“Is that wise? You’re the President of Aliz now,” Brady said.
Veronica tilted her head back and threaded her fingers through that glorious platinum hair. “Yes, well, I’m allowed a bit of a personal life. And besides, it’s not really true. Raj is undercover.”
Brady seemed to take the news in stride when it came from her. Naturally. “I suppose you’re right.” Then he turned to Raj, his eyes sparking. “Raj, a word, if you don’t mind?”
Veronica rolled her eyes. “For God’s sake, you’re the one who orchestrated this in the first place. It’s all strictly professional—isn’t that right, Raj?”
Raj’s blood hummed. Electricity crackled in his veins, but whether it was irritation with his old friend or something to do with Veronica, he wasn’t quite sure.
“You know I don’t get involved with clients, Brady. Have I ever let you down?”
The other man shook his head. “Not so far.”
Raj heard the undertones that seemed to say, But this woman is different. Irresistible. You’ll get involved, and you’ll slip up somehow at the job.
“Do you want my involvement or not?” Raj said mildly.
“I do, but I thought you had people for this.”
Ironic, since Raj had originally suggested one of VSI’s teams and Brady had said he wanted Raj personally. “A team won’t be able to uphold the necessary fiction. The client wants it kept quiet. This is the best way.”
Brady gave him a look that held volumes of meaning. “Whatever it takes to keep her safe.”
“That’s the idea.”
Brady stayed awhile longer, chatting with Veronica, while Raj kept in contact with his people. Her staff was scattered throughout the hotel, but they were beginning to make their way back.
There were only eight people with her. A small number, but Aliz was a small country. Besides, it would make it easier to have them watched.
Within half an hour, they’d all trickled back to Veronica’s suite. He sat by and watched Veronica interact with them, surprised that she seemed so cool and controlled as she did so. He’d had the doll removed and the room checked thoroughly, so nothing was out of place.
He watched for signs of guilt or surprise in anyone, but there seemed to be nothing. The guard who’d abandoned his post arrived, but his guilt was most certainly of a different nature.
Veronica’s chief of staff, a man named Georges, dealt with the man quickly and effectively. He was ordered to pack his bags and told he would be returning to Aliz on the next available flight.
And then everyone was gone again. Brady said his goodbyes as Raj sipped the coffee that Martine, Veronica’s secretary, had prepared for him. Veronica walked with Brady to the door. He gave her a kiss on both cheeks, and then—after shooting Raj another meaningful look—he was gone, too.
“Ready for bed, darling?” Raj said, setting down the coffee.
She looked at him haughtily. He almost laughed. But he was glad to see her be strong, glad that she wasn’t succumbing to the terror and uncertainty. She’d played her part quite well tonight. Once her people had returned, she’d acted as if nothing had happened. He—and whoever had put the doll there for her to find—were the only ones who knew.
“Don’t get carried away with your part,” she told him.
And then she sagged against the door, raised a shaking hand to her head. Raj was moving before he ever realized he’d stood.
Veronica’s heart crashed against her rib cage as she watched him. He moved like a cat, so sleek and deadly, coming straight for her. She was frozen in place, watching the way the fabric of his shirt stretched across his chest, molding the hard curves beneath. Her mouth went dry at the thought of what lay beneath the crisp white material.
She rubbed her palm over her eyes. What was she doing thinking of him naked when some maniac had gotten inside her room and put a defiled doll on her bed?
“Don’t go there,” he said firmly, reaching her side and putting an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t give it power over you.”
“I’m trying,” she whispered. Because it was so cruel, so evil. Reminding her of what she’d lost.
Of what she’d destroyed.
Because she was the one responsible for what had happened to her baby, wasn’t she? If she’d known she was pregnant sooner, she wouldn’t have continued to drink cocktails or stay out until the early-morning hours, partying with her so-called friends because she couldn’t bear to be alone.
It didn’t matter what the doctor told her. She knew it was her fault.
“You need to sleep,” Raj said, his arm firm around her. She wanted to turn into his embrace, wanted to bury her face against his solid chest again. She’d felt so safe for those few minutes earlier when she’d done so. “When was the last time you had a good night’s rest?”
Veronica shrugged as he herded her toward the bedroom. “I don’t remember. I sleep, but not well.”
She hadn’t slept well in months. Not since she’d realized what a truly horrible person she was.
“Then get into your bed and try.”
She stopped at the threshold to the bedroom. “I can’t sleep in there tonight.”
He skimmed a hand along her jaw, the touch warm and light. It made her insides tighten. Heat—glorious heat—leeched into her bones. How could she need his touch when she didn’t even know him?
“I’m not going anywhere. You’ll be safe.”
“I don’t really want to sleep with you, Raj,” she said, though she realized it was a bit of a lie. Right now, she was tempted to seek oblivion in his arms, tempted to drive away her memories by using his body for one hot night of sex.
“We aren’t sleeping together,” he replied. “But I’ll be here nonetheless.”
“Where are you planning to sleep, then?” she asked.
“The couch folds out.”
She swallowed. He would be here, sharing the same space but not quite sharing it. She had to admit that she felt safe at the thought—as well as a bit unnerved.
“It’s happening so fast,” she said, shaking her head. “By tomorrow, every newspaper and tabloid will be simultaneously writing about our grand affair and our inevitable breakup.”
“Not quite yet. We have a day or two with this snowstorm keeping everyone busy.”
She snorted. “I wish I had your confidence. Not that it matters,” she said. “I don’t really care what they say, so long as you find whoever did this.”
“I will,” he said in that sexy voice of his that sent little whirlpools of heat spiraling down her spine.
Veronica dropped her gaze again, unable to keep looking at him. Up close, those golden eyes made her long for things she had no right to long for. Made her reckless, dizzy and willing to do things she hadn’t ever thought she’d do again.
“I don’t want to sleep in that bed tonight. Do you suppose we could trade?”
His sigh was long-suffering. “We can’t trade because this is the exterior room. But you can have the fold-out bed. I’ll take the floor.”
She lifted her head again, her