Rich (Benson Security #5) - Janet Elizabeth Henderson Page 0,46

Small playful nips with his teeth. The sensual slide of his tongue against hers before the kiss turned languorous, and the world disappeared entirely.

Rachel’s hands stroked up the back of his neck, caressing the bare skin at the base of his skull where hair would normally be. Even that was sexy. She felt his muscles flex as he deepened the kiss. Heard herself whimper with delight as their bodies moved together in a sensual dance. Those strong, capable hands of his traced over her back. And that scent. The one that haunted her in every single room of her house. That scent made her heady with desire.

Slowly, reluctantly, he eased them apart, and Rachel rested her forehead on his chest. His hands flexed on her hips as they stood motionless together.

“You even kiss perfectly,” she accused. “Which means we can never do that again.”

“You wanna tell me why?” Harvard said softly, sounding as distracted as she was.

And because her brain was scrambled and her focus still on the hum of pure ecstasy vibrating through her body, she gave him the truth. “Because you make me feel out of control and exposed.”

He didn’t reply; they just stood there quietly in each other’s arms for a few precious moments.

“Go get changed,” he said, breaking the spell he’d woven around her. “The team will be here soon for our meeting.”

Feeling both reluctance and relief, Rachel stepped away from him to retrieve her handbag. “I’m going to chalk up what just happened to the stress of this investigation,” she said as she headed for the staircase. “Let’s never talk about this again.”

“No, talking definitely isn’t what we need to do,” he said with heavy meaning.

Rachel didn’t answer. All her focus was on walking away without letting him see just how unsteady she was on her feet.

She managed to project an air of cool indifference until her bedroom door closed with Harvard on the other side. Sagging against it, she brushed her fingertips over sensitive lips. Dumb. It had been so dumb to kiss him. And yet, all she wanted was to do it again. But how could she? When each step that took them closer to each other also made her feel more vulnerable. Flattening a hand over her stomach, she fought the anxiety-induced nausea that spiked. One kiss would have to be enough. She couldn’t risk more.

It was time to put that kiss behind her and get on with the rest of her life. Which meant another damn meeting about their elusive thief. But first, she planned to shower, change, and empty her handbag, so it was ready for the morning. She took the bag to her bed and emptied the contents.

And that’s when she found it.

A second photo.

It was in the open-topped pocket on the rear of her bag. Anyone could have slipped it in there at any point during her day.

The photo fell to the silk-covered bedspread. And the shock of seeing it on her bed made her gag. She snatched it up and hastily backed across the room. The photo shaking in her hand, a strange feeling of detachment overtook her as she stared at the image.

It was a younger version of herself with two men she didn’t know, their faces hidden while they did unspeakable things to her body.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she concentrated on steadily breathing in and out until the nausea passed. And then, she turned her attention to the message written in blue ink across the white border at the bottom of the photo.

You have until Friday to get out, or you’ll regret it.

As cold resolve steadied her, Rachel shook her head in denial. No, she wouldn’t be the one to regret her choices. Not this time. No matter what it cost her. No matter what it took. This time, things would be different. Because she wasn’t the same person she’d been when that photo was taken. Now, she was stronger, scarier, and had the resources of Benson Security at her back.

She wasn’t a na?ve university student who trusted too readily. She was a formidable woman who didn’t scare easily. In other words, she was the bitch who was going to take them all down with her.

Chapter Thirteen

Harvard laughed at Ryan and Elle as they bickered over which Chinese dish was best. He wasn’t sure why they were arguing. Or whether Ryan ever ate anything slow enough to register how it tasted in the first place. Hearing a sound behind him, he turned to