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“We dust for prints and swab it for DNA, and then we have Elle replace all of the files with copies she’s edited to make them useless, just in case we lose control of the data.” He looked at Elle. “Make sure you check anything you find against Samantha’s prints first.”
“And what about after all that’s done?” Rachel pressed.
“After that, we set up cameras and wait for the thief to return.”
Francesca almost fell out of her chair with excitement. “I’m going to be part of a sting.”
“You need to carry on as usual,” Harvard warned. “You can’t do anything that will draw attention to yourself.”
“I can absolutely do that. My acting is superb. Isn’t it, Rachel?”
Rachel groaned, and Harvard decided it would be wise to keep his amusement to himself. He was about to wind up their time in Francesca’s office, when Ryan’s voice came over his comm unit. “Harvard? You read me?”
“Go ahead,” Harvard said, drawing the attention of the women in the room.
“We’ve got another problem,” Ryan said.
Chapter Eleven
“This is ludicrous,” Rachel complained for the twentieth time since Harvard had explained to her that she was the new problem the team faced. “We announced we’re getting married. So what if people are gossiping about us and saying our relationship is fake?”
“Because,” Harvard said in that same patient tone he’d used since Ryan stuck his oar in, “if people don’t believe we’re in a real relationship, they’ll watch us more carefully, and the chances of our cover being blown become a whole lot higher.”
Rachel glared out of the window of the taxi, into the night, as they sped through London’s streets. Going who knows where, because Harvard had said it was a surprise. An activity that would help them. If it was couples counseling for their fake relationship, she would smack him silly.
“We’re here,” he said as the taxi pulled over.
Rachel let out a groan. He’d brought her to Brixton, of all places. At night. In the dark. And it wasn’t even a good part of Brixton—if there was such a thing—it was a backstreet behind the train station.
“Come on,” he said, climbing out of the taxi and holding the door for her.
“I’d rather not.” Rachel stayed put.
From what she could see, graffiti covered every wall around her, and it wasn’t Banksy. No, this wasn’t art of any kind. It looked like a three-year-old had just learned to spell their name and decided to scrawl it everywhere.
“You’re being pathetic,” he said with a grin.
“Are you getting out or not?” the driver demanded.
With a huff, she climbed out of the car and watched it drive away.
“If I’d wanted to visit a third-world country,” she said, “I’d have gone back to Scotland. Why did I agree to come here with you?”
“I’m still trying to figure that out.” Harvard smiled at her. He wore a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, which he’d left untucked over faded jeans. If there had been a style called sexy casual, then he’d be the walking embodiment of it.
She, on the other hand, wore a black cocktail dress with a cute flared skirt and her usual heels. Harvard had told her to dress casual and flirty, suggesting she wear jeans. Seeing as she didn’t own any, the dress was the best she could do.
“So, tell me then,” he said. “Why did you agree to come with me tonight? I expected you to put up more of a fight.”
“You were there for our conversation this afternoon, weren’t you? I promised to make more of an effort. I didn’t promise I wouldn’t complain while I did it.”
“And I appreciate it. The effort part, that is.”
Placing a hand on the small of her back, Harvard guided her toward a gate between two rundown tenement buildings. Goodness only knew what she was stepping in as they approached it; there was a distinct lavatory smell to the place.
“I’ve changed my mind,” she said as he opened the gate. “Whatever we’re doing here, there has to be another way we can work on being more physically comfortable with each other. I know, why don’t we go back to my apartment and have sex? It would be more sanitary.”
“As attractive as that proposition is, this will be fun too.” He took Rachel’s hand in his, engulfing hers, the warmth of his touch shooting up her arm. “Besides, you aren’t ready to sleep with me. Yet.” He waggled his eyebrows before stepping in front and leading her down the alley between the buildings.
