Rich (Benson Security #5) - Janet Elizabeth Henderson Page 0,42

you didn’t win the trust of an alpha female overnight. That took time, patience, and an ego made of Teflon.

This wasn’t like the nightclub experiences Rachel remembered from her youth. Those dark, crowded dance floors where you either moved around beside someone but never touched or fought off some guy who wanted to rub himself against you. This was different. More intimate. And…safer.

While she couldn’t explain it, she could feel the difference. It was as though Harvard created a little box with his arms, defining how far she could move from him. It was a box that no one else was allowed to enter, one meant for them alone. A place where she could relax and let herself go. Where she was protected. Where she was secure.

She shook her head at the thoughts as her body moved to the rhythm of the music. No one looked at her; they were all lost in their own little worlds. No one knew who she was or expected anything from her. It was freeing.

And with each step she took, her muscles remembered what it meant to dance, to move in synchronicity with someone else. It wasn’t like ballet, nothing like it, although the movements were familiar. But where ballet was all about distance, comportment, grace, this was about closeness, sensuality, and expression. It was a strange new world. One Rachel found she enjoyed exploring.

As she followed Harvard’s lead on the dance floor, the rest of the world faded to insignificance. There was only the darkness, the music, and the feeling of their bodies as they touched and moved together. For the first time in years, there was peace in her busy mind.

Harvard didn’t push her boundaries, didn’t try to make the experience more intimate than it naturally was. His hands didn’t stray; his touch didn’t linger. And yet, each gentle brush of his skin against hers was a caress that sank straight into the depth of her being.

He did that thing again, where he cradled her against him, her back to his front as they moved. Her hips swayed of their own accord, feeling his strength, his solidity against her, and her eyes drifted closed. In that moment, there was only the man guiding their dance and her own desire to move.

The music changed, and Harvard turned her. “Put your arms around my neck,” he whispered against her ear.

Her arms obeyed before she made the conscious decision to follow his instruction. His hands on her hips, they moved to the new beat, and Harvard’s low voice sang softly to her. Rachel didn’t understand the language, but she understood the feeling behind the words. He was serenading her.

Her breasts flattened against his chest as her hips swayed under his hands. Eyes closed, she pressed her face into his throat, breathing in his ocean scent. He smelled of adventure. Of freedom. Of beautiful, clean waves.

“What does it mean?” she whispered, her voice so low and intimate she barely recognized it.

“It’s a love song,” he murmured. “The singer is desperately in love with his woman, and no one can understand how deep it is. It’s beyond anything ever seen before. It’s eternal. Immortal. That’s what the song’s called: Inmortal,” he finished in Spanish.

“I…like it.”

“I do too.” One of his arms wrapped around her, holding her close.

She didn’t feel vulnerable or exposed; she felt strong and courageous. Because he made it possible for her to feel that way. There was no judgment in anything he did or said, no expectation. Only delight…and promise. As though he knew he was giving her a safe space, somewhere just to be.

“Are you thirsty?” he asked. “Do you want a drink?”

For once, the experience of someone taking care of her didn’t grate. “Let’s keep dancing,” she said as she turned in his arms. She liked having him at her back, resting her head against his shoulder, feeling his arms around her.

“Whatever you want.” He nuzzled her temple.

As the music flowed over and through her, Rachel let herself be transported into an alternate dimension where she didn’t always have to be in control. A place where there was no need to be on her guard or constantly proving herself to people who should have already figured out how capable she was. Here, in this moment, with the music and the man, she could just be Rachel.

And she found she liked it very much.

They danced until close to midnight, stopping to sip water, but not saying very much to each other. Rachel was