Rich (Benson Security #5) - Janet Elizabeth Henderson Page 0,49

business as usual.

“The mission objective has changed,” Ryan stated harshly. For once, he wasn’t eating, even though there was a plate full of Chinese food in front of him. “I don’t give a damn about the stolen information; I want the people who did this.” He pointed at the photos, which were lying facedown on the table beside Harvard.

“As much as I appreciate the sentiment”—Rachel poked at the egg fried rice on her plate as though it had come from another planet, and she wasn’t quite sure what to make of it—“we’ve been hired to do a job. And, I have no idea who my attackers are. All I have are those two photos, and there’s nothing in them that even hints at my attackers’ identities.”

Pushing away her plate, she leaned into Harvard’s side and rested her head on his shoulder. “Be a darling and make me something to eat that’s actually edible.”

Harvard could practically hear Ryan’s and Elle’s jaws drop, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was that Rachel had turned to him. And sure, she was manipulating him, but considering what she’d revealed, he’d give her a pass for the evening.

“There’s still some pasta left over from yesterday. You want me to heat it?”

“Yes, please.” She moved away again and gazed at him expectantly.

Obviously, he wasn’t moving fast enough for her.

With a smile, he got up out of his chair and headed for the kitchen.

“No, no, no, no,” Elle said. “This can’t be happening. You two are far too comfortable with each other.” She pointed a finger at Rachel. “You touched him. You never touch anyone.”

“She touches me all the time,” Ryan complained.

Elle shot him a look of disgust. “She smacks you; she doesn’t touch you. But she’s touching Harvard, and I don’t like what I’m seeing. You’d better not have lost the bet for me, Rachel Ford-Talbot. I will hack your life and give you online herpes if you have.”

“The bet?” Ryan almost choked. “You’re worried about the bet after everything we found out tonight? The bet’s off. We can’t bloody wager on whether they sleep together after this. After finding out that Rachel was… No.” He shook his head. “I’m dissolving the betting pool and taking back my money. I don’t want a payout based on Rachel having sex with Harvard. No. Just no.”

“What?” Rachel lifted an imperious eyebrow at Ryan. “You think Harvard won’t desire me now that he’s seen those photos?”

“What? No!” Ryan’s head turned a vicious shade of red. “It’s just wrong. I feel like my bet is pressurizing you into sleeping with him. I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to be like them.”

Elle paled. “He’s got a point. I’m sorry, Rachel. I meant to lighten the mood a little. If that’s even possible.”

“It isn’t possible,” Ryan said darkly. “There’s no getting away from the fact she was—” He slammed his mouth shut and shook his head.

“Raped?” Rachel asked with a casual air. “Assaulted? Abused? Victimized? Brutalized?”

“Stop, please.” Ryan sounded like he was the one in agony.

“Why?” Rachel pinned him with her dark eyes. “Why should I hide from the words? Why should I be ashamed of saying them aloud? Would a person who’d been stabbed or robbed or shot have the same problem? No. It’s only the victims of sexual assault who’re expected to carry the shame for their attackers.” She reached for her wine glass, noticed it was empty, and got up from the table to fetch the bottle off the counter.

“But he’s right,” Elle said. “This changes everything. Before, it was a bit of fun to bet about the sexual tension between you two. Now it feels like we’re turning sex into something disposable, just like those guys did.”

“That wasn’t sex.” Harvard took the pasta out of the microwave. “Rape isn’t sex. Don’t ever confuse the two.”

“Honestly,” Rachel said. “I don’t care if the silly bet stands or not. I plan on doing whatever the hell I please, regardless. It didn’t offend or traumatize me if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“How couldn’t it have?” Ryan asked, looking pained. “The memories it must bring back. The way it must have affected how you see sex…” He shook his head.

“Ryan,” Rachel said as she returned to her seat, “there is absolutely no way I’m ever going to discuss my sex life with you. I have a therapist. She’s infinitely more qualified than you are to deal with anything I have to tell her, and much more pleasant to