Rich (Benson Security #5) - Janet Elizabeth Henderson Page 0,17
a career outside of TayFor. She’d been born with a cold edge and a knack for biting sarcasm that her parents and brothers didn’t have. Although she suspected her grandmother’s nature was quite similar to her own. The main difference between them was that Gran knew how to play nice in public, and Rachel couldn’t be bothered.
“Rachel,” he purred her name, making her insides melt. “There’s no one like you.”
“True.”
“They care about you deeply.”
Was he bewildered? That was just insulting. “Of course they do.”
“No, I don’t mean because they’re your family and they have no choice. I mean, they genuinely adore you for being you.”
“And you can’t understand that.” She wasn’t offended; most people couldn’t.
“No,” he said softly. “I understand it all too well.”
She wasn’t going to touch that statement with a ten-foot pole. Or wonder why his words caused a strange warmth to surge through her.
Driving onto Albert Bridge, they passed Battersea Park, its vast expanse a dark void in an otherwise glimmering city. Beneath them, the city lights bounced off the choppy waters of the Thames, and she caught a glimpse of a party on the deck of a houseboat.
“Did your super-spy senses tell you who’s stealing from TayFor?” Rachel asked as they waited for the lights to turn green on the Chelsea side of the bridge.
“It doesn’t quite work like that, but I did pick up a few interesting things. Your cousin Marcus likes his booze, which makes me wonder what kind of control he has in other areas of his life. Meanwhile, Preston’s chomping at the bit to helm TayFor. And I suspect Samantha would have tried to get me into bed if she’d had the opportunity.”
“Sounds about right.”
They drove through Chelsea, past the townhouse her parents used when they were in the city, and into Westminster, where Rachel turned into the street that housed Benson Security. The converted Victorian terrace house had a couple of apartments above the offices that staff used when needed. Harvard was currently housed in one of them, as he hadn’t found his own place yet. It seemed to Rachel that he hadn’t made much effort to either.
“You aren’t bothered that your cousin tried to seduce your fiancé?”
“I would be if you really were my fiancé.”
“Rachel.” The way he said her name was like a caress, even when it was tinged with long suffering. “You have to act like I am your fiancé, and if your cousin comes on to me, you need to tell her to back off. People are already suspicious about our relationship because you act like you’d rather be anywhere than by my side. You need to get into the role. If I was your fiancé, what would you have done to Samantha?”
“I would have calmly explained that you’re already taken.”
“Rachel…”
“Fine, and then I would have signed her up for a week at a clinic for sex addicts but told her I was sending her to a spa—my treat.”
His laughter felt like bubbles on her skin.
“That’s my girl,” he said as she parked in front of the office.
“I’m not your girl. I’m not a girl at all. I’m a full-grown woman who’s playing pretend with her work colleague.” She held his gaze. “Don’t get confused about what’s happening here.”
“I wouldn’t dare.” He threw the door open, climbed out and said, “Back in a minute,” before he rounded the car.
She opened her window. “Wait,” she called after him. “Why are you coming back?”
He seemed confused by the question. “I’m picking up my bag, and then I’m moving in with you for the duration.”
A cold resolve took root at his words. “Oh, I don’t think so.”
“I’m your fiancé. We need to get to know each other. We need to get comfortable being around each other. The only way to do that is to spend time together. What if someone in your family drops by? They’re gonna think it’s pretty damn weird that I live here. We already gave the impression I have to be with you twenty-four seven. I can’t do that from here.” He pointed to the building behind him.
Rachel didn’t bother arguing with him. It wasn’t happening, and that was that. Instead, she closed the window, put the car in gear, and drove away. In her rearview mirror, she saw him pull his phone out of his pocket. A few seconds later, her iPhone buzzed from its spot attached to the dash.
While stopped at a red light, she read his message: You get a reprieve until Monday