Captive but Forbidden Page 6
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that Andre Girard just arrived.”
Her heart skipped a beat at that name falling from Raj’s lips. It was wrong somehow. Horribly, horribly wrong. For a moment she wondered if he knew what had happened between her and Andre, but then she told herself it wasn’t possible. Only a very small handful of people knew the true story.
“Andre is old news,” she said, more to convince herself than him. “I will not leave a party simply because he’s here, too.”
At that moment, Raj changed tactics. He slipped an arm around her waist, anchoring her to his side as he smiled down at her, his head dipping so close to her own that if she tilted her head back just slightly, their lips would meet. Her heart thundered in her breast so hard she was certain he could see it.
“I’m glad he’s old news,” he said softly. “Because he’s on his way over here.”
Veronica couldn’t speak as a shiver skidded along her nerve endings.
“I don’t care,” she finally managed to say.
“Good,” Raj said. “Neither do I.”
Then he dipped his head and kissed her.
Veronica couldn’t have prepared herself for the sensations zinging through her even if she’d had a year to do so. Raj’s mouth on hers was firm, the pressure exquisite. The barest slip of his tongue along the seam of her lips, and she was opening to him, taking him inside, tangling her tongue with his.
He made a sound of approval low in his throat that vibrated through her. Her core was melting, softening, aching. It was both surprising and alarming.
She knew there were reasons she shouldn’t be seen kissing this man so publicly, but she couldn’t think of even one. He scrambled her senses with his nearness. Made her long for more of the same. Made her want bare skin on bare skin, bodies tangled and straining together toward a single goal.
His fingers splayed over her jaw, tilted her head back so he could better access her mouth. The kiss seemed to go on and on, and yet she knew it had to have been only a matter of seconds before it ended.
She was staring up at him now, her lips stinging, her pulse throbbing in places she’d thought dead and buried until he’d walked into her life just twenty-four hours ago.
Raj was so cool, so unaffected. His golden eyes were hot, but that was the only sign he’d been at all moved by their kiss. He took a step back, his arm looped loosely around her.
“So you’ve found a new victim, I see.”
Veronica turned. Andre smirked at her, a pouty supermodel clinging to his arm. Andre was slick and handsome, as always. But he didn’t move her, not anymore. What she’d once thought was a fun and witty personality was now tarnished and dull.
Or, rather, her eyes had been opened to his true nature.
“Andre. I would say it’s a pleasure to see you again, but we’d both know that was a lie.”
Andre laughed. “It was good while it lasted, no? And just look at you now,” he said. “President of Aliz. However did you pull that one off, darling?”
Veronica refused to rise to the bait. It was what he wanted, but she relished denying him his wish. “The usual way. I ran against the incumbent and the people decided I was the better choice.”
“Ah, yes.” His eyes narrowed. “So much more interesting than motherhood, I would imagine.”
Veronica kept smiling even as a hot dagger of pain twisted in her gut. She wanted to turn into Raj’s chest, hide until Andre was gone, but she would not. She would not give her former lover the satisfaction of reacting.
She’d known he would take the shot. From the moment Raj had told her Andre was here, she’d known what would happen. She could feel Raj’s curiosity sparking, but she had to ignore it. Andre was her problem, not his.
“I believe there are rewards in many things,” she said.
Andre’s gaze flicked to Raj. “Careful, my friend. She’s not at all what she seems. You think she wants what you want, until one day she surprises you by wanting something else. If you’re lucky, you will escape before then.”
Raj’s grip on her waist tightened. “Veronica is an amazing woman,” he said. “Too bad that you couldn’t see it. Good for me, though. So thanks for being an idiot.”
Warmth flooded her. She knew he was only playing a part, but she was still grateful to him for saying it. He could have said nothing, but he’d chosen to defend her. When was the last time anyone had done so?
She’d been so devastated after she’d lost the baby. And yes, she’d turned to Andre, thinking he might feel her pain, too. But he hadn’t cared one bit. He’d considered it a lucky escape.
Andre’s smile was patently false. “Suit yourself,” he said. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Then he turned and walked away, the model trotting along dutifully.
Veronica let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. It had gone better than she’d expected, though perhaps she should have realized that Andre would never make a scene. It simply wasn’t his style to get overly worked up about anything.
“What did you ever see in that guy?”
She met Raj’s critical gaze. He looked at her as if she’d grown a second head and he was trying to reconcile it. Veronica shrugged self-consciously. “He was charming when we first met. We had fun together.”
Belatedly, she pulled out of Raj’s grip, the memory of their kiss still sizzling into her brain. He let her go easily enough, and it made her wonder if she was the only one who’d been affected by the contact. That kiss had stripped away all her barriers while it lasted. It had scorched her to the depths of her soul.
Raj, however, looked completely cool and controlled. As if it had meant nothing to him.
Veronica lifted her chin. She was tired and she’d had enough for tonight. Enough with pretense and drama. Enough with being Madam President. She’d done what she came to do. “I’m ready to leave now.”
To his credit, Raj only said, “I had thought you might be.”
It took a while to say her goodbyes, but eventually they were in the foyer and Raj was helping her into her coat while her bodyguard stood by. She’d assumed he would put her into the car and follow separately, but he climbed into the warm interior with her. The guard went into the front seat, and then they were rolling away from Mayfair, the darkened London streets still alive with sound and traffic even at this late hour.
The kilometers ticked by in silence, other than the street sounds coming from outside. Veronica turned her head and watched as snow drifted silently down. She thought about making small talk, but could suddenly think of nothing to say.
“You will have to tell me eventually,” Raj said, his voice like the crack of a gun in the silent car, though he spoke in a normal tone. It was the sound coming after so much silence that startled her and made her lift a shaking hand to her throat to fuss with her scarf.
“Tell you what?” she managed to respond. Her voice was even. Calm. She was proud of that.
Raj’s fingers suddenly threaded into hers, closed tightly. They both wore gloves, but the pressure of his grip was warm, soothing. Comforting.
He squeezed softly, as if he were imparting strength. “About the baby.”
CHAPTER SIX
SHE didn’t say anything for so long that he wondered if she’d heard him. But of course she had. She sat stiffly, her head still turned away from him. In the light of one of the buildings they passed, he saw her throat move.
Raj pulled off his glove and put his fingers against her cheek. She turned to him, her eyes filled with tears. His fingers were wet and his heart constricted at the pain on her face.
“I don’t want to talk about this with you,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. He didn’t want to push her, and yet he had to know. “But it could be important.”
She closed her eyes, shook her head slightly. Her platinum hair gleamed in the dim light, and he tho
ught of her last night, standing by her bed and calling for him. How vulnerable she’d looked, how innocent. Such a contrast with the woman he’d gotten acquainted with on paper.
Her chin dropped, as if she were surrendering. He found a box of tissues in a nearby compartment and handed them to her. She snatched a few into her hand and dabbed at her face.
“How can it be important?” she finally said. “No one really knows about it.”
“Someone does. Andre does.”
She sucked in a breath on a half sob. “Of course he knows. He was the father.”
Somehow, though he’d expected it, that news sliced through his gut like a sword. He didn’t want to think of Veronica with Andre Girard, didn’t want to imagine that she could have loved the man once. But she must have done so.
“Was he angry?” He still didn’t quite know what they were talking about, but he could tease the details from her if he worked gently enough.
Her laugh was bitter. “Angry? God, no. More like relieved. He didn’t want a child, so he’s not in the least bit upset there isn’t one.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Veronica.” He squeezed her hand again. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her tight, but he wasn’t sure she wanted him to do so. Instead, he sat and waited.
“You’re good,” she said, dabbing at her eyes again. “You’ve managed to get me to talk about it after all. No matter that I don’t want to.”
“I have no wish to cause you pain,” he said. “But I need to understand who could want to hurt you. Whoever it is knows about the baby. And this person sees it as the perfect way to get to you.”
Her free hand clenched into a fist on her lap. “I wish I could understand why. It has nothing to do with anyone but me and Andre.”
“Was there another woman? A jealous ex, perhaps?”
“There’s always a jealous ex. But why would anyone care enough to be so cruel when we’re no longer together? We weren’t even very serious, but then I got pregnant and—”
“And what?” he prompted when she didn’t continue.
She bent forward as if she were in pain, rocked back and forth, her face turned away from him. It alarmed him. His throat felt tight as he waited.
A sob escaped her, but she stuffed her fist against her mouth and breathed hard, as if trying to cram the rest of them down deep.
Raj put an arm around her, pulled her toward him. She turned instantly, buried her face against him.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice muffled and broken.
“It’s all right,” he said softly. “It’s all right.”
A lump formed in his throat as he watched the lights of storefronts go by. He had no idea where they were, or how long they were silent, before she pushed away from him and dabbed her eyes.
As if she hadn’t just cried her heart out. As if she hadn’t turned to him for comfort while she did so.
She was an enigma to him. Soft and hard at once. Strong and weak. Filled with sadness and pain. Not at all what he’d expected from the party girl in the tabloids.
If anything, he realized how very fragile she was beneath the layers of steel she cloaked herself in. He had no right to try and break through those barriers.
“I lost the baby soon after I learned I was pregnant,” she said. She shook her head, swallowed hard. He could hear the audible gulp as she pushed her sobs down deep again. But then she speared him with a look. “I won’t break, Raj. I’m stronger than you think. And I won’t let anyone use this to stop me from doing what’s best for Aliz.”
Her mind worked much more quickly than he’d given her credit for only yesterday, when he’d watched her work the crowd from his position in the bar. He’d thought her pampered and shallow, but he had to admit that she had depths he’d never guessed at.
“Who is the woman in the tabloid reports?” he asked. “Because I can hardly credit she’s the same person as the woman sitting beside me now.”
“Oh, no, she’s definitely the same. Some of it is exaggerated, of course. But much of it is true.” He wondered if she knew she was rubbing her thumb along the underside of his palm. The pressure was light, but it made him want to strip her glove off and see what her touch would feel like on his skin.
“I can hardly believe it,” he said, trying to lighten the conversation once more.
“That was my version of acting out,” she said quietly. “My rebellion against my father. The worse I behaved, the angrier he got. Did you ever act out, Raj?”
Her question surprised him. A dart of pain caught him behind the breastbone. “I think everyone has,” he said.
Except that he hadn’t. Not really.
He’d always had to be the adult in the house, especially once his mother started experimenting with drugs the summer he turned twelve. If he hadn’t made sure they had food and a roof over their heads, however temporary, they’d have starved or frozen to death.
He’d known nothing but responsibility from the time he was young. He’d been stripped of a normal childhood by his mother’s addictions and constant need for attention.
Acting out had been the furthest thing from his mind when all he’d cared about was food and shelter. Not that he could admit that to Veronica. It made him seem pitiful—and he definitely wasn’t pitiful.
“Yes, I suppose so,” she said. “Some of us worse than others, perhaps. But those days are over now, at least for me. I have too many things I want to do in life. I’ve wasted enough time.”
Raj stifled a laugh. “You’re twenty-eight and the president of your nation. How have you wasted time?”
Her smile was unexpected. It shook at the corners, as if she were still on the verge of tears.
It made him want to kiss her again. A white-hot bolt of need shot through him as he watched her mouth.
“That’s true, yes. But I’m realizing what I really want. I’m only sorry it took me so long to figure it out.”
“And what is it you want, Veronica?” Because he knew what he wanted right this minute. He wouldn’t act on it, of course. Kissing her at the party had been one thing. Kissing her now that they were alone was another altogether.
“You will laugh.”
“I won’t.”
“You will, but it’s okay. I want a home. A real home, with a family. Maybe it’ll just be a cat or a dog, or maybe I’ll find a man I adore, who adores me in return. But I want the dream, the happy-ever-after where I like who I am and someone agrees with me.”
Raj swallowed. Home. Family. He had no idea what those things were, really, other than a roof and four walls, and people whose happiness and welfare you were responsible for. “It’s a nice dream. I hope you get it.”
“You think it’s ridiculous,” she said.
“No.”
“You do.”
He sighed. “It’s not that. It’s just that I doubt you’ve ever been without a home. You want to imbue the word with more than it needs. You want it to fulfill you emotionally when, really, that is your responsibility.”
Her thumb had stilled in his palm. Gently, she disentangled her hand from his and he knew he’d gone too far. Or maybe he’d gone far enough. It was better if she had no illusions about him. Better if they nipped this growing attraction in the bud and kept their relationship on the professional level it was meant to remain on.
“You’re a cynic,” she said. “I hadn’t realized it.”
“Not a cynic. A realist. Home isn’t a magical place. It’s shelter. It’s having enough to eat, being warm. You have always had these things in abundance. Not everyone is so lucky.”
She bowed her head. “No, you’re right. I’ve never gone without the necessities. But I was talking of something more. Something intangible.”
The car drew to a halt then and the door opened. They’d arrived back at the hotel she’d moved to earlier in the day. He thought he should say something more, should soothe her somehow—but he was at a loss. Instead, he exited and held his hand out for her.
“I do,” he said, because he had to say something. “I just don’t happen to agree. Be thankful you’ve never slept on the street, or wondered where your next meal was coming from. Be thankful you’ve never had to fight for a dirty blanket to keep warm with because it was that or nothing. You are free to be you, wherever you happen to be. You already have what you need.”
She sucked in a breath. The air misted around her face as she let it out again. She looked sad. “I hadn’t quite thought of it like that.”
“Many people don’t.”
“Maybe because it’s easier to think that if only we have X, then Y will happen.”
He was surprised at how readily she accepted the idea. And it made him feel somewhat guilty, as well. She’d been through a lot recently. More than she’d told him, and it wasn’t his right to make her question the ideas that comforted her.
“I’m sorry, Veronica.”
Her brows drew together. “For what? For speaking the truth? For reminding me of all the advantages I’ve had?”
He put his hands on either side of her face, gloried in the soft catch of her breath. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. It was enough. It would have to be enough, because he could not act upon it. Even if she weren’t under his protection, he couldn’t take her to his bed.
Because she’d been through too much pain and loss, and because she wanted more than he could give. He could see it in her eyes. Hell, she’d just said it aloud. Veronica was a woman who wanted a family.
The one thing he felt unqualified to ever provide. Family wasn’t for him.
“I’m sorry for making you question what you want,” he said. “There’s nothing wrong with building a safe place in your head, and with trying to get there. Sometimes, X does lead to Y.”
“You’re really sweet,” she replied softly.
He wanted to laugh. Sweet? Him? No way. “If it makes you happy to think so, then, yes, I’m sweet.”
She giggled, then slapped her hand over her mouth as if she were surprised she’d done so. It was as if she’d let him see the real Veronica for a moment, the one beneath the pain and mystery. He’d had glimpses of her before, but never so natural as this. A sharp pain settled beneath his rib cage and refused to go away.