Captive but Forbidden Read Online Free Page A

them … something that would combust if she let it. Part of her desperately wanted to let it …
    “Yes, you do,” he said softly. His tone was that of a lover.
    Did he feel it, too?
    “Maybe …” she breathed.
    But his next words shattered that illusion.
    “Your presidency is too new, Aliz is in turmoil and you aren’t safe.”
    Every word was like a blow. Embarrassment flooded her in bright, white-hot waves. She’d been preoccupied with the way he made her feel when he touched her, and he was nothing but business. Damn him for making her forget, even for a moment.
    “Those things are none of your concern,” she said evenly, thankful he couldn’t see her flushed face. Thankful there was no light to give her away. “Nothing you can do will fix it overnight.”
    “This isn’t a game, Veronica. You can’t quit this party when it no longer amuses you.” Raj heard her draw in a breath. He’d probably insulted her, but he didn’t give a damn.
    Because Veronica St. Germaine was precisely the sort of woman he had no sympathy for.
    She was a slave to her passions, her wants, her desires. She was the worst kind of person to be entrusted with the welfare of a puppy, let alone a nation—yet here she was.
    And here he was, damn Brady to hell. Raj hadn’t wanted to do this job, but Brady had begged him.
    For old time’s sake. And since Raj owed at least a measure of his success to Brady’s faith in him whenhe’d been fresh out of the military and working his first security job so many years ago, he couldn’t say no.
    So now he was sitting in the dark with a too-sexy, spoiled society princess and arguing over whether or not she needed his help.
    He should just kiss her and put the matter to rest. He wasn’t unaware of her response to him. He also wasn’t unaware of her reputation as a woman who pursued her appetites relentlessly, be they clothes, shoes, fast cars or men.
    And at least one part of his anatomy didn’t mind the prospect of being an object of her desire.
    Not that he would allow himself to go down that road.
    It’d been a long time since he’d personally guarded anyone, but he had never allowed himself to get involved with a client. It angered him immensely that he’d nearly violated that creed with her.
    He didn’t know why he’d allowed himself to succumb to the temptation to stroke his fingers along the creamy skin of her exposed back. She was not the kind of woman he would ever get involved with. It wasn’t that she wasn’t desirable—she definitely was—but she was self-centered and destructive. Poisonous.
    “I know this isn’t a game!” she barked. “Do you really think I don’t?”
    He’d heard those words before. Or ones very like them anyway. He knew all about people who had no control over their impulses. People who claimed to want to conquer their addictions, but inevitably slid back into them when life got too hard or too boring or too hopeless.
    He had no sympathy for her. She’d taken on this task, and she deserved no pity if it was turning out tobe too difficult. After all, her people would get none if she faltered. “It’s a big responsibility you’ve accepted. Not quite your usual thing, is it?”
    He could feel the fury rolling from her in waves.
    “You know nothing about me, Mr. Vala. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your pop psychology to yourself.”
    She was cool, this woman. And blazing hot on the inside. He was beginning to understand the public fascination with her.
    He’d made sure to have his people prepare a dossier on her before he’d ever come to the hotel tonight. He hadn’t read the entire thing during the limo ride over, but he’d skimmed enough to get an idea.
    A dilettante in the worlds of fashion, music and television, she’d designed a line of clothing, recorded a hit album and had her own late-night talk show for a brief time in America.
    She’d been a darling of the tabloids. Her face and figure were splashed on more magazine covers