this case,” she said, “I believe it is.”
Then she turned and strode away, holding her hand in front of the candle to keep it from blowing out. She closed the bedroom door firmly behind her. Fury churned and roiled in her stomach, burning like acid. Why did she let him get to her? He meant nothing to her. His opinion meant nothing.
He was no one, she reminded herself, nothing more than hired muscle. She didn’t let her Alizean bodyguards irritate her half so much, so why was she allowing this man to do so?
Veronica shrugged her shoulders to ease the tension and began to get undressed.
It was a relief to shrug out of the beaded gown and into her flannel pajamas. The Christmas elves marching merrily across the fabric cheered her. She’d thought they were whimsical and cute and she’d bought them impulsively. They were warm and cozy, and she didn’t regret it in the least.
Veronica went into the bathroom and washed off her makeup, then returned to the bed and jerked back the covers without removing all the fluffy pillows. Something slightly heavier than a pillow came away with the last tug and bounced down the bed, landing in the middle. She didn’t remember leaving anything on the bed when she’d left the room tonight.
Curiously, she lifted the candle.
At first, she wasn’t sure what the dark blob was. But then her breath caught in her throat. She wanted to scream, but her vocal chords had seized up. Her mouth opened and closed, like a fish gulping water.
“Raj,” she finally squeaked. “Raj. Raj! Raj!”
Each time she managed a little more breath, his name a little louder on every exhalation.
Until the door whipped open and he was at her side. He gripped her arms, bent his head until he was at her level. He looked concerned, intense. She realized he was speaking. Asking her what was the matter. If she were hurt.
She shook her head, turned away. She couldn’t look at that … thing … again.
She knew the moment he saw it. He stiffened. Swore.
Then he hooked an arm behind her knees and swept her up against his chest. She didn’t protest. She didn’t want to protest. Another moment and he was striding from the room. She buried her face in his shirt and let the tears fall.
HIS brain had switched into work mode, but his body was very aware of the woman clinging to him so tightly. Raj carried her into the living area, intending to put her on the couch and cover her with a blanket, but her arms were wrapped so tightly around his neck that he knew she wasn’t about to let go.
Instead, he settled into one corner of the couch with her on his lap and started to make phone calls. Red-hot anger was a thick brew inside him. It was only a doll on her bed, but someone had gouged out its eyes and splashed what had to be red paint across its body. The alternative was too horrible to contemplate.
Someone had sent a message tonight. An ugly, brutal message if the way Veronica clung to him, her silent tears dampening the fabric of his shirt, was any indication.
No matter what he thought of her, she didn’t deserve that kind of ugliness.
He let her cry, one arm firmly around her while he called in one of his security teams. He would have them sweep for any other signs of intrusion before he let Veronica stay here another night. Whether she liked it or not, he was definitely involved.
He considered having her moved to another hotel altogether, but he wasn’t entirely convinced that someone on her staff wasn’t behind the threats. In that case, moving would do no good. He fully intended to have them all investigated, starting immediately.
He finished the calls and laid his phone on the couch beside his leg. Veronica was curled up in his arms, her face pressed to his chest. She was wearing multicolored pajamas with elves on them—not quite what he’d expected when he’d burst into her room as she’d cried 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
