a cat, so sleek and deadly, coming straight for her. She was frozen in place, watching the way the fabric of his shirt stretched across his chest, molding the hard curves beneath. Her mouth went dry at the thought of what lay beneath the crisp white material.
She rubbed her palm over her eyes. What was she doing thinking of him naked when some maniac had gotten inside her room and put a defiled doll on her bed?
“Don’t go there,” he said firmly, reaching her side and putting an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t give it power over you.”
“I’m trying,” she whispered. Because it was so cruel, so evil. Reminding her of what she’d lost.
Of what she’d destroyed.
Because she was the one responsible for what had happened to her baby, wasn’t she? If she’d known she was pregnant sooner, she wouldn’t have continued to drink cocktails or stay out until the early-morning hours, partying with her so-called friends because she couldn’t bear to be alone.
It didn’t matter what the doctor told her. She knew it was her fault.
“You need to sleep,” Raj said, his arm firm around her. She wanted to turn into his embrace, wanted to bury her face against his solid chest again. She’d felt so safe for those few minutes earlier when she’d done so. “When was the last time you had a good night’s rest?”
Veronica shrugged as he herded her toward the bedroom. “I don’t remember. I sleep, but not well.”
She hadn’t slept well in months. Not since she’d realized what a truly horrible person she was.
“Then get into your bed and try.”
She stopped at the threshold to the bedroom. “I can’t sleep in there tonight.”
He skimmed a hand along her jaw, the touch warm and light. It made her insides tighten. Heat—glorious heat—leeched into her bones. How could she need his touch when she didn’t even know him?
“I’m not going anywhere. You’ll be safe.”
“I don’t really want to sleep with you, Raj,” she said, though she realized it was a bit of a lie. Right now, she was tempted to seek oblivion in his arms, tempted to drive away her memories by using his body for one hot night of sex.
“We aren’t sleeping together,” he replied. “But I’ll be here nonetheless.”
“Where are you planning to sleep, then?” she asked.
“The couch folds out.”
She swallowed. He would be here, sharing the same space but not quite sharing it. She had to admit that she felt safe at the thought—as well as a bit unnerved.
“It’s happening so fast,” she said, shaking her head. “By tomorrow, every newspaper and tabloid will be simultaneously writing about our grand affair and our inevitable breakup.”
“Not quite yet. We have a day or two with this snowstorm keeping everyone busy.”
She snorted. “I wish I had your confidence. Not that it matters,” she said. “I don’t really care what they say, so long as you find whoever did this.”
“I will,” he said in that sexy voice of his that sent little whirlpools of heat spiraling down her spine.
Veronica dropped her gaze again, unable to keep looking at him. Up close, those golden eyes made her long for things she had no right to long for. Made her reckless, dizzy and willing to do things she hadn’t ever thought she’d do again.
“I don’t want to sleep in that bed tonight. Do you suppose we could trade?”
His sigh was long-suffering. “We can’t trade because this is the exterior room. But you can have the fold-out bed. I’ll take the floor.”
She lifted her head again, her eyes meeting his. He was so solemn, so serious. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
He shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ll drag the covers from the other bed. Believe me, I’ve slept in worse places than on a floor.”
She helped him remove cushions and unfold the bed from the couch. Once that was made, he disappeared into her bedroom and came back with a pile of blankets and pillows that he laid out on the floor nearby.
She felt guilty as she climbed into the cozy bed, and yet she couldn’t bear to sleep in the other room. She’d thought she could, but she couldn’t.
And tomorrow, she was going to play the diva and demand another room. At least her reputation was good for something.
“Raj,” she said once the light was out and everything was quiet again.
“Yes?”
“Where did you sleep that was worse than a floor?”
“You don’t really want to know.”
“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise. Though if you don’t want to say, that’s a different matter.”
She heard him sigh. “I was in the military, Veronica. The Special Forces. I’ve slept in mud, blood, blazing deserts and freezing blizzards. A floor in a posh hotel is heavenly.”
“I still feel badly for taking your bed,” she said.
“Then invite me into it.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “You say that to shut me up. I heard what you said to Brady.”
“Maybe I lied.”
Her heartbeat throbbed in the darkness. “I don’t believe you.”
“Invite me into your bed and find out.”
Flames licked her skin at the thought. “Good night, Raj,” she said, punching her pillow and turning onto her side.
She wasn’t sure, but she thought he laughed softly. “Sleep well, Veronica.”
There wasn’t much chance of that now that he’d planted the image in her head of the two of them in this bed together. Skin against skin, heat against heat, soft against hard.
She practically moaned at the thought.
LONDON was beautiful in the snow, especially Hyde Park with all its trees and open expanses. Though it was dark, the snow made everything bright and fresh. Veronica knew that it wouldn’t necessarily look so pristine during the day when all the warts and blemishes of humanity shone through.
But for now, she could enjoy it as her limousine crawled its way toward Mayfair and the exclusive party she’d been invited to there.
Tonight, she hoped to persuade Giancarlo Zarella, the Italian hotel baron, to bring one of his exclusive resorts to Aliz. Where
