Captive but Forbidden Page 15

“Some people don’t deal well with the loss of power.” In this case, it was the wife rather than the husband, who, though disappointed in the outcome of the election, was a true politician.

  “She threatened to take away Martine’s mother’s pension if Martine didn’t do what she wanted. Martine spied on me, Raj. She told Madame Brun about the baby, and she pasted together the letter and put the doll in my bed.”

  “I know. I just got the report. Her mother worked for the Bruns for many years, and lives in an old-age home paid for by the pension she earned from them. If it were taken away, she’d be homeless. Or worse, with the economic situation in Aliz.”

  Veronica looked fierce for a moment. “I wouldn’t have allowed that to happen if she’d only come to me! I’d have taken her mother in, paid the pension, whatever it took. Martine was my secretary for two years! I thought she knew me better than that.”

  “I imagine she was just scared. And I doubt she ever believed Madame Brun would ask her to …” He looked at the gun lying on the bed, so dark and deadly and gleaming blue in the light. He couldn’t speak the words he was thinking. To kill you. “How did you get the gun?”

  “All I had was the towel,” Veronica said. “I reacted without thinking. I threw it at her.”

  Ice formed in his veins. She’d thrown a towel at an armed woman.

  “You were lucky.”

  She nodded, her arms tightening around his waist. “I couldn’t let it end like this. Not after everything.”

  My God, she was brave. And incredible. In another life, he’d have probably hired her to work for him. With training, she’d have made a hell of a security professional. Except that he couldn’t bear the thought of her in danger.

  Raj tipped her head back so he could see into her eyes. She was frightened, but not to the point of shock. Not yet anyway.

  Her gaze dropped to his mouth. And, damn, but he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her. Softly, sweetly. He needed to know she was real, that she was still here and still capable of responding. That he wasn’t imagining it. That he hadn’t actually walked in on something much worse and started to hallucinate that she was unharmed.

  Her mouth opened, her tongue tangling with his as she moaned softly. And then she was arching her body into his and he was pulling her closer, pressing her against the evidence of his need for her.

  She broke the kiss first, her body stiffening in his embrace. He could tell the moment everything changed, and he let her go. His heart, his body, cried out in protest, but he loosened his grip and she stepped out of it.

  Brave, brave Veronica.

  She held the edges of her damp towel, her dignity not damaged in the least, and gazed up at him. “It’s no good, Raj,” she said. “We could fall into bed together now, but you’d still walk out in the end. I’m not putting myself through that again.”

  “I do want you,” he said in despair. “I want to be with you.” He shoved a hand through his hair, blew out a harsh breath. He felt tight inside, coiled, as if he had to do something or explode. Maybe they could work it out. He could try. For her, he would try.

  “I’ll come to Aliz when I can. You’ll be traveling, too—we’ll meet in different places, take it a day at a time.”

  She shook her head sadly. Her hair was starting to dry, curling over her shoulders and down her back. She was as wild and untamed as Goa, as beautiful as the sea. He wanted to possess her, ached to possess her.

  Frustration arced through him. He knew she wasn’t going to accept what he was trying to offer. What was he offering, really?

  “It’s not enough, Raj,” she said. “I want more. I’m not going to settle for half a life with you.”

  “It’s all I can give you,” he said, aching for her. He wanted to give her exactly what she desired. But he was afraid he would fail if he tried to take it that far. He had to start small.

  She smiled sadly. “I know. But it’s not enough for me. Some women might accept whatever sort of life they could get with the man they love, but I won’t. I can’t. I’ve already lost something precious to me, and survived the experience. I’ll survive you, too.”

  Love? She loved him?

  He was stunned into silence. He couldn’t think of a thing to say. He didn’t need to.

  She did it for him.

  “Goodbye, Raj.”

  The days turned into a week, and then two weeks, three weeks, and still the pain of losing Raj was as raw as it had been that day in her bedroom when he’d held her close and tried to give her what he thought she wanted.

  It still made her angry. And so very frustrated.

  Veronica steepled her hands on her desk and rested her chin on the point. She’d been busy these past weeks. She’d worked hard to see her vision for Aliz come to fruition. There’d been endless meetings, phone calls, interviews and a speech to the nation.

  Aliz wasn’t out of the woods yet, but things were looking better. The economy was stabilizing, and foreign investment was beginning to trickle in again. People were getting fed and things were getting built.

  She couldn’t ask for more.

  Her gaze strayed to the evergreen garland decked with red and gold ribbon that draped over the fireplace in her office. It was almost Christmas, but she hadn’t taken time to do anything to prepare. There was no one to shop for, no one to bake cookies for, no one to sit before the tree and enjoy the lights with. She wouldn’t even have a tree if it weren’t for the fact she had a housekeeping staff who had put one up for her because they’d always put one up for the Bruns.

  It stood in her residence, decorated with silver and red and gold, the white lights always on whenever she walked in at the end of the day. There were no presents beneath it. She thought of her baby with a pang. He would have been almost eight months old. He wouldn’t have understood what the glitter and presents were about, but he would have likely relished the bright colors and enjoyed tearing the paper.

  Veronica didn’t bother trying to sniff back the tears that happened whenever she thought of moments like this. It hurt, but she no longer felt as if she was solely responsible for her loss.

  She had Raj to thank for that.

  Her private cell phone rang and she jumped. It was not Raj’s name on the display. She hadn’t expected it would be, yet she always seemed to hope it might. But why? There was nothing but heartache in going down that road.

  And she’d had enough heartache to last a lifetime.

  “Hello, Brady,” she said as she answered the call.

  “Angel,” he replied. “How are you? It’s been a few days and I wanted to check.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, resting her forehead in one hand. “How about you? Any celebrity gossip for me?”

  Brady chuckled. “I’ve heard some juicy things about a certain new heartthrob and a Hollywood icon,” he said. Then he spent the next fifteen minutes giving her every salacious detail of a May-December affair currently delighting the Rodeo Drive set.

  “So what are you doing for Christmas?” he asked when he’d finished the tale.

  “Nothing much. I have a country to run, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  “Surely you can spare a few hours for fun. Come to the Hotel Lefevre tomorrow night. I’m throwing a party.”

  Veronica blinked. “The Hotel Lefevre? In Aliz City?” It was the oldest and best hotel on the island. Understated and elegant, it had suffered through the economic crisis like everywhere else. That it was still open was a miracle, though the owners had had to sell off many of the treasured paintings that had once adorned the walls, including one that van Gogh had painted for the original owners when he’d spent time on the island before going to France.

  “Yes. I’ve decided I want to go somewhere nice, and I want my friends to come, too. Aliz is a charming island. I hear it’s making a comeback.”

  Her heart swelled with gratitude and love for her friend. “Brady, I …” She didn’t know what to say. “Are you here now?”

  “We just arrived
this morning.”

  “We?”

  “Me and Susan. I really want you to meet her.”

  “Susan?” She was beginning to feel like a parrot.

  Brady sighed. “The woman I plan to spend the rest of my life with.”

  Veronica’s mouth dropped open. “Brady, when I saw you in London, there was no one in your life. What happened? And why didn’t you tell me this first? It’s the most important thing you’ve said so far!”

  “It’s crazy,” he said, his voice filled with laughter. “I know that. But sometimes you just know when you’ve found that special person.”

  A twinge of pain throbbed in her heart, but she listened delightedly as Brady talked about Susan—who wasn’t an actress or a celebrity or a gold-digging wannabe who worked as a cocktail waitress while waiting for her big break. No, Susan was a veterinarian he’d met when they’d both stopped to help an injured dog on the freeway.

  “So will you come?” he finally said.

  “Of course I’ll come! I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

  She got off the phone feeling happier than she had in weeks. So her own life was a mess, but her friend was happy and he’d come all this way to show his support for her and her country. On Christmas.

  Her eyes filled with tears again, but they were happy tears. Though seeing Brady would make her think of Raj, she would survive it. Besides, how could she be upset about being loved and wanted by her friends?

  The next day was Christmas Eve. Veronica didn’t have to work, but she went into her office and made some calls anyway. She’d already given her staff the day off, so the administrative wing was mostly silent. Afterward, she spent most of the day watching Christmas movies on television, then prepared for Brady’s party. He’d sent over a formal invitation, and she knew there would be television cameras when she arrived.

  It was part of the process, something that would delight people, and she dressed with care for the appearance. She donned a long red dress, strapless, that shimmered as she walked. The fabric was iridescent, gathered at the waist, and fell into a full skirt that was given shape by a tulle slip beneath. She wrapped a silver shawl around her shoulders and carried a small silver clutch. Silver-jeweled strappy high heels rounded out the look.

  A bodyguard in a tuxedo opened the limo door for her as she emerged from her private entrance. He was Alizean, tall and handsome, but there was no spark of desire as she gazed at him in his black coat and tie. He climbed in beside her and they were on their way.

  The media was camped out in front of the Hotel Lefrevre, and Veronica did her best to look glamorous and happy. She waved as the cameras flashed, then turned and posed—an old habit—before entering the hotel. Brady was waiting for her, a petite, smiling woman at his side. Veronica hugged them both as Brady introduced Susan. She was truly happy for them, and yet she was jealous, too.

  If only her own love life had gone so smoothly. But Susan was a delightful woman, and Veronica found that she really liked talking with Brady’s new love. Susan was down-to-earth, no-nonsense. She was pretty, but not gorgeous in that fake way that Hollywood encouraged.

  They moved toward the old ballroom, and Veronica stopped in the entry, her head tilting back as she took it all in. The grand room was decorated beautifully, with candles, greenery and shiny lights and bows reflecting from the mirrored surfaces along the walls. The plaster was chipped in places, the paint faded, but it wouldn’t remain that way for long if they had many more parties like this one. The room was filled with food and people, and Veronica’s heart felt full.

  “Thank you, Brady,” she said, squeezing his arm when he came over and handed her a glass of champagne.

  “For what?”

  “For this. For doing this here. It means so much.”

  He smiled back, his gaze flickering to a point over her shoulder before coming to rest on her face again. “You might not thank me when you see what I’ve brought along with me.”

  She looked at her friend for a full moment—and then the hairs on her neck prickled as if an electrical current had zapped through the air. She knew who she would see the moment she turned.

  He was, as always, achingly handsome. Her heart twisted in her chest. Looking at him hurt. And it made her happy, too.

  “Damn it, Brady,” she said to the man at her side. “You’re always interfering.”

  He shrugged. “It’s my nature.” Then he kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

  She started to tell him he was an ass, but he’d disappeared. Raj smiled at her, and her insides melted. She had to work hard to keep the frown on her face.

  “Hello, Veronica.”

  “Why are you here?”

  His laugh was so rich, so beautiful to her ears. God, she’d missed him. And she didn’t want to do this. Because she would have to miss him again when it was over.

  “I’ve missed that directness of yours,” he said. “You have no idea how refreshing it can be.”

  Her heart was thundering. “If you’re about to tell me how other women are just not a challenge after me, save your breath. I don’t want to hear it.”

  He looked puzzled. “I wasn’t planning to say anything of the sort.”

  Looking at him made her ache. It brought all the loneliness of her life crashing down on her. “I really don’t want to stand here and talk to you like everything is normal, Raj, so you’ll have to excuse me.”

  She had to escape, right now, before she fell apart in front of everyone. Before she ranted and railed and told him what a miserable bastard he was for not loving her back. Before she revealed how pitiful she was because she still loved him, and a part of her was almost willing to take whatever crumbs he might bestow if only she could have another night, another day, another moment in time where they laughed and talked and made love as if they cared about each other.

  Blindly, she turned and fled. When she reached the hall, she hesitated only a moment before she headed for the ladies’ room, shoving open the door and going over to the small sink to press her hands on either side and breathe. Her face in the mirror looked perfectly normal, but she didn’t feel normal.

  The door swung open again and then Raj was there, looming in the mirror behind her. She heard the twist of the lock in the door and she spun to face him.

  “Get out.”

  “It’s like déjà vu,” he said, his sensual mouth curving into a smile. “You, me, a ladies’ room.”

  It was a much smaller ladies’ room, with only this sink and mirror, the delicately papered walls and another door that led into the single toilet. There was no space, and she couldn’t breathe with him so close. He filled her senses, made her ache with longing.

  “It’s a nightmare,” she said. “I had no idea you hated me so much.”

  His brows drew together, two hard slashes over his golden eyes. “Hate you? My God, Veronica, I’m here because I can’t forget you. Because I need you. Hate is the furthest thing from my mind.”

  She swallowed, shook her head, prayed the tears wouldn’t fall. Because it was Christmas Eve and she was feeling vulnerable. Because she missed her baby, missed him. Because she was alone in this world and feeling very, very sorry for herself right now.

  “Need isn’t enough, is it? I need food to live, but I don’t need chocolate cake. You need sex, but it doesn’t have to be me.”

  He was beginning to look angry. “Sex? You think I’m here for sex?”

  “What else? You’ve already told me it can be nothing more.”

  He blew out a breath. “I was wrong.” Because he’d tried to move on with his life, tried to forget about the few days he’d shared with Veronica, the days where he’d felt more alive than he ever had before. He’d gone back to London, and then on to New York. When New York didn’t work, when he still felt so restless he wanted to howl, he’d gone to Los Angeles.

  In the past, when he wanted to escape, when he wanted peace, he’d gone to the house in Goa. But he couldn�
�t go there anymore. Because he couldn’t imagine himself there without her.

  “You’ve ruined it for me,” he said, watching the way her lip trembled so slightly, the way she was determined not to break in front of him.

  She was so strong, so beautiful. She took his breath away. And he’d realized during the long, lonely few weeks without her that he didn’t want to live like that anymore. He’d been denying himself because he’d thought he was doing the best thing for her. But the truth was that he’d been cheating them both.

  “Ruined what?” she asked.

  “Being alone.”

  She sucked in a breath, hugged her arms around herself. Bit her lip. An arrow of pure lust shot through him. That was his lip to bite.

  “I’m the President of Aliz,” she said softly. “I have a two-year term. This is my home. I can’t go with you to Goa, or to London, just to keep you from being lonely. Nor do I want to.”

  “Do you still love me?” he said, his heart careening in his chest. He didn’t think she’d stopped in three weeks time, but he wouldn’t put anything past Veronica St. Germaine. The woman was a force to be reckoned with. If she wanted to stop loving him, she could. She was a woman who didn’t shrink from challenges.

  She turned her head away, but he could still see her face in the mirror. Two red spots bloomed on her cheeks. Her nostrils flared. Her mouth was a flat line as she compressed her lips. “Does it matter?” she finally said.

  “It matters to me.”

  Her head snapped around, her eyes flashing angrily. “Why? So you can congratulate yourself yet again on your amazing skills?”

  “Skills?”

  “Those in which you deny yourself any chance at happiness simply to prove what a strong man you are.”

  He’d hurt her deeply, more deeply than he’d realized. And he wasn’t proud of himself for it. “I have no wish to deny anything.” He clenched his fists as his side, frustration hammering through him. “I’m here because I can’t deny it.”

  She lifted her chin. “I need more from you, Raj. Telling me you want me isn’t enough.”

  He swore. “I know.” And then he resolved to lay it all out there. If she rejected him, it was nothing less than he deserved. But he had to take the chance. “I love you, Veronica. I can’t live without you. I don’t want to.”