No attempts to persuade me otherwise?”
He inclined his head. “Just like that.” Then he turned and walked toward the door.
Her chest ached at the thought he was leaving her after what they’d been through together. So easily, as if it meant nothing.
Which it probably hadn’t. He’d told her he couldn’t give her anything else. It was her fault if she wanted to believe more was possible.
“You aren’t just going to leave her, are you?” Brady called out angrily.
Raj stopped and turned back to them, hand on the door. “No. I’m going to pack.”
Three hours later, they were airborne. Veronica sat in a plush leather seat and gazed out at the snowy English landscape below. She knew she owed the speed of their departure to Raj.
Without him, she’d still be waiting on a chartered plane since Aliz did not maintain a government fleet. Instead, Raj had let her use one of VSI’s company jets. She and her staff were on their way home, thanks to him.
He sat across the aisle from her, engrossed in whatever was on his computer screen at the moment. He’d barely said a word to her in the three hours since he’d come into her suite and told her of the situation in Aliz.
She’d been mortified to have to hear it from him when she should have known before he did.
Yet another sign that Raj was powerful and connected.
His fingers tapped something on the keys, and a current of heat swirled in her belly. Those fingers had touched her so expertly, had drawn such need and passion from her that thinking of it now made her wet. She wanted him again, in spite of everything.
He must have sensed something, because he looked up at that moment, his gaze turning swiftly to capture hers. She didn’t bother to pretend she hadn’t been staring. Her heart skipped a beat. Her nipples began to tighten against the cashmere of her sweater dress.
His gaze slid down, then back up again, his eyes glittering with heat and need that mirrored her own. A thrill shot through her. He still wanted her. Maybe one night hadn’t been enough.
It was impossible, though. There was a bed on this plane, but there was no way they could retreat to it. Between her staff, his team and the flight crew, there was no hope of privacy.
And once they reached Aliz, who knew what would happen?
He snapped his computer closed and pushed up from his seat. Then he was sinking into the seat beside hers, and her skin was prickling with his nearness. Her blood was singing with heat and need.
She picked up the vodka cocktail the flight attendant had brought to her—she’d hoped it would calm her nerves—and took a small sip. The vodka wasn’t strong, but it kicked back nevertheless, burning her throat in a good way.
“Thank you,” she said.
“You’ve already thanked me at least fifty times,” he replied, his voice low and containing an edge she didn’t quite recognize. “I couldn’t let you go alone. They would devour you in a matter of minutes.”
She met his gaze, her heart turning over at the intense look in those golden eyes. “Maybe I was thanking you for last night.”
He didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Just when I think you can’t get to me,” he said, shaking his head.
“I get to you?” For some reason, that made her stomach leap.
“In the worst way,” he replied seriously.
Veronica frowned. “I’m not sure that’s very flattering.”
He picked up her hand where it rested on her lap, threaded his fingers through hers. Her pulse shot into overdrive. Her core throbbed with need for him, her body tightening painfully. When he lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed them, a shiver rocketed through her.
“Raj …”
“I want to spread you out on silken sheets, Veronica,” he said, his voice pitched for her ears alone. “I want to lick you everywhere, kiss you, thrust into your body.”
She closed her eyes. “I can’t take this. Don’t talk to me like this.”
“I want to take you hard, soft, slow, fast. I want to take you often. And I want you to wear those damn thigh-high boots you’ve got on while I do it.”
Veronica was drowning in need and frustration. “Stop,” she choked out. A few rows away, Martine looked up at Veronica’s cry, met her gaze. Just as quickly she turned away again, a red flush spreading across her cheeks.
Veronica wanted to tell Martine it was okay, but she couldn’t speak. Because at the moment Raj drew one of her fingers into his mouth, sucked it in and out so slowly as fingers of fire raced along her nerve endings. She bit her lip to stop a moan. He kissed her palm, then leaned forward and took her mouth in a hard, sensual kiss.
She didn’t care who saw them. She cupped his jaw, kissed him back with all the passion and fire he aroused in her. If they were alone, she’d have him undressed and inside her before the next few moments passed.
“Now what do you think?” he whispered in her ear. “Flattered or not?”
“Yes,” she breathed, heart racing. Martine was engrossed in a magazine now, and Veronica took another sip of her cocktail while Raj leaned back on the seat and shot her the most sexy grin imaginable.
“I’m hard for you,” he said. “Another minute of that and I’d be lifting that Barbie-doll-pink dress and to hell with everyone else.”
“Another minute of that and I’d let you,” she replied. And then she laughed. “Barbie-doll pink? How do you know that, Raj?”
“How else? Barbie was my favorite doll,” he said—and then he winked as she gaped at him.
“You say things like that just to make me laugh.”
He shrugged. “Sometimes.” Then he picked up her hand again, threaded their fingers together. “My mom moved us around a lot when I was growing up. One of the things I remember, when I was about eight I think, was this little girl in my class. She was blonde, like you, and she had these enormous pigtails. She was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen, and she carried a pink backpack with a Barbie face on it.”
“You must have liked her.”
“I did.”
She thought of him as a love-struck little boy and smiled. “So what happened? Did you write one of those notes to her where you asked her to circle ‘yes’ or ‘no’?” she teased.
“No. But she did invite me to her birthday party. I remember the invitation was pink, with Barbie dolls on it.”
“Was the party pink-themed, too?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I never got to go. We moved again.”
She imagined the disappointment he must have felt when he couldn’t
