Rich: Benson Security 5

by Janet Elizabeth Henderson

  “You couldn’t just say you wanted to spoon?” she complained as she turned. “I know how to spoon.” She’d just never done it.

  She felt his warm body move up behind her, curving around her. “Lift your head,” he said gently. And she did so. Making her wonder if she followed so many of his demands purely because he used that gentle tone. If anyone else told her what to do, she gave them hell, she definitely didn’t comply.

  He slid an arm under her head for her to rest on, and then wrapped his other arm tight around her waist. “This is beginner snuggling. I’ll teach you the more advanced versions another time.”

  “What makes you think there will be another time?”

  “A man can hope.”

  They lay there in silence as Rachel relaxed into his hold. It was familiar to her from dancing together. As her weight sank deeper into the bed, she wondered if she’d ever get his ocean scent out of her sheets. Or her room. It had been the only place in her home that didn’t remind her of Harvard. Now that had changed too.

  Inch by inch, the man was slowly inserting himself into her life, and she wasn’t sure what she thought or felt about it. Because he did it so sweetly, in such an unthreatening manner, that she’d barely noticed it happening.

  The heat of his body along her back made her muscles turn limp in a way that no massage had ever achieved. With his arm around her and his bulk protecting her, she felt as though she were cradled inside a cocoon.

  She felt safe.

  And as her mind drifted, she found thoughts escaping from her lips that she normally wouldn’t allow free. “Years back,” she said quietly, “before you joined Benson Security, we had a case that involved a sex trafficker.”

  He said nothing, but his thumb stroked lazily against her stomach.

  “I used my connections with TayFor to acquire a drug to disable the man so that one of our team could get the information we needed to shut his operation down.” She paused, remembering that time and the complete lack of remorse she’d felt at her actions. “It was the same drug they used on me.”

  They remained silent for a long time before Harvard spoke. “And you think that makes you the same as the guys who attacked you?”

  “Not the same, but it did allow Megan to assault the man in a way that meant he wouldn’t rape anyone else. It’s a fine line, isn’t it? Between what I did and what was done to me.”

  She liked that he took his time to consider his answer before giving it.

  “What I think,” he said at last, “is that it sounds like poetic justice. There are people in this world who don’t play by the rules, but they expect everyone else to, and they use that against them. There has to be someone willing to cross the line and deal with those people.” He nuzzled her temple.

  “I don’t feel bad about what I did,” she whispered, confessing the part that made her worry about herself the most.

  “I’ve done a lot of things that I don’t feel bad about. Things other people would say I should regret.”

  “None of which you can talk about, or you’d have to kill me.”

  “Exactly.” She heard the grin in his reply. “But sometimes, the things I had to do come back to haunt me in my dreams. I feel like I deserve that.”

  Rachel placed her hand over his and wriggled closer. “Thank you,” she whispered before falling asleep.

  Deep in the night, once Rachel was sound asleep, Harvard slipped out of bed and crept to the guest room to place a call.

  “Who the hell is this?” the sleep-roughened voice demanded.

  “This is Harvard,” he said, keeping his voice low so that it didn’t carry back to Rachel and wake her. “From the London office. You just wrote a program for my operation. We need to talk, but not about the TayFor case, about Rachel.”

  “Crap,” Harry Boyle said in his deep highland brogue. “Gimme a minute to get out of the bedroom.”

  There was the sound of muffled conversation and a drowsy female voice asking what was going on, and then Harvard heard a door shut.

  A minute later, Harry came back on the line. “What about Rachel?” he said, sounding wary.

  “She told me about the rape.”

  A long stream of cursing battered Harvard’s ear before Harry let out a heavy sigh. “Does she know you’re talking to me?”

  “It’s three in the morning, what do you think?” For a genius, Harry wasn’t impressing Harvard too much. But then, to give him his due, it was the middle of the night, and not everyone woke up battle-ready like a former spy.

  “Okay, okay,” Harry said. “Let me start some coffee while we talk. What do you know? Bring me up to speed on what she’s said.”

  “I know the basics of the attack ten years ago, that you covered up the aftermath for her, and then tried to hunt down her attackers. She says you hit some dead ends and gave up. My guess is that you only led her to believe you gave up, but you kept on hunting. Probably still are.”

  “Smart man,” Harry muttered. “She wanted to move on, so I stopped telling her what I was doing. To be fair, I never came across enough information to go on anyway.”

  Harvard’s sixth sense tingled. “But you did find something.”

  “Aye.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Keeping one ear open for any sign that Rachel might wake, Harvard asked, “What’d you find out?”

  “About a year before the attack, Rachel was doing some work at TayFor during a break from university.” Harry clunked around doing who knows what while he talked. “You have to understand that back then, Rachel was always thinking about TayFor and spent every free minute working in their offices. She had huge plans for the company and was interested in every tiny detail. It fascinated her.”

  Which made Harvard wonder why her family hadn’t pushed harder to find out why she suddenly changed her career path.

  “Anyway,” Harry continued, “during that particular visit, Rachel came across evidence that two guys were stealing from the company. It was just petty crap, but they’d been getting away with it for a while. They fired the guys but didn’t lay charges because the company didn’t want the public to think they had security issues.” He snorted with clear derision. “That seems to be standard practice at TayFor—cover up or avoid the problems instead of coming clean and explaining things properly to your clients.”

  The hair on Harvard’s arms stood on end. “You think those two guys were the ones who attacked her?”

  “I don’t know. What I do know for certain is that they spent the year before the attack bad-mouthing TayFor, Rachel in particular. But I only know what they did before the attack because they disappeared straight after. As in, completely gone. No online trail. No record of them anywhere. Nothing.”

  “How soon after the attack did they disappear?”

  “Following day.”

  Harvard remained silent for a moment while processing this new information. “That’s a helluva big coincidence,” he said at last.

  “I know. Every few months, I run a search on them, but they still haven’t popped up.”

  “Can you send me all the information you have on these guys?”

  “Sure. I’ll do it as soon as we’re done with this call.”

  “When you were looking for them, did you contain your search to the UK?”

  “They were minimum wagers. I figured they didn’t have the resources or skills to move abroad.”

  Harvard had that sinking feeling in his stomach that he always got when random patterns in a mission started to make sense. “They would if someone paid them.”

  Harry cursed. “Why the hell didn’t I think of that? I’ll extend my search.”

  “I’ll help,” Harvard said. “I have connections you might not have the ability to tap into.”

  “One more thing.” Harry sounded like he was sipping coffee between words. “Not long after the attack, it occurred to me that if the drug they used on Rachel came from TayFor, there might be a record of who took it, or of its thef
t, on the backup server.” He let out a sigh. “I never brought this up with Rachel because she was determined to keep the whole thing a secret from her family, and there was no way I could get access to the server without them knowing. But you could get access now.”

  “If you tell Elle what to look for, she can do it.” Harvard took a deep breath. “You gotta know, Rachel’s been receiving old Polaroids of the attack since she returned to TayFor. Second photo arrived with a warning written on it telling her to leave the company.”

  It took so long for Harry to reply that Harvard began to wonder if the call had disconnected. “Elle isn’t searching those servers,” he eventually said in a tone that was pure steel. “I am. I’ll be on the first flight down tomorrow. But I’ll need a cover story if we’re still flying her assault under the radar.”

  “Elle can—”

  “No,” Harry interrupted. “Rachel’s my best friend. She might not see it like that, but there are days when I wonder if the reason that we’re friends in the first place is because we’re both crap at picking up on social cues. She’s been there for me since we were in uni. I’m coming down to help her with this—whether she wants me there or not.”

  “Okay.” Harvard pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was kinda hoping to keep our conversation quiet. You turning up is gonna blow that right out of the water.”

  “She’d find out anyway. Trust me. In all the years we worked together, I couldn’t get anything past her.”

  “Great. You need to know that she was very specific about keeping the attack quiet right now. She’s waiting to see what information Elle manages to get from the photos.”

  “Aye, that sounds like Rachel. She’s all about controlling everything around her.”

  There was no arguing with that. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Contact Elle if you have any questions about the server setup at TayFor or what she’s doing with the photos.”

  “Will do. And good luck explaining this call to Rachel.”

  “Thanks.” Harvard hung up. He needed all the luck he could get.

  As he sneaked back into bed beside a gently snoring Rachel, he decided the conversation could keep until the morning. Lying on his back, he pulled Rachel closer until she was almost on top of him. With her arm around his waist and her leg over his thigh, he held her tightly.

  “This is snuggle position number two,” he whispered. “Sleep well, Rachel. I’ll watch over you.”

  And then he stared up at the bottom of the pool while planning exactly what he’d do to the men who’d attacked her once he found them. And he would find them. If it was the last thing he did.

  Thankfully, Harvard had the good sense to get out of bed before Rachel woke up. She wasn’t sure what she’d have done if she’d woken to find them all over each other. This way, she could pretend the previous night had never happened. Which might make it easier to convince herself that she didn’t want a repeat of it.

  She ran her hand over his side of the bed and found it was cold. Obviously, he’d been gone a while. A glance at the clock told her it wasn’t yet seven a.m., which was her usual time to get out of bed. Crazy man was probably off running laps of the park or working out in the building’s gym.

  Her imagination provided her with an image of Harvard, muscles flexing and a light sheen of sweat on his skin as he worked on his fitness. Her cheeks heated with the memory of his body wrapped around her the night before. And then the heat deepened as she remembered his strong hands holding her as they’d kissed. He’d tasted of hot, sensual temptation. A taste she could easily become addicted to.

  But the kiss had come before everything had gone to hell. And Rachel couldn’t help but wonder if he’d treat her differently now that he knew her history. Part of her thought it would be for the best if he withdrew. Another, worryingly larger part, knew she’d think less of him if he did.

  The bottom line was, she was becoming far too familiar with Harvard’s touch.

  Covering her face with her hands, she groaned. “What are you doing, Rachel?” she admonished aloud.

  Playing with fire. That’s what she was doing. And it had to stop. She liked her life the way it was, liked the distance between herself and everyone else. When people got too close, it made her feel exposed.

  And yet…Harvard had a way of shielding her from that exposure without making her feel like he was smothering her…

  “No!” she snapped at herself. “Stop being so weak. You can resist.”

  As her arms dropped to her sides on the bed, she opened her eyes and looked straight at the bottom of the pool. She should have kept them closed. Because the man who drove her crazy was right above her, cutting through the water with the grace and ease of a dolphin. But Rachel wasn’t fooled. Harvard was no friendly sea creature; he was as much of a predator as she was. He just hid it better.

  All thoughts of getting out of bed fled now that she had Harvard to watch. No sane woman on the planet would give up the opportunity to ogle that. And if that made her a pervert, she didn’t care. It wasn’t like she could help it. He was only fourteen feet above her, with just the glass between them.

  Fourteen feet. About four meters.

  A surge of adrenaline shot through her, propelling her from the bed. She rushed to the bathroom to use the facilities and quickly brushed her teeth and hair—because even in a hurry, there were still standards one must adhere to. She didn’t bother getting dressed though; Harvard had already seen her nightwear. Instead, she raced up the stairs and slammed through the door to the pool room.

  Rachel picked up a float she used when she worked out in the pool and lobbed it at his head. Of course, she missed and hit that ugly gnome instead. Her aim seriously sucked. But it was enough of a disturbance to get his attention. He came up out of the water like Neptune, muscles flexing as the droplets ran down his skin. For the love of all things haute couture, it was distracting.

  “Hey, gorgeous, you’re awake.” His smile was wide and intimate and had her second-guessing her decision to talk to him before getting dressed for the day. “You coming in?” As he dragged his hands through the water, her eyes followed the movement. It was mesmerizing.

  She shook her head. “No. Something’s just occurred to me. We need to check the cameras outside West Building.” The block that housed her mother’s lab. “Elle said there was a script running on the computer that enabled an automatic download to the Wi-Fi card reader periodically. Her theory was that the only time someone handled the reader was when they swapped out a full memory card for a fresh one.” She took a deep breath.

  “Go on,” Harvard said, moving closer.

  “What if the files stolen during the time we set the trap weren’t taken on schedule? What if someone was outside the building, using their phone to tell the card reader to copy files? To take advantage of the security issue. The reader has a range of twenty meters. It’s possible someone could have been close enough to the building to communicate with it.”

  He nodded slowly. “And phones aren’t banned from the grounds, just the buildings.”

  “Exactly.” She smiled at him. “We need to look at the security footage. Should I call Ryan and tell him to pull it?”

  Harvard angled his head and smacked his ear, as though clearing water out of the opposite one. “Say that again,” he said. “I’m a bit clogged.”

  “I said”—she leaned closer—“should I call Ryan or wait until we get to the office to talk to him?”

  He shook his head and frowned. “Nope, still only getting bits. I’ll come closer.” He swam to the edge, until he was directly under her. “Sorry, tell me again.”

  “I said—”

  But nothing else came out, because he reached up, grabbed her, and tugged her into the pool. Rachel screamed until water filled her mouth. She kicked to the surface, wiping her face as she glared at him. “I am going to kill you for that.”

  The lunatic laughed. “Aw, come on, Rachel, the situation was begging for it.”

  “
No. It wasn’t.” She started swimming toward the steps.

  The pool was about seven feet deep, except for a wide ledge around the edges, where the glass ended. That ledge varied in height, making it possible to sit in some parts of the pool. But right now, she was in the middle, and she couldn’t touch the bottom.

  As she passed Harvard, a strong arm wrapped around her waist from behind. “You’re cute when you’re all wet.” He nuzzled the spot where her neck met her shoulder. “What will it take to make you forgive me?”

  “There is nothing you could do that would make me forgive you.” She wriggled against his hold, their legs moving gently in the water, keeping them afloat.

  “Nothing?” he whispered against her ear, and her body melted a little.

  “No. That was uncalled for and juvenile.”

  “Maybe a little,” he conceded. “But I’m trying to teach you how to play.”

  “What you’re doing is driving me crazy.”

  “Again?” His teeth nipped at her earlobe, making her clutch his arm. “I know how to fix your crazy. Didn’t I help with it yesterday? When we got home from work and you told me that I was too perfect?”

  “I don’t recall that conversation.” She remembered the kiss though, all too well. “It couldn’t have been very memorable.”

  “Then, let me remind you.” Before she could even decide if she wanted to object, he turned her and pinned her against the side of the pool, where she was able to stand on the ledge. The water lapped at her body, sliding over it in a sinuous tease.

  “I told you that I didn’t want to kiss you again,” she said, sounding a little breathless.

  He cupped her cheek, turning somber. “I won’t ever take anything you don’t want to give.” Suddenly, she found their positions reversed, with Harvard leaning back against the side of the pool and her standing between his legs. The width of the ledge made it impossible not to be within touching distance. “If you want me,” he said in that dark, deep voice that made her shiver, “you can have me. I’m all yours. I promise not to touch until you ask me to.”