Captive but Forbidden. Lynn Harris Raye

his name.

      She’d scared him. He hadn’t known what to expect when he’d answered her cry, though he was relieved it hadn’t been worse. The doll had apparently been shoved beneath the pillows on her bed. When she’d pulled the covers free, the doll tumbled loose. He cursed himself for having missed it, but the truth was that he couldn’t have known.

      He would check her quarters more thoroughly in the future.

      She held him tightly, but he could feel that she was beginning to be uncomfortable doing so. Her body was stiffening, her fingers opening and closing on his shirt periodically.

      She didn’t like being dependent on anyone. He’d guessed that about her earlier when she’d been so insistent she didn’t need his help. She was proud, and used to getting her way.

      A few moments more, and she began to push herself upright. He tightened his grip on her, surprised that he wanted her to stay in his arms, that she felt good there, but immediately let her move away. This changed nothing between them. She was still spoiled, still selfish and self-destructive.

      He was here to do a job, nothing more.

      She got to her feet, her back to him, and scrubbed her sleeve across her face. His heart pinched. But he was a professional and he would view these events dispassionately. He couldn’t do his job if he were emotionally invested.

      “Thank you for not saying I told you so,” she said a few moments later, her back still to him. The candles flickered, and he found himself wishing she would turn around. That she would look at him.

      “What was that about, Veronica?”

      She shrugged. It was supposed to be a casual gesture, but it failed miserably. “I wish I knew.”

      He wanted to be gentle with her, yet he couldn’t afford to leave anything unexamined. Her life might depend on it. “I think you do.”

      Her shoulders drooped. “I’m not prepared to discuss it,” she said softly.

      In that moment, he had to admit that he admired her more than he’d thought possible. She could have lied, could have insisted she didn’t know what he was talking about. But she didn’t.

      “I don’t know who could have done it, and that’s the truth,” she continued.

      Raj stood and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezed. “You don’t want to talk about it. I can respect that—for now. But there may come a time when you have no choice.”

      She turned to him then. A sharp stab of emotion pierced him at gut level. Her face was so fresh and young, so innocent. She’d removed all her makeup and stood before him with red-rimmed eyes, the tracks of her tears gleaming in the candlelight.

      He wanted to pull her into his arms, tuck her head against his chest and tell her it would be okay. Instead, he kept his arms rigid at his sides.

      “Thank you.” She dropped her gaze away, as if she suddenly couldn’t look at him. For some reason, that bothered him. She’d been so fiery earlier, so confrontational. She hadn’t backed down once. This Veronica was too timid, too defeated.

      He didn’t like it.

      Raj put a finger under her chin, forced her to look at him. Her eyes glistened, but she didn’t cry. He could tell that she was finished with crying. Determined.

      “Will you let me help you now?” He phrased it as a question, though as far as he was concerned there was no question.

      Her throat moved. “Yes,” she said, her voice uncertain, thready. She repeated it, the word stronger this time.

      “A wise decision,” he said.

      Her expression hardened, just for a moment. “My staff can’t know.”

      He’d already considered that. If someone in her employ was doing these things, it wouldn’t do any good for them to know she had extra security.

      “Then we’re back to the original plan,” he said. “Can you do it?”

      Her eyes flashed. But she thrust her chin out and gave a firm nod. “If that’s what it takes, yes.”

      He grinned at her. That’s the Veronica he’d been looking for. “Then we’ll begin tonight.”

      Her eyes dropped, boldly taking in his form. Then she met his gaze again, one eyebrow quirking. “You’re a bit overdressed for the part, considering what I’m wearing.”

      His body went from zero to sixty in half a second.

      He couldn’t help it, though he was thankful the room was dark enough she couldn’t tell.

      “We’ll improvise,” he told her. Because he most certainly wasn’t stripping down to his silk boxers.

      She wrapped her arms around herself, once more the vulnerable, helpless innocent. He reminded himself that she was neither of those things, though she was certainly frightened—and with good reason.

      He put his hands on her shoulders. “You can trust me utterly, Veronica. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

      She let out a shaky sigh. “I know that.”

      Suddenly the suite was flooded with light. Veronica brought her hand up and covered her eyes. Raj squinted as he made his way over to the wall and flipped the switch, plunging the room into candlelit darkness again. Then he turned on a couple of lamps while Veronica blew out the candles.