“Dear Lord, will you take a look at what that woman is wearing? Do you think someone should tell her she doesn’t have the legs for it?” Lucas said, leaning in close to Raj’s ear.
Raj stepped back from Lucas and shook his head. What the hell had he ever seen in the obnoxious Brit in the first place? He couldn’t understand it. They had never had what Raj would call a relationship, but he felt utterly disgusted that he had ever taken the man to his bed. Had he really been that desperate to get off that he could have overlooked the fact that Lucas was a malicious bastard?
A false malicious bastard at that.
If it had been up to Raj, Lucas wouldn’t have been invited at all, but Rahul had the final say on guests. Lucas was a shareholder in one of the major studios in Bollywood and Rahul had insisted that he be put on the guest list. Raj was about to give Lucas a piece of his mind when Rahul caught his attention from the other side of the room. He’d never been more grateful to his agent for the interruption.
“Lucas, if you’ll excuse me, I do believe I’m being summoned.”
Lucas chuckled. “Off to work, dear boy. I’m sure I’ll find some way to amuse myself…or someone.”
Lucas winked and made a beeline for the makeshift champagne bar that had been set up in the far corner of the room. Raj was fairly sure it was the cute waiter who was serving the drinks that Lucas was interested in, not the drinks themselves.
The poor man wouldn’t know what hit him.
Raj grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and snaked through the crowded room, smiling and greeting everyone in his path. By the time he was done acknowledging his guests, ten minutes had passed before he made it to his agent’s side.
“Ah, Raj, there’s someone I’d like to introduce you to,” Rahul said, turning to the man on his left. “This is Sanjay Patel—he’s a reporter with the Mumbai Herald. Sanjay, this is Rajkumar Khan.”
Raj stared at the man for a moment, temporarily speechless with astonishment. Why the hell had Rahul invited a member of the press? Raj gritted his teeth and forced a pleasant smile on his face.
Shouldn’t the guy be outside with the rest of the bottom feeders?
“Mr. Patel,” Raj managed to choke out. He couldn’t quite bring himself to tell the man that it was a pleasure to meet him.
Sanjay was a short man, barely reaching Raj’s shoulders. He was thinning on top and his white dress shirt was stretched to the point of bursting over his middle-aged paunch. He reached out a sweaty palm and enthusiastically shook Raj’s hand, grinning manically.
“Mr. Khan, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m a big fan of your work.”
“Thank you, that’s good of you to say.”
When Sanjay turned to grab a drink from one of the waiters, Raj glared at Rahul, his dislike for the man increasing tenfold with this new development. Couldn’t Raj even relax in his own home now without the wolves circling, watching his every move?
What the hell had his agent been thinking? Rahul ignored his glower and turned to Sanjay, a genial smile on his face.
“Sanjay and I were just discussing your nomination,” Rahul stated. “He agrees that the IIFA for Best Actor is yours this year.”
Sanjay nodded excitedly. “Absolutely. It would be a crime if you didn’t win.”
“Well, there are a lot of talented actors nominated, many of whom have far more experience in the business than I. So I won’t be too disheartened if I don’t win.”
“I suppose there’ll always be next year,” Sanjay shrugged.
“Quite.”
Howls of laughter caught their attention and when Raj turned, he saw that the patio doors had been thrown open and many of the guests had spilled out into the garden, heading toward the pool. Raj groaned. At the last party he’d thrown, some of the guests had ended up in the pool, fully clothed. He hoped that wasn’t where this night was headed.
Why did people always get crazy when they got a drop of alcohol inside them?
Sanjay’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head when a waiter stopped beside them, holding out a tray full of pastries for them to choose from. In his rush to grab a handful of snacks, Sanjay bumped into Raj’s arm, just as he was lifting it to take a drink, spilling the entire contents of the glass down the front of Raj’s shirt.
Perfect.
It was his favorite shirt.
Sanjay’s eyes widened and he dropped the pastries as though they’d burned him.
“Oh, how stupid of me!” He slapped a hand to his forehead. “Here, let me.”
Before Raj could object, Sanjay had whipped out a handkerchief from God only knows where and was rubbing at the wet patch on his chest. He stared at the man open-mouthed before his brain kicked into gear and he removed the man’s hand.
“That’s quite all right. No harm done. I can put on another shirt.”
“But you lost your drink! Let me get you another.”
Seriously?
The guy was worried that he’d spilt his drink? Raj watched in bewilderment as Sanjay plucked the empty flute out of his hand and strode across the room to get the attention of a waiter.
Raj saw his chance.
“What the hell is he doing here?” he hissed, rounding on Rahul. “I thought we agreed no press inside the house.”
“There’s a very good reason for his presence. We’ll talk about it later… Shh, he’s coming back.”
The next moment a glass was thrust into his hand. Raj looked at the glass then down to his soaking wet shirt.
“Uh, thanks, but I really should go and change. I’ll take this with me.” Raj took a sip of champagne then held the glass up in a toast. “If you’ll excuse me.”
“Of course,” Rahul said. “We can continue our conversation when you get back.”
Raj smiled and nodded. “Of course.”
He made his way out into the hall and was halfway up the stairs before he finally let the groan escape from his chest.
Could the night get any worse?
First he had to put up with Lucas’s unwanted company…now Sanjay’s?
How much longer would he have to deal with this crap?
Chapter Twenty
The night was going from bad to worse.
Brent rubbed his temples, muttering obscenities as he strode up the drive toward the house. The goddamn press on the street had tried on more than one occasion to get inside when the gate had opened for the cars dropping off guests. If he’d told them once, he’d told them a dozen times that if they came on to the property again he’d have them arrested for trespassing, but did they listen?
“Mr. Hawthorne, can I talk to you for a minute?”
Christ, what now?
Brent ran up the steps to the porch and greeted his employee a little more sternly than he would have liked.
“What is it, Jaideep?”
“Sir, there’s seems to be a problem in the house.”
Brent frowned. “What do you mean? What sort of problem?”
“The party has spilled out into the garden and it’s getting out of hand, sir. A few people have had too much to drink and the guards are worried they might end up in the pool.”
For fuck’s sake.
“Where’s Raj?”
“He was talking to his agent and another man in the reception room last time I saw him.”
“What do you mean the last time you saw him? I told you to keep an eye on him while I was outside the house. Who’s watching him now?”
“Uh…”
“Jesus Christ, did you leave him alone in there? What the hell am I paying you for?”
“There are other bodyguards in there, sir. I thought you’d want to know about the situation in the garden.”
“You’re not paid to think. You’re paid to guard Rajkumar at all times and you are to never leave him alone.
“You could have sent one of the waiting staff to tell me. The men inside are bodyguards of guests. They have their own charges to watch. You’ve already had one warn
ing, Jaideep.
“If you pull anything like this again, you won’t get another chance, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. Of course.”
Brent nodded and marched into the house to find Raj.
He couldn’t believe Jaideep had been so stupid as to leave Raj unguarded. He knew what sort of threat the actor was under. They still had no idea who had been stalking Raj and leaving him the blackmail notes. The culprit could very well be at the party, waiting to make a move.
God damn it.
Brent quickened his pace as he strode into the large reception room in search of his quarry.
Chapter Twenty One
Raj took another sip of champagne then placed the flute on his nightstand, in no rush to get back to the party.
He pulled his shirt free from his pants, undid the buttons and slipped the delicate silk off his shoulders. It was most likely ruined. He’d had drinks spilled on silk before and the stains had never come out. He sighed loudly and tossed the shirt into the small trash can in the corner of the room.
He’d begun browsing through his shirts in his closet when there was a quiet knock on his bedroom door. Raj’s heart sped up.
Brent had come to him.
Raj tried to swallow down his sudden burst of excitement. Brent had made his feelings about their relationship perfectly clear. Surely there was no way he would come to Raj’s bedroom again, maybe ever unless he had something to tell him regarding his security.
It was probably just Aakash.
His houseboy was a good worker but he rarely used his own initiative, needing Raj’s approval before he did anything around the house. Raj grabbed the first shirt that came to hand and walked out of his closet.
“Come in,” he called out.
The door opened and Lucas slipped into the room. He closed it behind him and leant back against it, a rakish smile playing on his lips.
Great, just great.
“What are you doing here?” Raj asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
Lucas’s smile widened. He pushed away from the door then crossed the room, swaying his hips in what Raj could only assume was meant to be a seductive manner.
“I saw what happened at the party.”
Raj let out a frustrated breath. “And?”
Lucas sat down on the bed then leant back on his elbows.
“I thought I’d come to see if you needed a hand getting out of those wet clothes, but I see I’m too late.”
Raj rolled his eyes.
He was in no mood for Lucas’ss games. “As you can see, I’m perfectly able to find my own shirt, and I can dress myself, too, thank you very much.”
Lucas pushed out his bottom lip.
The pout reminded Raj of his six-year-old nephew…only he had a feeling his nephew was the more mature of the two.
“You’re no fun anymore,” Lucas drawled. “You don’t want to play with me.”
What the hell?
“Are you drunk?” Raj asked.
Lucas cast a lustful gaze over Raj’s chest before looking up to meet Raj’s gaze. “Isn’t that what parties are for—drinking and having fun?”
Raj didn’t like the way Lucas was looking at him. It made him feel exposed, like he was nothing but a piece of meat, so he slipped his arms into the shirt he held in his hand and covered his chest.
“What happened with that waiter I saw you chatting with?” Raj asked, trying to get Lucas’s attention off him.
It didn’t work.
“I got bored. He was mildly amusing for all of five minutes, but he’s not in your league.”
Neither are you, Raj wanted to say, but he simply did up the buttons on his shirt before reaching for his champagne flute.
“Come on, we’d better get back to the party.”
Lucas got up and blocked Raj’s path to the bedroom door, getting up close and way too much into Raj’s personal space. His breath reeked of alcohol. Raj had to turn his head to the side to avoid the fumes.
“Why don’t we have a little private party of our own?”
Lucas grabbed the flute out of Raj’s hand and downed the contents in one, before placing it on the nightstand.
Raj ground his teeth together in frustration. “It’s not going to happen. Get out of the way. I have to get back to the party.”
“Come on now, let’s play.” Lucas ran his hand up Raj’s arm then squeezed his biceps.
Raj batted the hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
Lucas’s gaze turned so cold it made Raj shiver despite the stifling heat in the room.
“Why the hell not?” he fumed. “I know it’s been a while since we fooled around, but do you think you’re too good for me now that you’re such a big star?
“Is that it? Now that you’ve got your IIFA nomination you think you’re better than me?”
Raj could see the fury rising in Lucas’s eyes.
The man looked meaner than ever. He grabbed hold of Raj’s arms, his fingers digging in bruisingly. If Raj didn’t play this the right way, the situation was going to get out of hand.
“Come on, Lucas, you’re drunk. Why don’t we discuss this tomorrow when you’ve sobered up?”
“I am not drunk!” Lucas roared. “And I say we discuss this right now!”
Before Raj could do anything to prevent it, Lucas used one hand to grasp the hair on the back of his head and kissed him, hard. Raj placed his hands on Lucas’s chest and shoved but the man had such a tight grip on him that his efforts were in vain.
Their teeth clashed together, and Raj jumped as a sharp pain shot through his lip and the tangy, metallic taste of his own blood entered his mouth. Then he was falling backwards onto the bed, Lucas’s heavy body coming down on top of him and pinning him to the mattress.
Chapter Twenty Two
Brent strode into the reception room, searching the sea of faces for Raj.
He didn’t appear to be anywhere in the room, so Brent made his way through the open patio doors and out into the garden. Jaideep had been right. The party did look as though it was getting out of hand. People were drunk, overly so, their voices loud and carrying over the din of the music that blasted out of the speakers that surrounded the open space.
Brent circled the pool, looking over the crowd, but Raj was nowhere in sight.
Fuck.
Brent couldn’t see Rahul anywhere in the pool area, either.
Where the hell were they?
Brent doubled back into the reception room and out into the hall. He crossed the space and headed towards the office that Rahul often used when he was at the house. As he neared, his muscles tightened and his stomach lurched violently. There was a letter pinned to the door. He quickened his pace and grabbed the letter, before turning to study the area. At present there was no one in the hall.
He pushed open the office door to find the room empty.
What the hell?
As he was studying the envelope, the kitchen door swung open and Raj’s houseboy stepped out into the hall.
“Aakash, have you seen Raj or Rahul anywhere?”
The young man shook his head. “No, sir.”
“Have you seen anyone hanging around the office?”
Another shake. “No, I’ve been in the kitchen, helping the chef. Is everything okay?”
Brent shook his head. “No, everything is far from okay.”
With shaking hands, Brent ripped open the envelope and pulled the letter free.
The handwriting was the same as the previous letters, as was the paper that had been used. He unfolded the page and scanned the contents of the note. The letter didn’t say anything new. It contained the same bitter diatribe about how Raj was lying to his fans, and that they deserved to know the truth about his sexuality.
It was the last two sentences, however, that made Brent’s hair bristle and his forehead break out into a sweat.
‘Nice party you have here tonight, although if I were you I’d watch your back.
They say there’s safety in numbers but you won’t always be surrounded by people.’
Brent clenched his fists at his side, screwing the paper into a ball. “Fucker!” he shouted.
“Will you watch your language? There are guests present. Do we need to have a talk about professionalism?”
Brent turned. Rahul was purposefully striding toward him from the direction of the front door. Rage unlike anything he’d known, bubbled up inside Brent. He felt like a caged animal, desperate to be set free.
He lost it.
“Where is he?” he demanded, grabbing hold of Rahul’s shirt and shaking him roughly. “Where’s Raj?”
“Get your hands off me,” Rahul said. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Don’t fuck with me, Rahul, there was another letter. Now I’ll ask you again, where is he?”
Confusion clouded Rahul’s eyes. “Another letter? What do you mean? Here? Inside the house?”
Brent felt like screaming in frustration.
He twisted Rahul’s shirt in his hand and pulled him closer until they were practically nose to nose.
“Answer the damn question. Where is he?”
Rahul looked fearful for a moment but he recovered quickly. “He went to his bedroom to change his s—”
Brent didn’t wait for the rest of the sentence.
He let go of Rahul and ran for the stairs, climbing them two at a time. He was dimly aware of Rahul following closely behind. He sprinted down the long hallway to Raj’s bedroom and stopped just outside the door.
He heard voices inside.
Shit.
Doubt started to creep into his mind. Maybe he’d made a mistake. What if Raj wasn’t in trouble at all? What if he were doing something inside his room that Brent didn’t want to see? He didn’t think he could stomach seeing Raj being intimate with another man.
Rahul finally caught up with him in the hall.
“What the hell is going on?” he questioned when he caught his breath.
Brent was about to reply when he heard a shout from inside the room.
Bollywood Bodyguard Page 9