onto the bed. Belatedly, he remembered her state of undress. He retrieved the towel lying on the floor, draped it around her. It was damp and cool, but it was all he had.
His men came to lift up Martine and take her away.
“Don’t hurt her,” Veronica said as Martine screamed.
“They won’t, I promise you.”
The room was quiet once Martine and the bodyguards were gone. Veronica lifted her head. Her eyes were red-rimmed. It tore him apart. She reached out as if to touch his face, let her hand drop when she thought better of it.
Despair tore into his gut. He’d done that to her. He’d made her wary of him, and he hated it.
“I’m sorry, Veronica,” he said.
She sucked in a shaky breath. Clung to him.
As much as he knew he should set her away, should put distance between them, he couldn’t do it. He loved the feel of her in his arms. He wanted to hold her for as long as he could.
His arms tightened around her. He’d almost lost her.
“Martine’s mother …” she said.
“I know. I just found out.”
“Madame Brun was behind it all,” she said. “She probably talked the police chief into doing what he did.”
“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
