Then he turned and opened the door instead of waiting for an answer. Not that she had one to give. He went through first, and then motioned her to follow. She stayed close behind him as they worked their way toward the upper floors.
The hotel was in disarray, but the staff had managed to get the emergency lights working in the main hallways and stairwells. Exit signs also provided light, though meager, and she heard scraps of conversation about the generator and its failure to provide backup power. Raj said nothing, simply led the way through the hotel until they came to her room. She was only surprised for a moment that he knew which room was hers.
Of course he knew. Brady had told him everything.
Before she could ask him how he planned to get inside with the power out and the card reader down, he had the door open.
“Behind me,” he said.
It was on the tip of her tongue to thank him for his help and tell him to go, but she said nothing. Instead, she did what he told her to do. Regardless of how she felt about him—or about Brady’s meddling—it was clear that Raj knew what he was doing. She felt safe, at least for the time being.
He gave her the motion to stay where she was, then went into each room of her suite in succession before returning and giving her the all clear.
Veronica let out a long sigh of relief—not that she’d expected anything to be wrong. She was just glad to be back in the privacy of her room again. She kicked off her platform stilettos, her feet sinking into the plush carpet. “Thank you for escorting me,” she said. “I’d offer you a drink, but it’s getting rather late. Tell Brady you tried your best. He knows how I am.”
Raj fished out a lighter from somewhere and lit the candles that were sitting on the tables. She’d thought they were merely decorative and, in truth, had forgotten all about them. Then he shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket and threw it across the back of a chair.
“I’m not leaving just yet.”
A hot bubble of anger popped inside her. She wanted to be alone, wanted to strip out of her gown, put on her pajamas and watch a little bit of television—assuming the power came back on—before she fell asleep. “I didn’t ask you to stay.”
He lifted his mobile phone and tapped a few buttons. “Until your security returns, I’m staying.”
“That’s really not necessary. I’ll lock the door behind you.”
“Forget it,” he said, turning away from her to talk to someone on the phone.
Veronica sank onto the couch and folded her arms over her chest. Damn the arrogance of the man. But she already knew it was useless to order him to leave. Useless to do anything but wait.
If she were lucky, Brady would come looking for her—and then she could give them both a piece of her mind. She’d had quite enough of being told what to do lately. She had to conform to a schedule as president, had to take meetings and attend functions, had to let her day-to-day activities be far more structured than they’d been since she’d lived on her own.
But she’d agreed to do those things when she’d decided to run for office. What she hadn’t agreed to do was let a dark, sexy stranger intrude on the very small slice of privacy she had remaining.
Her gaze drifted to Raj. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he seemed engrossed in his call. He was even more golden in the candlelight than he’d been in the low lights of the powder room. So handsome. So dangerous. Like the tiger she’d first envisioned when he’d filled the small anteroom and made her aware of him on a level she wished she weren’t.
A ring glinted on his right hand, a signet made of gold. She hadn’t noticed that before.
His white tuxedo shirt stretched across his chest, and onyx studs winked at her in the flickering light. He reached up and loosened the stud at his neck before yanking the bow tie off and tossing it aside.
She started at the small wedge of bare skin he’d revealed. He glanced up then, straight at her, and she twisted away, cursing herself for getting caught. A moment later he ceased talking and tucked the phone into his trouser pocket.
“Was that Brady?” she asked.
“No.”
Frustration knotted her stomach. Since she didn’t know what else to do, she reached up and began to unpin her hair, dropping the pins onto the glass side table with a clink, clink, clink. Then she threaded the fingers of both hands through her hair, loosening the glossy mass.
When she stopped, Raj was watching her. He stood in the same place he had been, his gaze hard.
Her stomach flipped, her pulse humming with energy. She looked away and began to remove her jewelry.
“Have you been doing this kind of thing long?” she asked. If he insisted on staying, then the least she could do was bore him with questions. Maybe he’d decide to leave her alone after all.
“A few years.”
“How exciting.” She slipped off the jewelry—bracelet, necklace, rings—and dropped everything on the table with the pins. “Who’s the most famous person you’ve ever worked for?”
“Confidential information.”
She glanced up at him, her heart squeezing as she took in the masculine beauty of his face once more. “Ah, of course.”
“Are you trying to interview me, Madam President?” he asked, one corner of his mouth twitching with humor.
She swallowed. Humor was not at all the effect she’d been going for. Veronica pulled her feet up beneath her and began to absently rub one instep while her blood beat in her temples, between her breasts. “Not precisely. But if we’re to be stuck here together for the foreseeable future, it seems a way to pass the time.”
It took her several moments to realize that the side slit in her gown had dropped open to reveal the curve of her legs. She resisted the urge to cover herself, though she suddenly wanted to do so. But she would not let him think she cared that his hot eyes skimmed her form.
“How does one get into the bodyguard business anyway?”
“You’ve certainly grown chatty,” he observed, meeting her gaze once more. She felt heat rising in her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. Then he shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I was in the military. It seemed the logical thing to do when I got out.”
“Oh, I see. And do you work for a company that sends you out on these jobs?”
“In a manner of speaking,” he said.
The humor was back, but this time she didn’t know why.
“If this were a job interview,” she pointed out, “I don’t think I’d be inclined to hire you based on these answers. You’re almost monosyllabic.”
He sank onto the chair opposite, his big form sprawling comfortably—as if he belonged here, in her suite. As if he were the one in charge and she merely a supplicant.
She didn’t like that he made her feel inconsequential simply by being in the same room.
“Fortunately, this is not an interview,” he said. “You don’t need me, as you’ve pointed out.” His golden eyes speared her so that, once more, she was mesmerized. “And I don’t do interviews. No one hires me. I decide if I’ll help them.”
“My, my,” she said, her face growing hot for some reason. “Aren’t you special?”
He leaned forward then, his gaze raking her. She only hoped he couldn’t see the tap, tap, tap of her heart.
“That’s the way your world works, Veronica. But not everything is a competition,