hesitate before answering. “I wonder why you ran, not why they elected you.”

She thought of her father, of Paul Durand. Of the hope and delight she’d seen in the eyes of those Alizeans who believed in her ability to change things for the better. “I thought I could do something good for the country.”

“I think you probably can,” he said. “I think you already have.”

For some reason, that made her throat tight. “I’m trying,” she said. “It’s very important to me.”

She thought he laughed softly. “Veronica, I don’t think there’s anything in this world you can’t do once you set your mind to it.”

“I’m sure there are a few things,” she said, her eyes stinging as her voice caught.
Damn it.
This was not at all what she’d intended when she’d started talking.

But this was how it had been since she’d lost her child. The yawning cavern snuck up on her when she least expected it, threatened to consume her.

Beside her, Raj swore again. And then he was moving, closing the distance between them and gathering her to him. She didn’t protest, though she knew she
should. How many times did she have to lose her composure in front of him?

Instead, she buried her nose in his pristine shirt and breathed him in. She loved being close to him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No,” she replied, her fingers curling into his shirt. “You were paying me a compliment. I liked it.”

She could hear his heart thudding in his chest. It beat faster than she’d have thought. For some reason, that made her happy. Raj Vala—strong, amazing, sexy Raj—wasn’t unaffected by holding her close. Perhaps he was a little bit human after all.

“But it made you think of what you’d lost.”

She swallowed, unable to tell him the rest of it. Unable to say that she blamed herself and always would. “You can’t guard what you say in hopes I won’t.”

His grip on her tightened. “I wish I could say something. Do something. I’d take away the hurt if I could.”

She knew he meant it, and it touched her more than she could say. A lone tear seeped from her closed eyes and trickled down her cheek.

“Just hold me,” she said. “It’s enough.”

R
AJ
knew he was losing the battle with himself. He closed his eyes and tried to pretend he was somewhere—anywhere—but here, in her bed, holding her close and listening to her soft breathing. He felt the bite of moisture on his skin, knew she was crying. He wanted to make it stop, wanted her to sleep again. He didn’t know how to make it happen.

She didn’t make any sound, but her body trembled in his arms.

“Veronica,” he said, his voice strangled, “it’ll be okay. Someday, it’ll be okay.” He wasn’t stupid enough to think that the kind of loss she’d suffered was something she would get over quickly. How could she? How could anyone?

Andre Girard was a fool. And Raj had a sudden desire to hunt the man down and make him suffer the way Veronica suffered. She shouldn’t have to go through this alone.

“I
know,” she said, her voice so soft and sweet, hovering on the edge of control. “
I
get upset sometimes, but it’s normal.”

He didn’t know what was normal and what wasn’t—but he couldn’t stand that she was in pain. He tipped her chin up with his fingers, lowered his mouth to hers.
He meant it to be a soft kiss, a sweet kiss. A kiss of comfort.

He should have known it was impossible.

Later, he wouldn’t be able to recall who’d taken the kiss deeper first. But it didn’t take more than a moment for it to happen. She clung to him, her mouth warm and inviting, her soft sigh like fuel to the fire stoking low in his belly.

He was harder than he’d ever been in his life. And he knew he was about to lose the battle between his head and his groin. He tried to remind himself of all the reasons he shouldn’t be doing this … and came up empty.

He tightened his fingers in her hair—that glorious, lustrous fall of platinum silk—and gently pulled her head back as he broke the kiss. He had one chance left. One chance to end this free fall into insanity.

“Tell me no, Veronica. Tell me to get out, and I will. For both our sakes, tell me,” he urged her. Because he was powerless so long as she clung to him. So long as she seemed to need his touch, his kiss, he was absolutely powerless to stop it.

He shouldn’t be. He should be able to get up and walk away. He’d suffered unbelievable agony while training for the Special Forces, and he’d never broken. He’d endured.

But he couldn’t endure her. She’d broken him, at least temporarily.

One word from her, and he could regain his strength. He could disentangle himself, distance himself. One word was all it would take.

“I can’t,” she said. “I don’t want to. I want you to stay.”

He groaned, and the sound reverberated through her body. Veronica’s heart thundered in her ears. Heat prickled
along the pathways of her nerves, slid deep into her senses, melted her core. She’d terrified herself with the words she’d spoken, and yet she’d known they were the right words.

She was ready for this again, ready for the intense pleasure of being with a man. With Raj. There were so many reasons why she shouldn’t, why she should have said no as he’d told her to do, but she couldn’t.

She simply couldn’t.

He’d touched something inside her that had lain dormant for as long as she could remember. It was both shocking and compelling. Why now? Why him?

Why?

“I can’t promise you anything beyond tonight,” he said roughly. “You have to know that, Veronica. That’s why you have to make me leave.”

She reached up and spread her palm along the shadow of his jaw. He needed to shave, but she loved the rough texture.

“Just give me one night, then,” she replied, surprising even herself with the request.

But he was untamable, this tiger. He needed to be free. She understood that. She would take what he could give her and then she would free him.

Veronica swallowed hard. For a moment, doubt assailed her. What was she doing? What was she getting herself into? Could she handle one night of passion between them? Was she really prepared for this?

But then he kissed her again, and she knew she was ready. Her body was on fire for him. Sizzled and sparked for him. Her pajamas—silk tonight—felt like sandpaper next to her sensitive skin. She wanted them off, and she wanted to burn herself up in his embrace.

In the dark of night, when no one would ever know.

When tomorrow came, she would deal with the aftermath.

His hand slid against the silk of her top, his fingers spreading to cup her breast. She moaned as he found and teased her nipple beneath the fabric. In answer, she tugged his shirt from his waistband, shoved her hands beneath it until she was touching the hot, smooth skin of his torso.

His groan whipped the froth of her excitement even higher. She struggled against the blankets, wanting to be free of them so she could wrap her body around his. He obliged her by grabbing a handful and yanking them down.

And then she was throwing a leg over his hip, pulling him to her. He rolled until he was on top of her, until that hard part of him she wanted so much was pressed intimately against the silk of her pajamas. In spite of the fabric between them, sensation streaked from her scalp to her toes when he flexed his hips and thrust against her.

His mouth—his beautiful, magical mouth—made love to hers so thoroughly that she never wanted to stop kissing him. For some men, kissing was a bothersome prelude to the main course. For other men—for this man—kissing was an erotic act in itself.

She’d never been kissed like this before.

Never.

But she wanted more than his kiss. Veronica pushed his shirt up as high as she could make it go. She wanted their clothes gone, wanted to feel bare skin on bare skin. Raj broke the kiss, reached over his shoulder and tugged the shirt over his head with one hand. She could hear the studs snapping, the fabric tearing.

It was sexy and wild and she loved it. Her heart hammered,
her pulse tripping as if she’d mainlined a vat of caffeine.

But oh, was he worth it.

His mouth found hers again, but his chest was now bare and she could run her hands over him. The hard planes and smooth skin, the dips and hollows of solid muscle that rippled beneath her fingers. So sexy.

Quickly, he unbuttoned her shirt, the fabric falling open until her breasts were exposed to his sight. She could see his eyes gleaming in the dim light coming from outside the windows. Her nipples peaked as he watched her. She was shameless. Utterly shameless.

“Raj,” she said, his name a plea on her lips.

“You’re beautiful, Veronica,” he said softly, kissing her once more.

And then he was sliding his tongue down the column of her neck, kissing the sweet spot where the nerves in her shoulder seemed to connect to the hot, throbbing center of her. She arched her back, gasped.

Raj said something against her skin, but she didn’t hear what it was. The vibrations rolled through her, crested in her core. If he kept doing that, she thought she might explode.

Impossible, but exciting. So exciting.

When his mouth closed over her nipple, she thought that was the end. How could she stand this much pleasure?

This much pain?

Because she couldn’t help but think of all that had happened in the months since the last time she’d been with anyone. She’d changed so much. Fallen to the depths of despair. Risen again as she’d determined to go on with life.

Raj seemed to sense her turmoil. He chose that moment
to slip his fingers beneath the waist of her pajama bottoms, and her temperature spiked. He made a noise of approval when he found the lacy top of her panties. Fire streaked through her. And
want,
so much want.

She thought she would die if he didn’t touch her.

But he did, finding her swiftly, his fingers clever and sure as they stroked her while a long moan vibrated in her throat.

“Veronica,” he groaned against her breast. “So sensitive, so responsive.”

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t tell him it was all because of him, because she trusted him. Wildly, she thought that she hardly knew him—and yet she knew enough. He was a good man, a strong man. He was reliable, even if he was ephemeral.

He was exactly what she needed when she needed it.

She would not think about tomorrow.

It didn’t take long for her to reach the pinnacle; her body tightened so painfully—then flew free as she gasped his name.

His fingers stilled.

And then he was removing her bottoms, tossing them aside and pushing her legs apart. She thought he would unzip his trousers, would plunge into her body and join them together finally—but he did no such thing. Instead, he slid down until his mouth—that clever, beautiful mouth—hovered above her most sensitive spot. She could hardly breathe in anticipation of what came next.

She was not disappointed. His tongue slid over her, again and again, nibbling, sucking, flicking, while she grasped handfuls of the bedding and thrust her hips upward.

This time when she came apart, stars exploded behind
her eyes. Her breath was sucked from her body as her back arched off the bed. She was absolutely helpless beneath the onslaught of pleasure.

He didn’t stop there. He took her to the top again, then pushed her over the edge until she was ready to beg him to stop, to let her breathe, to let her recollect her senses and reorder them again.

It was simply too much. It was primal and raw, and as much as she wanted to stop, she also wanted to go on. She wanted to reach the next peak, and the next. But she wanted to soar with him instead of alone.

He must have felt something of her desire, because he kissed his way up her body again—her torso, her breasts, her shoulder … oh, that shoulder!—and back to her lips, capturing them for a long, lingering kiss.

Then he surprised her when he rolled to the side and tucked her against him. Confused, she pushed herself up with one hand splayed against his glorious chest. He was so dark in the night, so powerful and protective. She shivered in anticipated delight.

“We aren’t finished yet,” she said.

His laugh was strangled. “Yes, but I’ve realized I have no protection. This is not what I came here for tonight.”

She leaned down and kissed him. “I’m on the pill,” she said against his lips. “I had to take it after … well, after I needed my hormones to stabilize. They were all over the place for a while.”

His fingers came up and stroked along her cheek. It was a sweet gesture, so simple and honest. She loved it.

“You slay me, Veronica,” he said. “And you deserve far better than I can give you. I’m humbled that you trust me, but you’ve just convinced me that I can’t take advantage of your vulnerability.”

She pulled away and sat up. She was completely naked, but she didn’t care. Let him look. If it made him uncomfortable, so much the better. Frustration was a hot stew in her belly. And disbelief. Could he really be serious?

“You’re the most arrogant man I’ve ever met, Raj Vala. And I’ve met some arrogant ones, believe me. What makes you think for one instant that I don’t know what I want? That I can’t make my own decisions? That I’m somehow blinded by your fabulousness and not in control of my own mind?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“You did,” she said firmly. “Because you’re so wonderful, of course, and no woman can resist you. Therefore, it’s up to you to be noble and deny my poor, weak female mind what it thinks it wants.”

“You aren’t thinking,” he growled, “or you wouldn’t want this. In the morning, you would regret it.”

“That’s my problem, isn’t it?” she snapped, anger and sexual frustration building to a peak inside her. “You’re here to protect me from an outside threat, not from myself.”

“I want you, make no mistake. And if I were a bastard like Andre Girard—or any of those other men you’ve taken to your bed—I’d seize what you’re offering me and to hell with your peace of mind.”

“Fine,” she said, scrambling from the bed and whirling to face him. She was absolutely on fire with anger. And humiliation. She’d thrown herself at him, and he’d turned her down flat. After making sure she had an orgasm or two—alone. It was ridiculous, but she felt so worthless right now.

“Clearly, you know what’s best for me. Now get out and let me sleep.”

He was so still and quiet that she didn’t think he would respond, but a few seconds later he exploded off the bed, grabbing his torn shirt and coming to loom over her. “You’ll thank me tomorrow,” he snarled.

She started to snap back at him, but something stopped her. Sometimes you had to pull the thorn from the tiger’s paw, right?

She put a palm on his chest, slid it up to his jaw. He shuddered beneath her touch, a great golden cat on the edge of control. Boldly, she reached for him, cupped her other hand around the bulge in his trousers.

“Veronica …”

“I’m a grown woman, Raj. I know what I want.” She took a step closer to him then, her bare breasts coming into contact with his naked chest. “I need this,” she told him. “Yes, you’re the first after my loss, but that’s why it has to be you. I do trust you, and I’m afraid I’ll never find the courage again if you don’t—” She sucked in a breath, her voice on the edge of breaking. It took her a few moments to regain control. “If you don’t make love to me. Please, Raj.”

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. She could see the column of his throat move as he swallowed. “God, you’re killing me,” he groaned.

She pressed her lips to his breastbone, gloried in the silken feel of his skin beneath her mouth. He didn’t stop her. Deliberately, she unsnapped his trousers. Pushed them down his hips until they slid the rest of the way on their own.

Finally, finally, she could cup him in her hand, nothing between them. He was so hard, like marble. So soft, like silk. She stroked him, squeezing softly.

“You win,” he said on a sharp intake of breath. “You win.”

And then he hooked a hand behind her knees and swept her into his arms. Carried her to the bed and lay her across it. Automatically, her legs went around his hips as he followed her down. Her body throbbed for want of him. He cupped a breast in his hand, tweaked her nipple as he kissed her again.

Then she felt him. Slowly, inexorably, he slid into her body. It burned, and she suddenly gasped with the pain of it.