Rich: Benson Security 5 Read online

  “Would I do that?” Samantha feigned horror.

  “In a second,” Rachel said.

  “I hate to be the voice of doom,” Preston said, “but you do have a prenup, don’t you? If you don’t, I have experience in drawing them up, even though it isn’t my area of expertise.” He cast a wary glance at Harvard. “You really should have one. You never know what the future might hold.”

  “In other words,” Harvard drawled, “he’s worried your lowly American bodyguard is after your money.” If only they knew how much he was worth on his own. While at MIT, he’d discovered that not only did he have a knack for analytical methodologies, but he was also damn good at playing the stock market too.

  Preston turned red and blustered. “I don’t mean to be insulting, but Rachel is a very wealthy woman, and she should protect herself.”

  It was clear her cousin meant well, so Harvard let him off the hook. “I wouldn’t marry her without one. I don’t want Rachel’s money—I want her body.” He winked at her. “And her heart.” And wasn’t that the truth. “I’ll sign whatever you draw up.”

  “My goodness.” Samantha fanned herself. “An honorable man in this day and age. Where did you find him?”

  “I thought we’d already established that I rent him by the hour,” Rachel said, making Harvard laugh. At least she’d picked up on her cousin’s earlier dig. “And let me tell you, services the likes of which Harvard provides don’t come cheap.” Solemnly, she looked up at him. “It’s no wonder you don’t need my money. You make enough of your own.”

  “You know.” Samantha considered her cousin. “I think you’ve also become more sarcastic since you went to work for this security company.”

  “I don’t work for them,” Rachel said. “They work for me. I’m a partner.”

  “Well, you were,” Jonathan said, reminding them of the other half of their cover.

  “You were?” Marcus leaned forward, yet another full glass of whiskey in his hand and a glazed look in his eye. The man was at least three sheets to the wind. “Did you sell your stake? What are you doing now? I thought you’d found your niche at Benson Security.”

  “I did find my niche, but now it’s time to move on. After I came into my TayFor shares last year, my interest in the company returned, and I found that I wanted to be more involved. As of Monday, I’ll be working at the main office with the rest of you. Meet the new director of special projects.” She gave a little bow.

  After a few seconds of stunned silence, her cousins erupted.

  “I’m so glad you’re coming back.” Samantha pulled her into a hug. “I hate being the only female in our generation who’s there. Now I’ll have backup.”

  “I never understood why you left in the first place,” Marcus said. “I always expected you’d become CEO after your father retired. Not that Jonathan isn’t great.” He winced in Jonathan’s direction before holding up his drink in a tipsy salute. “Sorry, old chap.”

  Jonathan’s laugh was good-natured. “I thought the same thing. In fact, if Rachel is back for good, I might try to talk her into taking over.”

  “As the official company lawyer,” Preston said, “I’d like to point out that you can’t exactly hand the CEO role over to your sister. Which, given that you also studied law, is something you should know. It’s got nothing to do with her ability. We all know she could boss us around blindfolded. It’s more to do with perception. To the rest of the pharmaceutical industry, Rachel is an unknown. You’d be wiser to offer it to the family members who already work at TayFor first, then if they—we—decline, it’s all Rachel’s.”

  “Don’t worry,” Rachel said. “I don’t want to become CEO. Jonathan is stuck with the role, but it will be interesting to be back in the fold.”

  “We need to celebrate,” Marcus said then looked around. “Oh, wait. We already are.” He cheerfully swayed in place, sloshing his drink over the front of his shirt. He didn’t seem to notice he was now wearing his whiskey. “Listen up, everyone,” he shouted.

  The noise gradually died down as he gained their attention.

  “Is this necessary?” Rachel sounded bored as she toyed with the locket she always wore.

  “Yes, it’s necessary,” Marcus said before raising his voice. “It turns out that it’s a double celebration tonight.”

  There was a gasp, and every eye shot to Rachel’s mother. She had her hands on her cheeks, her eyes wide, just like the poster image for Home Alone. “You’re pregnant?”

  “What? No!” Rachel snapped. “Honestly, Mother. That’s the first place your mind goes?”

  “A woman can hope.” She shrugged.

  “Anyway,” Marcus slurred loudly. “The news is that Rachel is coming back to work at TayFor. From Monday morning, we’ll have another Talbot in the building. Where she belongs.”

  There was a cheer.

  “About time,” her Uncle Theo called.

  “Welcome home, Rachel,” her father shouted.

  She shook her head at them in disgust before turning to Harvard. “Well, that was unnecessary. Come on, Grandmother insists on meeting you. Once she’s done embarrassing me, I’m going home. I’ve had enough for one night.”

  He was kind of impressed she’d told him her plans rather than skipping out on him. “Lead the way,” he said as he nodded his goodbyes to her cousins.

  Chapter Five

  “I like your family,” Harvard said during their drive back to London. For some reason, his voice sounded deeper and more sensual in the dark intimacy of the car. “Your immediate family, that is.”

  “You seem surprised. Is it because they’re nothing like me?”

  Rachel was very much aware that she was the black sheep of the family. She always had been, even before she’d decided on a career outside of TayFor. She’d been born with a cold edge and a knack for biting sarcasm that her parents and brothers didn’t have. Although she suspected her grandmother’s nature was quite similar to her own. The main difference between them was that Gran knew how to play nice in public, and Rachel couldn’t be bothered.

  “Rachel,” he purred her name, making her insides melt. “There’s no one like you.”

  “True.”

  “They care about you deeply.”

  Was he bewildered? That was just insulting. “Of course they do.”

  “No, I don’t mean because they’re your family and they have no choice. I mean, they genuinely adore you for being you.”

  “And you can’t understand that.” She wasn’t offended; most people couldn’t.

  “No,” he said softly. “I understand it all too well.”

  She wasn’t going to touch that statement with a ten-foot pole. Or wonder why his words caused a strange warmth to surge through her.

  Driving onto Albert Bridge, they passed Battersea Park, its vast expanse a dark void in an otherwise glimmering city. Beneath them, the city lights bounced off the choppy waters of the Thames, and she caught a glimpse of a party on the deck of a houseboat.

  “Did your super-spy senses tell you who’s stealing from TayFor?” Rachel asked as they waited for the lights to turn green on the Chelsea side of the bridge.

  “It doesn’t quite work like that, but I did pick up a few interesting things. Your cousin Marcus likes his booze, which makes me wonder what kind of control he has in other areas of his life. Meanwhile, Preston’s chomping at the bit to helm TayFor. And I suspect Samantha would have tried to get me into bed if she’d had the opportunity.”

  “Sounds about right.”

  They drove through Chelsea, past the townhouse her parents used when they were in the city, and into Westminster, where Rachel turned into the street that housed Benson Security. The converted Victorian terrace house had a couple of apartments above the offices that staff used when needed. Harvard was currently housed in one of them, as he hadn’t found his own place yet. It seemed to Rachel that he hadn’t made much effort to either.

  “You aren’t bothered that your cousin trie
d to seduce your fiancé?”

  “I would be if you really were my fiancé.”

  “Rachel.” The way he said her name was like a caress, even when it was tinged with long suffering. “You have to act like I am your fiancé, and if your cousin comes on to me, you need to tell her to back off. People are already suspicious about our relationship because you act like you’d rather be anywhere than by my side. You need to get into the role. If I was your fiancé, what would you have done to Samantha?”

  “I would have calmly explained that you’re already taken.”

  “Rachel…”

  “Fine, and then I would have signed her up for a week at a clinic for sex addicts but told her I was sending her to a spa—my treat.”

  His laughter felt like bubbles on her skin.

  “That’s my girl,” he said as she parked in front of the office.

  “I’m not your girl. I’m not a girl at all. I’m a full-grown woman who’s playing pretend with her work colleague.” She held his gaze. “Don’t get confused about what’s happening here.”

  “I wouldn’t dare.” He threw the door open, climbed out and said, “Back in a minute,” before he rounded the car.

  She opened her window. “Wait,” she called after him. “Why are you coming back?”

  He seemed confused by the question. “I’m picking up my bag, and then I’m moving in with you for the duration.”

  A cold resolve took root at his words. “Oh, I don’t think so.”

  “I’m your fiancé. We need to get to know each other. We need to get comfortable being around each other. The only way to do that is to spend time together. What if someone in your family drops by? They’re gonna think it’s pretty damn weird that I live here. We already gave the impression I have to be with you twenty-four seven. I can’t do that from here.” He pointed to the building behind him.

  Rachel didn’t bother arguing with him. It wasn’t happening, and that was that. Instead, she closed the window, put the car in gear, and drove away. In her rearview mirror, she saw him pull his phone out of his pocket. A few seconds later, her iPhone buzzed from its spot attached to the dash.

  While stopped at a red light, she read his message: You get a reprieve until Monday morning. I’ll pick you up at seven.

  Rachel narrowed her eyes as she zoomed toward Kensington and her home. He’d learn. It might be the hard way, but he’d definitely learn that Rachel did not take instruction well.

  Come Monday morning, Rachel wasn’t waiting at her apartment for a pickup as she was supposed to. Harvard wasn’t even sure why he’d expected to find her there. Stupidity maybe.

  Teeth clenched, he drove the forty minutes to TayFor Pharmaceuticals’ complex alone. It was the last time he’d do it. Because one way or another, this little power struggle over his position at Rachel’s side would be sorted that morning.

  The admin section of the TayFor complex was housed in a gray stone Victorian mansion that had been renovated into offices when Rachel’s grandfather first started the company. Since her father took over, the land around the original building had been developed as TayFor’s research complex and contained several newer buildings. All of which sat in manicured grounds. To Harvard’s eye, the setup was typically English. Upper-class English. Everything about it said genteel, sophisticated, understated, and very wealthy. It was a complex designed to put even the most nervous of business partners at ease.

  He let himself in through the main doors of the TayFor office and headed straight for the smiling woman behind the reception desk. “I’m Michael Carter, Rachel Ford-Talbot’s fiancé and bodyguard.”

  “Of course, Mr. Carter.” The woman, who appeared to be in her fifties and very efficient, pointed to an iPad propped on the desk. “I’m Sandra Caird. If you’d follow the instructions on the screen, I’ll fetch your ID. Ms. Ford-Talbot informed me you would be in around now.”

  Harvard was sure she had, probably smiling like a shark while she did it. “Has Rachel been here long?” Instead of waiting at her apartment for him like they’d agreed she would during their call the day before.

  “About an hour. Do you have your passport with you?”

  He reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and handed it over. Sandra was very careful to match the image inside to his face and then scan the document for their records. Meanwhile, Harvard logged in to the iPad and pressed his fingers to the scanner beneath it so that it would record his prints. As security setups went, it wasn’t half bad.

  “Here you go,” Sandra said. “Your passport and your ID. Please wear it at all times. You’ll need it to access the areas you’ve been cleared for.”

  He took the lanyard with the card—the photo he’d submitted the week before already on it—and hung it around his neck. “Thanks. Can you point me toward Rachel’s office?”

  “Certainly.” She gestured to the security door at the end of the spacious reception area, where a guard sat beside a scanner. “If you pass the guard and go through the door, you’ll find a lift on your left. Take it to the third floor. Ms. Ford-Talbot’s office is to your right when you exit.”

  “Thanks.” He flashed her a smile before heading to the security guard.

  A familiar face grinned at him. “I see you’ve already lost the body you’re supposed to be guarding.” Ryan Granger kept his voice low as he spoke. The ex-soldier, who was only slightly younger than Harvard, had been with Benson Security since the first office opened in Scotland. He was a good man to have at your back, although his sense of humor and constant eating took a bit of getting used to.

  “Don’t worry,” Harvard muttered. “I know exactly where to find it again.”

  “If you’ll just walk through the scanner,” Ryan said, using a louder tone that would carry to the receptionist, “that would be great. Please empty any metal objects from your pockets before you do so.”

  Harvard took out his keys, phone, and wallet and placed them on the table for the bag scanner to check before walking through the metal detector. He knew his teammate had turned it off so the gun in his shoulder holster wouldn’t set off an alarm.

  Ryan had already been in place with security for two weeks. Only the head of his department knew who he was and why he was there. To everyone else, he was merely a new employee.

  “Do me a favor.” Harvard put his belongings back in his pockets. “Disable Rachel’s car. She’s going home with me at the end of the day.”

  Ryan struggled to hide his amusement. “Unless she calls a taxi and sneaks out when you’re looking the other way.”

  “Just sort the car. I’ll deal with Rachel.”

  “Aye aye, boss.” Ryan was clearly unconvinced.

  “Did you do your rounds?” Harvard asked quietly.

  “I scanned Rachel’s office for surveillance devices as soon as I got in this morning. It was clear. I didn’t get a chance to do the other offices on the exec floor because my shift partner was too damn nosey.”

  “At least Rachel’s office is clear; that’s something. Anything else I need to know?”

  “Nothing that can’t wait until the team meeting. You’re bringing pizza, right?”

  Harvard stared at him.

  “Guess I’ll bring the pizza,” Ryan said at last.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” Harvard said. “I have a runaway fiancée to deal with first.”

  “Now you know why no one else on the team volunteered to partner with the Queen of Darkness.” Ryan sounded amused. “We totally warned you, dude.”

  Since he wasn’t supposed to know the security guard, Harvard didn’t think it appropriate to flip him off. Instead, he headed for the elevator.

  And made it five steps past the door before he was waylaid by yet another of Rachel’s relatives.

  “We haven’t met,” the man said. “I’m Charles Talbot, financial director and Rachel’s uncle.” He didn’t hold out his hand.

  “People call me Harvard.” His trained eyes took in every detail of the ma
n before him.

  In his early sixties, with steel gray hair and a bit of a paunch under his tailored pinstripe suit, he looked like the stereotypical English gent. All ruddy complexion and permanent air of disapproval. After reading the file on the man, Harvard had pitied Rupert and Samantha for having him as a father. And their research had revealed that his wife wasn’t much better. Clarissa was the definition of simpering English flower—when she wasn’t stoned or drunk, that is.

  “Congratulations on your engagement,” Charles said, in the same tone others would use to give their condolences.

  “Thanks.” Harvard thrust his hands into his pockets and waited. He’d had many conversations like this over the years and knew how to read the signs of what was to come.

  “I never imagined Rachel would…couple with an American.” He sneered the word, as though American was synonymous with dirt. “And an African-American at that. I hear you’re also her bodyguard. How very…modern of you both.”

  Yeah, Rachel’s uncle was a racist asshole.

  “According to the tabloids,” Harvard drawled, “if the peerage doesn’t modernize, they’ll die out. Probably a good thing Rachel’s bringing in some new blood.”

  Charles puffed out his chest. “As her uncle and an elder to you both, I feel I should point out that the gossip rags will have a field day with your relationship. I say this only to spare Rachel the upset of going through the pain of such an experience, you understand. You must have noticed the way they raked Prince Harry’s wife over the coals, and she wasn’t nearly as…dark…as, well, you are.”

  Oh, he wanted to punch the unctuous little prick right on his glowing red nose. “I didn’t realize the UK had a sliding scale for racism. Guess that wasn’t covered in my Welcome to England package.”

  “I don’t believe you’re taking this seriously. It isn’t only the color of your skin that will cause issue, it’s also your class.” He lowered his voice. “For Pete’s sake, you’re working class. And American. It’s as though Rachel deliberately went looking for a man who ticked the most controversial boxes and dragged him home to her parents. Can’t you see what this is going to do to the family? To Rachel? We’ll be the laughingstock of the town. Do you really want to put her through that?”