Up Close And Personal. Lynn Raye Harris

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      Brady’s expression was fierce. “I’m glad you think so. Clearly, the one you had tonight was no good.”

      She looked angry suddenly. Deliberately, she pulled her hand from Brady’s grip, crossing her arms over her chest. “So you knew about that?”

      “I don’t question Raj’s methods,” Brady said. “He’s never failed me.”

      Veronica slapped him on the shoulder. It wasn’t hard. It was the kind of slap Raj imagined a sister would give to her annoying brother.

      “That’s for not telling me what you were planning,” Veronica said, her brows two angry slashes in her face, though her tone was gentler than Raj had expected it would be.

      Brady, however, looked like a puppy who’d peed on the carpet. He knew he wasn’t in big trouble, but he was in trouble nevertheless. And he didn’t like it.

      Poor Brady. The way he looked at Veronica, spoke about Veronica—he seemed to want more than her friendship, but he’d decided to be satisfied with what she gave him. Even now he looked at her as if she was the sun and he one of the lucky planets in her orbit.

      Typical with women like her, Raj thought sourly. She drew men like flowers drew honeybees.

      His mother had been exactly like that before she’d lost her beauty from the drugs and drinking.

      Until then, however, she’d managed to keep them both warm and dry by dragging him to stay with her various “boyfriends.”

      There’d never been a shortage of men willing to take her in. They’d taken him by extension. Some had ignored him. Others had resented him. And at least one had threatened him.

      “I knew you wouldn’t approve,” Brady was saying to her.

      “I wouldn’t have,” she admitted. “But Raj has managed to show me the error of my ways.”

      Brady’s gaze slewed to him. “Has he?”

      Veronica was looking over Brady’s shoulder at him with wide eyes. She gave her head a little shake, as if to warn him. Raj knew what she wanted from him. And he had no problem complying, because the fewer people who knew about the doll, the better.

      Raj shrugged. “She was stubborn at first, but I pointed out that if I’d come to kill her, I’d have been able to do so with very little trouble once I’d got rid of her bodyguard.”

      Brady heaved a sigh as he turned back to her. “I knew you’d be sensible, Veronica.”

      “She is very sensible,” Raj said as Veronica’s cheeks turned pink. No doubt she was remembering how insensible she’d been until she’d discovered the doll. She turned and went to sit on the couch, once more the cool, imperious lady.

      An imperious lady in elf pajamas. He had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the incongruity.

      “So what now?” Brady asked.

      “I’m staying close,” Raj said. “Veronica doesn’t want her staff to know she has extra security, so we’ve decided to pretend there’s a bit of a … uh, relationship.”

      Brady blinked. His gaze raked over Raj, as if just now realizing he was without his tie and jacket, and then he turned to Veronica. She heaved a sigh. “Don’t look at me that way, Brady. It’s the only way to keep this a secret. Raj will pretend to be my newest boyfriend. It makes the most sense.”

      “Is that wise? You’re the President of Aliz now,” Brady said.

      Veronica tilted her head back and threaded her fingers through that glorious platinum hair. “Yes, well, I’m allowed a bit of a personal life. And besides, it’s not really true. Raj is undercover.”

      Brady seemed to take the news in stride when it came from her. Naturally. “I suppose you’re right.” Then he turned to Raj, his eyes sparking. “Raj, a word, if you don’t mind?”

      Veronica rolled her eyes. “For God’s sake, you’re the one who orchestrated this in the first place. It’s all strictly professional—isn’t that right, Raj?”

      Raj’s blood hummed. Electricity crackled in his veins, but whether it was irritation with his old friend or something to do with Veronica, he wasn’t quite sure.

      “You know I don’t get involved with clients, Brady. Have I ever let you down?”

      The other man shook his head. “Not so far.”

      Raj heard the undertones that seemed to say, But this woman is different. Irresistible. You’ll get involved, and you’ll slip up somehow at the job.

      “Do you want my involvement or not?” Raj said mildly.

      “I do, but I thought you had people for this.”

      Ironic, since Raj had originally suggested one of VSI’s teams and Brady had said he wanted Raj personally. “A team won’t be able to uphold the necessary fiction. The client wants it kept quiet. This is the best way.”

      Brady gave him a look that held volumes of meaning. “Whatever it takes to keep her safe.”

      “That’s the idea.”

      Brady stayed awhile longer, chatting with Veronica, while Raj kept in contact with his people. Her staff was scattered throughout the hotel, but they were beginning to make their way back.

      There were only eight people with her. A small number, but Aliz was a small country. Besides, it would make it easier to have them watched.

      Within half an hour, they’d all trickled back to Veronica’s suite. He sat by and watched Veronica interact with them, surprised that she seemed so cool and controlled as she did so. He’d had the doll removed and the room checked thoroughly, so nothing was out of place.

      He watched for signs of guilt or surprise in anyone, but there seemed to be nothing. The guard who’d abandoned his post arrived, but his guilt was most certainly of a different nature.

      Veronica’s chief of staff, a man named Georges, dealt with the man quickly and effectively. He was ordered to pack his bags and told he would be returning to Aliz on the next available flight.

      And then everyone was gone again. Brady said his goodbyes as Raj sipped the coffee that Martine, Veronica’s secretary, had prepared for him. Veronica walked with Brady to the door. He gave her a kiss on both cheeks, and then—after shooting Raj another meaningful look—he was gone, too.

      “Ready for bed, darling?” Raj said, setting down the coffee.

      She looked at him haughtily. He almost laughed. But he was glad to see her be strong, glad that she wasn’t succumbing to the terror and uncertainty. She’d played her part quite well tonight. Once her people had returned, she’d acted as if nothing had happened. He—and whoever had put the doll there for her to find—were the only ones who knew.

      “Don’t get carried away with your part,” she told him.

      And then she sagged

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