Captive but Forbidden. Lynn Harris Raye

The idea was reprehensible to her. As well it should be.

      “Everything you say is for one purpose,” she said, her breath soft against his face.

      It wouldn’t take much to claim her lips. To plunder them with his own and taste their sweetness.

      “But you and Brady have got it all wrong. No one is out to harm me.”

      His grip on her tightened. “Are you willing to bet your life on that?”

      CHAPTER THREE

      VERONICA’S pulse skipped and bobbed like a white-water raft sailing toward a massive waterfall. But whether it was his insistence she was in danger or how closely he now held her, she couldn’t be sure.

      He gripped her so tightly that she could feel the strength of the leashed power in him. A shiver skimmed over her. He’d scared her with his talk of danger—but she wouldn’t let him know it.

      His hands splayed over her back. She could feel his breath on her face. She thought he might kiss her just to prove his mastery—and part of her longed for it.

      Another part wanted to run as far and as fast away from this man as she could get. For whatever reason, he affected her. She’d thought herself immune to men after Andre—handsome, flashy, selfish Andre—but Raj was proving her wrong on that count.

      She’d made the right decision when she’d told him she didn’t need his help. No way on this earth was she allowing him to pretend to be her lover. One way or another, it would be disastrous.

      She strained in the dark to hear him, to feel him, to guess his intent. His breath was on her lips. If she tilted her head, would their mouths touch? She told herself not to do it, and yet her head moved anyway.

      Abruptly, he released her.

      “Come,” he said. “It’s time to take you back to your room.”

      The light flashed on again, and she realized it was coming from his cell phone. His handsome face was in shadow, but she could see the gleam of his eyes as he stood and held out a hand to her.

      She took it, let him pull her up, her pulse skittering wildly the instant he touched her.

      “I’m not stupid,” she said, feeling the need to defend herself. “If I thought there was any real danger, I’d hire you in a minute. But there isn’t. The security I have can handle the day-to-day issues that arise.”

      The steady look he gave her said he didn’t believe it for a second. “Instead of justifying it to me, perhaps you need to ask whether or not you’re being honest with yourself.”

      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