All amusement disappeared from his face. “We really do need you on this, Rachel. If there was another way, we’d have found it by now. Without you, there’s no way we’ll have the access we need.”
And, unfortunately, he was right. They all were—even Callum. But she didn’t have to like it. “Fine,” she said with a good measure of bad grace. “I’ll play my part, but that’s all I’m doing. Don’t expect anything else.” She brushed past him to open the door. “And tell the idiots who bet against me to get their money ready. I don’t lose.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t lose, Rachel. Even if you did give in, you’d still come out a winner. I’d make sure of it.” His voice was a purr of promise that made her thighs clench.
“You know what they say about a man and his ego,” she said as she walked away. “The bigger the ego, the more he feels he has to prove.”
His deep, echoing laugh followed her as she strode past reception and out into the London sun. Hailing a cab, she took a steadying breath and straightened her shoulders. There was no place for emotion in this. The decision was made. She was going back to TayFor.
And to the past she’d fought to leave behind.
Chapter Two
Rachel hadn’t said more than ten words during the hour-long drive from central London to the heart of Surrey. You didn’t have to be a genius to know what was bothering her. They were on their way to dinner with her family, where he’d pose as her fiancé. To say Rachel wasn’t thrilled would be an understatement.
“You realize you’ve got a real-life spy in your James Bond car,” Harvard said into a silence that was so thick it made it hard to breathe.
If looks could kill, the glance she shot in his direction would have incinerated him. “You are no James Bond.”
Rachel’s hands tightened on the steering wheel of her Aston Martin, making the emerald cut diamond in her engagement ring catch the light and gleam. He’d spent days hunting down the perfect ring for her and had finally settled on a solitaire diamond in a platinum setting. Icy and elegant, just like Rachel, it was worth every cent he’d spent. Although well aware this was purely an undercover op, he hadn’t been able to resist the urge to see his ring on her finger. Of course, being Rachel, when he’d given it to her, she’d slipped it on without a word. But that alone had told him she liked it. If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have worn it.
“I know, I’m no James Bond.” He relaxed back into the gray leather of the passenger seat and smiled at her. “He makes stupid decisions that would get him killed in real life. Plus, he’s a chauvinist asshole.”
She did that dramatic eye-roll thing that made his dick stand to attention. Damn, she was sexy as hell. All class and ice and keen intelligence. From her sleek mahogany hair falling against pale porcelain skin to her professionally manicured blood-red fingernails, she was perfection. Ever since he’d set eyes on her, he’d wanted to touch. But Rachel was resisting. He just wasn’t sure why—yet.
He’d seen the way she watched him when she thought he wasn’t looking. The woman practically drooled. And it wasn’t like she was a nun either. She’d dated in the time he’d been at Benson Security. One date per man. Which was the only reason Harvard had let them live—their lack of repeat access to Rachel.
“Why don’t you keep the flowers I send you?” The question popped out, even though an idiot could guess the answer.
“Maybe because I don’t want them.” She arched a perfectly groomed brow at him. “Or you.”
Oh, it was on the tip of his tongue to call her on her lies. On more than one occasion, he’d caught her touching the petals of the flowers he had delivered to her office every Monday. There had been a wistful softening in her face before she’d lifted the vase they’d come in and dumped it in the trash.
He hadn’t imagined it either. Elle Roberts, their resident computer genius, had alerted him to her behavior when she’d asked why Rachel didn’t keep the flowers she so obviously wanted. Like everything else about the woman who fascinated him, the answer was a mystery.
Unfortunately for Rachel, Harvard loved mysteries. He’d always been a sucker for a puzzle other people couldn’t solve. And for women who could kick his ass. Yeah, Rachel was his dream woman.
There was no denying he had issues.
“This is a complete waste of time.” She didn’t bother to signal before cutting someone off. “The only person at this dinner who doesn’t know our engagement is fake is my sister-in-law. Why do we have to pretend for Amelia? It isn’t like she’s involved in the family company. All she thinks about outside of Jonathan is her precious cello. She’s hardly likely to notice there’s anyone else in the room, let alone that you’re supposed to be my fiancé.”
“Your father seems to think this dinner will be good practice for convincing the rest of your family.”
“I honestly don’t see how.”
“Just go with it. There’s no point in letting it upset you.”
“Upset me?” She cast him a glance full of outrage. “This isn’t upsetting me. This is nothing but an irritation. I’m more annoyed that my weekend plans were ruined by your pathetic need for my assistance.”
Oh yeah, she could flay the skin off his balls with one sentence. And why the hell did that make him want her more? Harvard was beginning to think his closest friends were right: his taste in women was going to get him killed one day.
But what a way to go.
“Why are you smiling like a lunatic?” Rachel demanded as she raced through the motorway traffic at a speed that would likely get her pulled over by the cops. Then, of course, he’d have to step in to make sure she didn’t make things worse by opening her mouth. It was one of Benson Security’s standard operating procedures for anyone who had the misfortune of being a passenger in her car.
You had to love a business that had company guidelines for dealing with a boss who enjoyed breaking traffic rules.
“Stop smiling like that,” Rachel snapped. “It’s disturbing.”
He did his best to appear somber. “We need to get our story straight before we reach your parents’ house.”
“What’s there to get straight? Even I know that spies do a better job when they stay as close to the truth as possible. So, we tell Amelia we met at work, and”—she grimaced—“we fell in love.”
“Yeah, say it exactly like that. I’m sure you’ll convince everybody present that your feelings are genuine.”
“I don’t need to convince everyone. Just Amelia. Surely we can work out the details of this farce before we meet everyone else.”
She slid between two cars, barely missing one, and it promptly blared its horn at her. From the look on her face, Harvard would bet she was wishing her Aston Martin was as tricked out as Bond’s so she could fire a rocket at the offender.
“It doesn’t matter that this dinner’s only close family. It doesn’t even matter that most of the people present are in on the lie. This is a chance to establish our story for when other people ask questions. Which we should have been doing today.” Instead, she’d disappeared off the face of the planet and refused to take his calls. “Did you read over the cover information I sent you? We need to be on the same page here.”