Free Captive but Forbidden by Lynn Raye Harris Page B

the sidewalk. Aching. Wanting. Cursing himself.
    Veronica woke up in the night, gasping for breath, the tail of some dream fading away. The air was dry, so dry, and her throat hurt. She didn’t care how cold it was, she needed to open a window, needed that fresh bite of outside air to cleanse her. She stumbled to the window and found the mechanism—then she was cranking the window up and the air rushing in made her gasp again.
    But it felt good. Clean.
    She stood at the sill, shivering, but feeling refreshed nonetheless. She couldn’t even remember the dream now.
    The door to her bedroom burst open, a bright light searing into her brain. It happened so fast she wasn’t able to let out even a squeak of surprise. The light winked out again and a voice asked, “What in the hell are you doing?”
    Raj’s voice. Relief slid through her, made her weak. If he’d been out to harm her, as he’d pointed out so recently, no one could have stopped him.
    “What does it look like I’m doing?” she said.
    Raj crossed the room so silently that when he arrived at her side, she jumped. Then he was cranking the window closed again.
    “Hey,” she said. “I want it open.”
    “Too bad,” he replied. “It’s not safe.”
    She could only blink into the blackness. But then light flooded the room as he snapped on her bedside lamp. The bright spots left from the light he’d shined when he’d first entered still marched across her vision. Big green splotches that made him indistinct if she looked directly at him. She turned her head, peered at him sideways.
    He loomed, big and solid and oh, so unapproachable. He was completely different than he’d been earlier. He’d charmed her, held her, soothed her. Kissed her.
    And now he was back to treating her as if she was something unappealing that he’d found on the bottom of his shoe.
    Her temper sparked. “Do you mean to tell me that it’s not safe if I open the window a crack on the tenth floor of a hotel? For a few minutes?”
    “Precisely.”
    She popped her hands onto her hips. “What kind of world do you live in, Raj? Because I’m not sure I want to be a part of it.”
    “You already are,” he said. For the first time, she noticed that what she’d always assumed to be a mild British accent had taken on a distinctly American twist. “It’s your world, not mine. You entered it when you ran for president. You bought it when you got elected.”
    What had gotten into him? Before she could dwell on it, something else occurred to her. “How did you know the window was open?”
    “A small sensor,” he said matter-of-factly.
    A sensor. He’d put sensors in her room. She was familiar with that tactic. She’d been thinking of him when she’d dressed with such care tonight, and he’d been busy thinking of how to control her.
    Her blood ran cold. She’d snuck out of her father’s house once, when she was sixteen. He’d been so furious once he’d caught her that he’d had the place wired like a military compound.
    Oh, yes, she knew about sensors.
    Veronica worked hard to control her temper. What had happened to her as a teenager had nothing to do with now. She was someone who needed protecting, someone with big responsibilities. Raj had only been doing what she’d agreed to let him do.
    “You could have told me,” she said tightly. “I wouldn’t have opened the window if I’d known.”
    His look was dark. “Most people don’t open the window at 3:00 a.m. in the middle of winter.”
    “I won’t be caged in,” she said, panic rising in her throat as her insides clenched in fear. “I won’t be controlled.”
    “Then you should have considered another career path,” he said coldly.
    She hugged her arms around her body. Her vision was still splotchy, but she could see that Raj was still in his tux. Or, partially in his tux. The jacket and tie were missing, and the top couple of studs were gone. His sleeves were rolled partway up his forearms. She realized that