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he shoved a hand through his hair—and she realized that he looked as if he hadn’t slept much lately.

      Her fault, no doubt.

      “We’ll discuss it before we arrive,” he said.

      Veronica bit down on the spike of temper. Perhaps he was still finalizing his plans and didn’t want to share them yet. Or maybe he had no idea what to expect when they arrived. She could wait another hour. She’d trusted him this far, and he hadn’t failed her yet. “Fine. But I expect a full report quite soon.” His mouth was a hard line. “You’ll get it, believe me.”

      Veronica awoke with a start, confusion crashing through her. Then she remembered that she was on a plane, flying back to Aliz. After Raj had walked away, she’d closed her eyes for a few minutes. She hadn’t expected to fall so soundly asleep.

      Or maybe she had, considering how little sleep she’d gotten the night before. A flight attendant materialized at that moment. “Madam President, would you like something to eat?”

      She started to refuse, then realized her stomach was growling. But they would be in Aliz soon, and she could wait. She sent the man away with a request for water instead and turned to raise the window covering that someone had lowered.

      Her blood froze as myriad stars glittered against a sea of black. It was wrong, all wrong. It shouldn’t be dark yet. Aliz was only four hours from the U.K., and they’d left early enough to arrive before nightfall.

      Veronica unsnapped her seat belt. Before she could rise, Raj was there. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his camel trousers. His navy shirt was unbuttoned partway, exposing a tanned V of skin, and his dark hair curled over the collar, so carefree and sexy, as if he belonged on a beach instead of here.

      Her heart beat sharply. “Where are we, Raj? Where are you taking us?”

      Part of her already knew she’d been betrayed, but the other part—the part that had trusted this man with her body and soul last night, that still wanted to trust him—refused to believe he could be so duplicitous. It was a mistake, that’s all. She’d simply miscalculated, or they’d had to go a different route for some reason.

      There was no way he was forcing his wishes upon her. No way he was taking her somewhere against her will. He wouldn’t do that.

      “We’re going to my home in Goa,” he said, and her stomach went into a free fall.

      She was stunned, as if she’d been running fast and suddenly smacked up against a brick wall.

      “Goa? Isn’t that a bit far from Aliz?” She sounded so bitter, so terribly bitter. Fury was bubbling in her veins like a volcano preparing to erupt—she felt as if she would burst apart at the seams if she had to stay on this plane a moment longer.

      But what choice did she have? What goddamn choice?

      He had her right where he wanted her—and he was controlling her, taking away her autonomy, locking her up. Revulsion mixed into the vile stew inside her, rose into her throat so that she wanted to retch with the bitterness of it.

      She would not do so. She would not crumble, not now.

      “I’m sorry, Veronica,” he said, though he didn’t look sorry at all. “But it’s necessary. You can’t go back to Aliz just yet because it’s not safe for you there. The chief of police controls the government—and all the weapons, I might add. If we landed, he could execute you—all of us—before the next sunrise.”

      She was a block of ice. Her teeth began to chatter, though she tried very hard not to let them. It was no use. Raj swore, sinking down into the seat beside her and gathering her into his arms before she could stop him.

      He was so warm, so solid. And she wanted to melt against him, wanted him to hold her while she thawed, while she drew his heat into her body.

      But she couldn’t. She couldn’t accept comfort from him when he’d betrayed her. She’d trusted him, given him something of herself that she’d been unable to give in a very long time, and it meant nothing to him. He’d betrayed her so easily.

      Veronica shoved him as hard as she could. “No,” she said between clenched teeth. “Let me go. I hate you.”

      “I’m sorry,” he said again, his grip not loosening. “I had to do it. I won’t let them harm you.”

      An angry sob tore from her throat before she could stop it. And then she was fighting like a madwoman, shoving hard, screaming her fury. He let her go and she scrambled back, away from him, pressing herself against the wall, her knees drawing up to fend him off if he tried to touch her again.

      He did not do so.

      His gaze was troubled, but unrepentant. There was a long red scratch down his cheek, but she refused to care. If it hurt, so much the better. He deserved it.

      “How dare you?” she snapped. “How dare you think you have the right to decide for me?”

      His eyes flashed, and then his expression hardened. “Go ahead and have your tantrum, Veronica, but would you put them in danger, too?” he asked coldly, jerking his head toward the rear of the cabin and the men and women who sat there, pretending not to stare at them. “You have no idea what that man is willing to do, no idea what awaits you—or them—and yet you would have me take you there? You might risk it on your behalf, but can you risk it on theirs?”

      She hated that he made her feel guilty, hated that he sounded sensible. Hated that he turned this against her when he was the one who’d betrayed her. She drew in a shaky breath, trying so damn hard not to cry—because she was furious, damn it, not because she was weak—and glared at him.

      “No one would hurt them,” she said. “They’ve done nothing wrong. I’m the only one who need fear reprisal.”

      “You don’t know that,” he said, his words measured. “You only think you do.”

      Then he stood and looked down at her, his presence so big and imposing and infuriating. She wanted to tear his eyes out.

      And she wanted to kiss him. The force of the longing took her breath away.

      Veronica closed her eyes and turned her head, her cheek pressing against the cold, vibrating wall of the airplane cabin. No, never again. Her body might not realize that everything had changed, but she did. She could never, ever trust him again.

      “Go away,” she said. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

      She didn’t think he would go, but when she cracked open an eye after a long silence, he was gone.

      And she felt emptier than ever.

       CHAPTER NINE

      IT WAS early morning when they landed at Dabolim Airport on the Bay of Dona Paula. The aquamarine water sparkled like fire-tipped diamonds in the morning sunlight as the plane came in for a landing. After the snow in the U.K., the blinding blue sky was insufferably cheerful.

      Veronica didn’t feel in the least

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