Up Close And Personal. Lynn Raye Harris

hold me,” she said. “It’s enough.”

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      RAJ 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