Rich (Benson Security #5) - Janet Elizabeth Henderson Page 0,82
the air before sitting up, her eyes still closed and the sheet pooling at her hips.
“Gimme,” she ordered.
He placed the drink in her hands and stroked her hair. “You’ve got fifteen minutes to get upstairs, or I’m bringing the team down here, and we’ll sit on your bed to debrief.”
Her eyes opened a crack. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
She cocked her head. “Now that we’re in a relationship,” she said, using the same tone that she’d use to describe inferior knock-off designer wear, “you’d think you would be nicer.”
“Funny that,” he said as he strode to the door. “Fifteen minutes.”
She opened her mouth, no doubt to dump his sorry ass.
“Nuh-uh,” Harvard said. “We talked about this. No backing out just because you woke up in a bad mood.”
When her answer was a menacing growl, Harvard left her to it, wondering if he should have brought the whole coffee pot downstairs with him instead of just one mug.
It took Rachel close to forty-five minutes to get ready, and that was rushing it for her. She dressed for the day in white wide-legged trousers with a faint cream pinstripe, a white cashmere boatneck sweater, and four-inch pumps in cream. Her hair fell in a sleek waterfall over her shoulders, and she’d painted her lips a dark red. Around her throat, she wore her grandmother’s locket, and on her wrist, a thick platinum bracelet and on her hand was the engagement ring Harvard had given her.
Every time she slipped on the ring, she felt a warming well inside her. It was exactly the type of ring she’d have chosen for herself, and strangely, wearing it made her feel like Harvard was standing right beside her, even when he wasn’t. She shook off the strange bout of sentimentality; obviously circumstances were affecting her in ways she hadn’t imagined. And she wasn’t sure what to think or do about it.
With a toss of her hair, she swept out of her bedroom, ready to face whatever came her way.
“That’s what you wear on the weekend?” Ryan said as she sailed into the kitchen.
The team, plus Harry—who looked even more disheveled than usual—were seated around her dining table. Although she kept her eyes from Harvard, the glance she stole told her that he was looking at her with open affection, laced with a heavy dose of amusement. The man obviously didn’t know what circumspect meant. Which made her wonder what exactly they taught at the famous MIT.
“You look like you’re auditioning for Christmas angel in the school play,” Ryan said.
Rachel took in his rumpled T-shirt, with its faded print promoting something she’d never heard of, and his faded jeans. “Unlike you, I don’t roll out of bed and put on the first thing I find.” She pointed at his shirt. “And that isn’t how you spell deaf or leopard.”
“I can’t even,” Ryan said, shaking his head. “It’s like you live on a different planet.”
“Yes. One with clean clothes and decent manners. Now, for the love of Prada, use a napkin. You’re getting crumbs everywhere.”
Without taking his eyes from her, he lifted a large Danish pastry from his over-full plate and took a bite.
“And that there”—she pointed at him—“is exactly why you can’t keep a girlfriend.”
Harvard held up his hands. “Can we get on with this, or do I have to give you two a time-out?”
“She started it,” Ryan said with a grin.
Rachel just filled a mug with coffee, helped herself to one Danish pastry, and headed toward a seat far away from Harvard.
His eyes sparkling, he stood up and took the plate from her hand. “Let me help you.” He put it on the table beside his seat and pulled out a chair for her.
Elle and Ryan seemed to hold their breaths as they waited for her to eviscerate Harvard. But she had no intention of doing the expected. Instead, she said thank you and took the seat. She’d deal with him later.
As he settled beside her, Harvard looked over at Harry. “We’re ready when you are.”
When he didn’t respond, Elle leaned over and poked his arm. “We’re waiting,” she said.
“Oh, okay.” Harry looked around the table, and you could tell the exact second when the people present came into focus for him. He gave that goofy grin of his before sobering. “I think I know who stole the drug they used on Rachel.”
“So do I,” Elle said.
Harry’s head almost spun off his shoulders as he turned to her. “How?”
“Harvard told me you’d found corrupted data during a set