“Why me?” Ryan asked no one in particular.
“Elle, Harry, get us something to go on,” Callum continued. “I’ll set the bastard in the basement free once I’ve had another wee word with him. In the meantime, you can all get back to work.” He looked at Rachel. “Except you.”
As the room cleared, Harvard leaned in to whisper, “Do you want me to stay?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’ll meet you downstairs in a few minutes.”
With a nod, he headed for the door. He closed it quietly behind him, leaving only the three partners behind.
“Are you going to try to talk me out of this?” Rachel asked Lake and Callum.
“Hell no,” Callum said. “Do I look like an idiot? I’m more than happy to find out what life will be like around here without you arguing about every bloody little thing.”
Lake’s lips twitched as his icy blue eyes met hers. “You sure this is what you want?”
“Yes.” Did he expect her to break down in tears about leaving Benson Security? She’d felt more upset when she missed a hair appointment.
“Okay,” he said. “But remember this. We’re like the mob. Once you’re accepted into our ranks, you can never leave.”
“Unfortunately, he’s right,” Callum said. “We’re family. Whether you like it or not. Expect to see a whole lot more of us until your blackmailer’s behind bars. Or buried. Because you don’t leave family hanging when they need you. Isn’t that right, Rachel?”
If he was referring to the times she’d pulled his head out of his backside and forced him to stop feeling sorry for himself, then he was wrong. That wasn’t about family. It was about having had enough of his endless self-pity. Honestly, the man had plenty going for him but was too damn stubborn to see it. Somebody had to shake him hard. Now that he had Isobel, there was no need to keep an eye on him. Isobel wouldn’t suffer through his introspection any more than Rachel had.
“Are we finished here?” She stood and picked up her bag. Although she was just being polite, as she’d already decided it was past time to leave.
“Yeah,” Lake said with a rare genuine smile that almost blinded her for a second.
“I’m going back to bed.” Callum strode from the room.
When Rachel followed him out, she ran straight into Elle, Julia, and Isobel.
Elle held up her phone. “She’s here,” she said to whoever was on the line.
“I hear you’re getting married.” Megan Raast’s voice burst from the speaker, making Rachel groan. Megan and her husband were on bodyguard duty in the Middle East, and she’d hoped to avoid the reckless Scot’s opinion on her life, but Elle had blown that. “Do vampires get married? Isn’t that illegal or something?”
“You’re so brave when you’re miles away,” Rachel drawled.
“So, who’s organizing your bachelorette party?” Megan carried on as though Rachel hadn’t said a word. “It’s me, isn’t it?”
“Over my dead body.”
“Perfect,” Megan said blithely. “And as for bridesmaid dresses, if you choose pink, I will hurt you.”
“It would clash with my hair,” Elle said helpfully.
“I suit pink,” Isobel said.
“I didn’t ask any of you to act as bridesmaids,” Rachel pointed out.
“Aw, it’s okay,” Megan said, sounding far too amused. “We wouldn’t embarrass you by making you ask. Just consider it a given. We’re more than happy to be part of your wedding. Aren’t we, girls?”
The idiots nodded.
“And,” Megan carried on, obviously enjoying herself, “Friday night get-togethers are still happening, as soon as I’m back in town and able to organize you lot. Which means you might want to warn Harvard. Because as long as you have the best apartment and a private pool, we’re meeting at your place.”
“I keep telling you,” Rachel said. “I don’t want to get together on Fridays. Or any other day. Why do you insist on harassing me like this?”
“It isn’t harassing,” Julia said softly, her eyes wide. “We’re making sure you have fun.”
“Friends don’t let friends sit alone on a Friday night.” Elle grinned at her.
“I’m not your friend,” she reminded them.
“No,” Megan said. “You’re our project. We figure if we pool our resources, we can turn you into a real human being—in a decade or two.”
“As delightful as this little chat is, it’s time for me to go do just about anything else.” Rachel gestured for them to move out of her way.
They didn’t.
“We realize you’re leaving Benson Security,” Megan said through the phone. “But we want you to know we’ll still be there for you. That’s what a girl crew’s all about. Ready, ladies?”
“Yes,” the three women called before enveloping Rachel in a group hug.
It was a nightmare. And she couldn’t even push them away because Isobel was pregnant and Julia bruised easily.
“I am going to kill you, Megan,” she promised through gritted teeth as the other women held her tight. “I’m going to take my gun and fill you with holes.”
“Not the way you shoot, you won’t.” With a laugh, the line went dead.
“Stop hugging me,” Rachel demanded, but of course, no one listened.
It was then Rachel began to wonder if her superpower of repelling people was faulty. Because a few years earlier, one withering look would have stopped this hug in its tracks.
“Girl power forever,” Isobel yelled.
“Dear Lord, save me from this hell,” Rachel prayed aloud.
Chapter Thirty
The entire TayFor complex was abuzz with speculation over the missing management staff. And an email sent out by the CEO did little to quash the gossip. In fact, it probably added to it, as it stated that Rachel had taken on a larger role to compensate for the sudden vacancies and that Harvard had been appointed as head of security, effective immediately.
Whether Harvard liked it or not, Rachel had just announced to the world—and her blackmailer—that she had no intention of heeding their demands.
“Does she want the arsewipe to go to the press with the photos?” Ryan asked from his position in Rachel’s outer office, where Harvard had told him to wait while he checked in with TayFor’s security team. “Because that’s exactly what’s going to happen. Hell, she’s practically daring them to do it. And how long do I have to play secretary to her highness?” He pointed at the pile of paperwork on the corner of the desk. “She’s making me do filing.”
Harvard checked his wristwatch. “Another hour and we’re done for the day. As your boss, I’m giving you permission to disappear early.”
“Thank fu—”
“Oh,” Samantha interrupted as she sailed into the room. “Does Rachel have two bodyguards now? Is she marrying you both?” She flashed a coy smile at Ryan. “She always did hoard all the goodies. Perhaps one of you could spend some time guarding this body instead?” She waved a hand down herself and, for a second, Harvard thought Ryan would start drooling.
“Is there something you wanted, Samantha?” Harvard asked.
“Yes.” Her smile was bright and very determined. “I’m taking Rachel to her appointment at the bridal boutique.”
“And that’s my cue to run.” Matching action to words, Ryan disappeared so fast you would have thought his ass was on fire.
Coward.
There was the sound of a collision and apologies in the corridor before Rachel’s mother appeared in the doorway. “I’m fine,” she said. “Almost got toppled by one of the guards, but I’m fine. Is she ready?”
“I haven’t managed to get to her yet to find out,” Samantha said.
“Hello, Harvard darling.” Francesca reached up to peck him on the cheek. “Be prepared for fireworks.” With that, she opened Rachel’s office door and disappeared inside. “Pack up,” she ordered. “We’re going to look at wedding dresses.”
“No, we’re not,” Rachel said
from behind the desk she hated and was in the process of replacing.
“If you’re getting married, you need a dress.” There was no give in her mother’s voice, which made Harvard think he was getting a glimpse into Rachel’s youth. Only a strong woman would have been able to deal with a daughter like Rachel.
Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “Then pick one for me. Any one you choose is fine. I’ll only be wearing it for an hour.”
“She’s always been terribly romantic,” Samantha said drolly.
“Rachel Mary Francesca Ford-Talbot, get up out of that chair this instant. I do not have the energy to deal with your tantrums today.” Her mother pointed at the door. “Out. Now.”
Harvard’s eyebrows shot straight up his head as he watched Rachel glare at her mother while doing exactly as she was told.
“It’s like watching an eclipse, isn’t it?” Samantha said. “You understand the mechanics, but it’s so bloody rare, you’re still in awe. Only Aunt Fran could ever do this with Rachel.”
“Don’t say a word,” Rachel ordered as she stalked past them. “Especially you.” She pointed at Samantha, who made a show of zipping her lips.
Then Sam grinned at Harvard before following Rachel out the door.
Francesca linked her arm through Harvard’s. “I assume you’re coming too.”
“Absolutely,” he said. “You know, you could be a Southern Mother. My mom would welcome you into the club any day. I’m in my thirties, and I’ve yet to say anything to her except ‘yes, ma’am’. She’d skin me alive if I disagreed with her.”
“You are delightful,” Francesca said as they made their way out of the building. “I’m glad she has you.”
“Rachel feels exactly the same way,” he told her, and she rewarded him with a grin.
Instead of settling back into the family business after a decade away, or chasing down her blackmailer with her team, Rachel was in a backstreet in Covent Garden, looking at wedding dresses. If ever there was a sign that the universe was against her, this was it.
“Isn’t this fun?” her mother said as they sat on a replica Louis the Fifteenth sofa, complete with gold-leafed legs and embroidered satin cushions. “I needed a diversion from your father and his constant whining about bacon. Is it possible to have a bacon addiction? Maybe I should find a rehabilitation facility for him.”
“Just buy him fake bacon and tell him it’s real,” Harvard called from behind the lush white velvet curtain that divided the fitting room from the waiting room. He sounded highly amused.
Her mother turned toward the curtain. “Didn’t I hear you swear you’d act as though you were invisible?” she reprimanded, earning a deep chuckle from the peanut gallery. “It’s bad enough we’ve brought the groom wedding dress shopping. The least you can do is pretend you aren’t here.”
“I’m not just her fiancé,” Harvard said. “I’m her bodyguard. I go where she goes.”
“Well, if she gets attacked by a bolt of lace, we’ll call you in.”
There was more deep chuckling from outside the dressing area.
“That’s not true,” Rachel drawled. “He’s just being nosey. He doesn’t need to be here.”
“Oh, there’s a need,” Harvard said. “I’m here to make sure you actually buy a damn dress.”
“Isn’t this wonderful?” Samantha gushed as she ran her fingers over a rack of dresses. “All the best people are using this shop right now. The designer’s dresses are in dreadfully high demand. It was a complete nightmare getting you this appointment.” She lowered her voice and continued, “She’s fitted three Hollywood actresses, an Indian princess, and European royalty within the past month alone.”
“I’m sure you went to a lot of trouble,” Rachel said as the sales assistant handed them flutes of champagne. At least there was something decent to drink. “But was it really necessary? We haven’t even set a date for the wedding. There’s absolutely no hurry to find a dress. Perhaps we could do this another day.”
“Harvard darling,” her mother said, raising her voice, obviously deciding to include Harvard in the conversation after all. “When are you getting married?”
“Soon as possible,” came the deep reply.
Her mother gave her a smug smile.
“That means at least a year or two from now,” Rachel said.
“Don’t be silly.” Samantha pulled out a dress. “It means as soon as we can organize the event. And I think we could easily do that for you within a few months.”
“And who’s being an idiot now?” Rachel demanded before finishing her champagne. “It takes at least a year to plan a wedding.”
“Not if you already have the venue,” her mother chimed in with an irritatingly sweet smile and a wicked sparkle in her eye.
Rachel reached over, took her mother’s champagne from her hand, and drained that too before handing back the glass. Her mother rolled her eyes and set it on the delicate table beside her. “Was that necessary?”
“Oh, you have no idea,” Rachel replied. She was beginning to think there wasn’t enough alcohol in London to get her through this shopping trip.
“Of course, you’ll be married at Talbot House,” Samantha said. “Which means we already have in-house caterers and a wedding planner we can use. Music shouldn’t be a problem. You can always get Jonathan’s wife to play her cello, or I’m sure she’d bring her quartet. Although we have enough connections between us to attract someone with more celebrity appeal if that’s what you want. And flowers can be sourced locally or from the estate gardens.” Her eyebrows went up. “What else is there?”
“Uh, a license? Someone to officiate? Rings? Harvard’s family? A reception?” And how about some time to get used to the idea? Only last week, the wedding had been fake, and that had only changed a few days earlier. Surely, she could be afforded a minute to let that sink in.
“We can use the ballroom at the house for the reception.” Her mother looked over at Samantha, who held a dress in front of her while posing in the mirrors. “I wouldn’t mind having something other than cello music though. Isn’t Elton free?”
“He’s on tour, Aunt Fran.”
“Elton who?” Harvard’s voice came through the curtain. “Elton John?”
“Of course, Elton John,” Samantha said with a laugh. “Your fiancé’s so delightfully…ordinary, isn’t he? You are so lucky.”
“I know.” Rachel narrowed her eyes at her cousin. “And he’s taken. We talked about this, remember?”
Samantha grinned widely. “What happened to that pinky promise we made as children? Didn’t we agree to share everything?”
“That was only because you wanted to get your grubby little hands on my pony, and I was too young to see through you.” She’d been ten, and Samantha a far wiser twelve. The pony ended up living at Sam’s family home, and Rachel learned the hard way never to make pinky promises with her cousin.
“How about this one?” Samantha held up a dress that had more lace than a curtain in a council flat.
“It looks like something Scarlett O’Hara would wear while running into the firing guns of the Confederate Army.”
There was a loud male groan. “Scarlett was on the side of the Confederacy. She would have run into the guns of the Union soldiers. Our kids are gonna grow up ignorant.”
Rachel’s mother giggled like a teenager. “I do like your fiancé. He’ll make a very entertaining addition to the family.”
“Speaking of children.” Samantha held up an equally awful dress, making Rachel shake her head. “Are you planning to stay on at TayFor once you start a family?”
Rachel’s jaw dropped. “We only just got engaged.”
“How many times do I have to tell you not to say engaged?” her mother said. “Say betrothed, or promised in marriage, or anything other than engaged. Engaged is what happens to a toilet cubicle when it’s occupied.”
A chuckle rumbled through the room from Harvard. Great, at least one of them was having fun.
&
nbsp; “This one,” Samantha said as she held up a mermaid-style dress.
Rachel shook her head. “That’s more you than me.”
“Do you think?” She studied it, then beamed at them. “I’m trying it on.” She disappeared into the changing area.
“Well, that didn’t take long,” her mother said with a smile.
No, it hadn’t. Rachel lowered her voice and frowned at her mother. “Why are you torturing me like this? We only just told you this morning that the engagement was real. Did we have to jump into planning today?”
Her mother’s hand covered hers. “Yes. We did. Sam had set up the appointment, and we needed some light relief. Face it, darling, you never seem to have enough fun in your life.” Her eyes turned sad.
And Rachel hated seeing that look in her mother’s eyes. “Fine, I suppose I can try on one dress.”
“That’s my girl.” Her mother patted her hand.
As Rachel made her way across the thick white carpet to the dress rack, Samantha stepped from the changing area. The dress fit like a glove and was perfect on her.
“You look stunning.” Her mother was awestruck.
Samantha twirled. “Isn’t it glorious?”
“You should buy it.” Rachel was completely serious. “I doubt you’ll find another dress that needs so few alterations and suits you as well as that one does.”
Sam brushed her long blonde hair over her shoulder and gave Rachel a wide-eyed, innocent look that instantly aroused her suspicions. “Do you know what would set it off beautifully? The Talbot locket.”
Rachel’s hand went to the place on her throat where the locket should have been. The locket Sam had been trying to get her grubby little hands on since they were children. The one Rachel hadn’t seen since she’d scratched it from her throat. “You never know, Sam, one of these days, I might cave and give it to you.” But then she’d just have to look at it around Sam’s neck instead of her own, and the memories it evoked would still be the same. No, it was better off in Benson Security’s safe. One day, she’d deal with it, but not today.
“Yay,” Sam said. “I always knew you’d come around.” She smiled as she posed for the mirrors. “I do look wonderful in this. I might just get it to wear out dancing.”
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