by C. J. Miller
Lucia appeared bored. She inspected her nails.
“May I speak plainly?” Mitchell asked.
“I wish that you would,” Cash said, knowing most of what Mitchell would tell him would be lies.
“You know who I work for. You know that he stays at the top of his game by being careful about who he allows into his circle.”
Cash nodded. Anderson was being especially careful now, right before his grand exit. “My father has worked for him for years.” Not that he believed much trust existed between thieves.
Mitchell nodded. “You didn’t flip on anyone when you were arrested. That’s good for you. Otherwise, you’d be dead. But you’re on the FBI’s payroll and that tracking device around your ankle could cause problems.”
“It’s the ankle monitor or jail.” He’d wanted Benjamin to remove it for good behavior, but Benjamin seemed bent on keeping Cash under his thumb.
Mitchell set a device on the desktop. “Anderson went through a great deal of trouble to acquire a method of circumventing your leash. There are two pieces that snap apart. Set one in the location where you’d like the FBI to think you are and wrap the other around your device. It will broadcast your location as if from the first place.”
Freedom and a way out from under the FBI’s surveillance. He tried not to appear too eager, but it had been too long since he’d been a free man. “Impressive.”
Mitchell grinned. “We know the right people.”
Cash guessed the device was stolen, but he couldn’t have guessed the source. The government? The mob? He could see uses for it in many scenarios. “I get this in exchange for what?” The price would be sky-high.
“Anderson is worried that someone is coming after him,” Mitchell said. “He’s a wealthy man and he’s been forced underground to protect himself and his wealth.”
It wasn’t his wealth. Anderson’s money was stolen.
“We’d like you to look into what the FBI has on Anderson. Let us know if they are close to finding him,” Mitchell said.
Cash rubbed his jaw. “I’m working my way into their trust. Getting to the right information might be possible. But I’d be taking a risk. I need something to compensate me for that risk.”
Though the tracking concealment device was a valuable item, a con man didn’t work for free. Cash was in character and he was behaving in a way he believed mirrored his father’s actions.
Mitchell grinned. “You have a son.”
Rage tore through him. If Mitchell tried to use Adrian to manipulate Cash, Cash would kill Mitchell before letting his son be hurt. These men were not getting near Adrian.
“I know you must want to see him. If you do this for Anderson, he’ll make sure you’re reunited with your son.”
A muscle flexed in Cash’s jaw. He didn’t like the idea of anyone near Adrian, especially not Anderson. “Just the money. I want money.” Adrian was not part of this.
Mitchell shook his head slowly in disbelief. “After what you did for your son, you’re no longer interested in seeing him?”
Why would he want his son involved with Mitchell or Anderson or anyone like them?
“He’s better off without me in his life. I did what I could and I’ll send money when I can. But I don’t want to see him. I’m not good for him.”
Not exactly lies, they were thoughts he’d had about a reunion with his son, never sure if it was right for Adrian.
“I don’t think that will be a problem. We want the information. You want money. Message received loud and clear.” Mitchell slid a picture across the table. “But if you decide to betray Anderson, we can get to Adrian.”
Cash picked up the picture and an array of emotions pummeled him. Happiness, sadness, a sharp protective instinct, but the strongest emotion was longing. It was the most recent picture he’d seen of Adrian. He was wearing a maroon hooded sweatshirt and carrying a backpack. He was talking to a girl about his age who had a pretty smile and long brown hair.
Cash was dying to know more about the picture, but he hid his interest for Adrian’s sake.
“I don’t want you near my son,” Cash said. He’d been holding back his affection for his son, but a direct threat from Mitchell was serious.
Lucia touched Cash’s arm, both a reminder and a comfort. She was there for him. She’d back him up if he needed it.
“Anderson has friends everywhere,” Mitchell said.
If his son was hurt, Cash would see that Anderson and every member of his organization paid.
Mitchell pulled the picture away and slid it back into a folder. “Anderson wants one more action to prove your loyalty.”
“I’ve proven my loyalty,” Cash said. The threat against his son lingered and he had a hard time keeping a lid on his anger.
“Then let’s call this an exercise to be sure you haven’t lost your touch while you were in prison.”
Cash knew he appeared angry and frustrated. The honesty of the emotions played well in the situation. “What is it that you want me to do? Because Anderson knows I have rules.”
Mitchell laughed. “Right. Your code of honor. I can’t understand your aversion to shows of strength, but it shouldn’t interfere.”
Shows of strength meant violence. Cash wouldn’t maim or kill someone. That was not negotiable. Cash waited in silence.
Mitchell pulled out another picture and slid it across the desk. “Anderson wants a Copley painting, Mrs. George Watson. It would round out his collection of early American artwork.”
Cash snorted. “And I want Picasso’s The Old Guitarist because I like blue, but I’m over it.”
Mitchell lifted a brow. “Are you saying you can’t get it?”
The request was ridiculous.
“It’s too much of a risk. Do you know what the price of a job like this would be on the street?” Cash asked.
Mitchell folded his hands on his desk. “This isn’t the street. This is Anderson’s private club. He wants that painting and he wants you to get it for him. If you deliver it by next Friday, then you’ll be on Anderson’s payroll.”
Cash took the picture from Mitchell. The beginnings of an idea formed. A long shot. He’d need a series of lucky breaks to acquire the painting. He either had to take the job or they were done now. “I’ll get it.”
Mitchell smiled at him. “Right answer.”
The right answer to Mitchell’s request, but it opened a slew of additional questions for Cash, one of them being how was he going to pull off the biggest theft of his career with the FBI at his back.
Chapter 7
“How exactly will we do this?” Lucia asked, pressing her mouth close to Cash’s ear.
He had agreed to steal a painting from the Smithsonian American Art Museum. No one had ever managed to rob the museum, and with improvements to security every year it was unlikely he would succeed.
“I have a plan.” Cash sat at the bar inside the casino and signaled for a drink. The bartender slid a glass of rum to him. He took a sip.
Lucia stepped between his legs. “The FBI won’t sanction a theft.” She tugged at his tie, implying she wanted to leave. She hoped her posture and body language made the reason clear to anyone watching.
“Let’s talk about this in the car,” Cash said.
Out of the corner of her eye, Lucia saw Audrey at one of the card tables. She had a drink in one hand and was laughing at something the dealer was saying. Was Audrey caught up with Anderson? Lucia knew her friend wasn’t naive. An underground casino reeked of illegal activity. Audrey liked the thrill of the forbidden and the exclusive.
Lucia set her hands on the tops of Cash’s thighs. “Do you think this helps?”
“It makes it harder to think. It makes the blood rush out of my brain,” Cash said. Her hands moved higher and her th
umb brushed his erection through his pants.
As his hands traversed her dress, Lucia kissed his neck. He smelled good, clean, and the strength in his arms turned her on.
“Do you want this to happen here?” Cash asked.
She giggled. “I’m not a sex-in-public kind of woman. We have a perfectly serviceable car outside.” She spoke the last part a little louder. The bartender glanced over at them, but Lucia kept her eyes on Cash.
Cash threw some cash on the bar. Thirty seconds later, they were in the backseat of the car the FBI had acquired for them. If anyone checked, it was registered to her alias, Lucy Harris.
Cash was on top of her and Lucia’s heart was pounding. Could someone have bugged her car while she was inside? Would they have to see this through or pretend to have sex?
She moaned and Cash sent her an inquisitive look. “A bug,” she mouthed.
He nodded. He slipped his hand from her knee to her thigh and stroked the inside of it. She shivered.
“Please, don’t make me wait. I’ve been waiting all night.” If they were putting on a show, she would put on a show.
“That’s what I love about you, Luc. You’re insatiable.”
She giggled and Cash removed his jacket, rumpling it for sound effects. He pulled out his wallet and removed a condom. A condom? Why did he have that? He tore it open and then set it on the floor.
“Oh, Cash, that feels so good. Harder. More, please.”
Cash swiveled his hips into hers. The car rocked rhythmically. “I want to make you feel good,” he said, the roughened sound of his voice exciting her.
She moaned. “Oh, right there.” This was supposed to be a show, but the sensations were real.
Cash had the moves. It was tight in the backseat of the car, but he made it work. How would she feel if he were making love to her?
He was giving her a preview and she liked what she saw and felt. “Don’t stop,” she said.
Then he kissed her. The touch of his lips to hers switched the situation from play-acting into the real thing. She was transported to a time when she was alone with Cash, not in the backseat of a car.
Emotions welled up inside her and her eyes filled with tears. Cash stopped. “Did I hurt you?” he asked. He went still and his body tensed.
“Everything feels so good.”
She could fake her orgasm and be done. She had a feeling that if she let Cash continue, her emotions would wrap around this and him and she would fall for Cash, hard and completely.
With his thumb, he brushed at the tear that ran down her cheek. He sat and pulled her up with him, adjusting her to sit on his lap. Then he kissed her, long and sweet and slow.
She wasn’t sure she understood the reason for the change. They’d been performing for anyone who might have been listening, but this was something else entirely. “What are you thinking about right now?” he asked.
“You and me in bed.”
She could read the questions in his eyes. He’d sensed her shift in emotion and was trying to find a reason for it. If the car was bugged, they couldn’t talk about it now, and even if it wasn’t, how could she explain how she felt?
Nothing she was feeling was part of their plan.
She was falling for Cash. Her crush was developing into something stronger, deeper and more potent. She returned his kiss and sank into it, letting herself live in the moment, sure that she wouldn’t find herself in this position again. It was too compromising.
She was an FBI agent. He was a criminal. The two did not meet on common ground.
* * *
Cash felt as though he was grappling for control. Lucia was in his arms, in his lap, kissing him, pressing her tight body against him. He wanted to grind into her, tear off her clothes and get inside her in a hurry.
They were being watched and this moment couldn’t unfold the way he wanted it to unless he had privacy. He reached forward across the front seats and put the keys in the ignition, turned on the car and blasted the radio.
If anyone had been listening with the volume up to hear their dialogue, they’d gotten their eardrums blown. It would serve them right to have their ears ring for a few minutes.
Lucia let out a loud sigh and then a moan. He guessed she sounded nothing like that when she was having an orgasm. Then he wondered exactly what she sounded like. Breathless? Intense? Out of her mind?
“That was great, Luc,” he said.
Lucia screwed up her mouth and he kissed her lips. “Round two at home?”
“I can always go another round with you.”
She was breathing heavily and she sounded unsure. What was she thinking? Was she worried about this mission? Shy about having fake sex in a car? He couldn’t read her emotions. They seemed to be bouncing all over the place. Reality and fantasy, real attraction and play acting, and in any given moment, he couldn’t sort them.
They arrived at her home an hour later, after doubling back several times to ensure they weren’t followed.
When she opened the door to her condo, he rushed her inside. Timing was everything and he believed in striking while the iron was hot. Something more was happening between them, and for the first time he sensed she was open to it. Really open. She wouldn’t shut him down as she had so many times before and she knew what this was about. They were partners in the field. They were friends. And now maybe something more.
Was she ready to admit they had some great chemistry between them?
“Are we going to do this?” he asked. “Actually do this?” He rocked his pelvis against hers leaving no question what he was referring to.
She stammered a few moments before she spoke. “In the car, that was pretend.”
He wouldn’t let her emotionally pull away again. “Bull. You felt something.”
She said nothing. Didn’t deny it.
“You are so hot. You got me going in that car, but I can walk away if you tell me this isn’t what you want,” he said. It had been years since he’d had sex and he could do without it another night. But could he go another night without Lucia?
She remained silent.
“You have five more seconds and then I’m making a judgment call.”
He made it to two and then he was kissing her. “I want to kiss you everywhere. I want to hear how you sound when you come. I want you to come with me inside you.”
Lucia’s eyes were half closed with desire. She tugged at his tie and threw it to the ground. “How do you manage to look this good? Don’t you ever have an off day?”
He slid his hands under her butt and she jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist. He set her on the bar stool near the breakfast counter. She was the perfect height. He lifted her dress and bit back a groan.
She was wearing a thong. He pushed it to the side and slid his finger down her body and between her parted thighs. A brush of his fingers and he found her hot and wet. “Are you thinking about me? About what it will be like when I take you?”
Lucia nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it since that first kiss.”
That long? “The anticipation will be worth it.”
He pushed his fingers deeper inside her. She let her head fall back and a moan escaped. She was ready, but he wanted to draw this out and show her that he was more in her life than a quick screw.
He let his fingers build her into a frenzy. When she was gasping with need, he dropped to his knees and brought his mouth to her. Stroking, probing, she jerked against him. With one finger inside her and then another, he set a hard, fast pace. He kept one hand on her to keep her balanced on the stool.
“I love the sounds you make when you like how I’m touching you,” he said.
She was on the brink of release. The bar stool knocked against the wall. He needed her to let go.
“Cash,” she
whispered.
His name and a surrender. Her body convulsed with pleasure and he gathered her close to him as her climax eased.
Cash lifted her and carried her to the bedroom. He set her on the bed.
She took the sides of her dress and pulled it over her head, flinging it to the ground. He didn’t make a move to undress.
“Aren’t you expecting a turnabout?” she asked.
He shook his head. “That isn’t what this is about.”
She rose to her knees and beckoned with her finger. “You were showing off, then.”
He laughed and came to the bed. She unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall off his shoulders. Next came his belt and then she undid his pants. He shucked them off quickly and she rotated over him.
Her mattress was at his back and he waited, anticipation building. Without warning, she lowered herself and sucked him into her mouth.
Her tongue worked the head of his arousal and her hands moved in sync with the up-and-down movement of her mouth. Everything she was doing felt great. She was strength and sexiness, and watching his arousal disappear into her mouth was an image he wouldn’t forget. He came quick and hard.
Lucia moved beside him and rested her head on his chest.
Cash tried to process what had happened. He hadn’t slept with a woman since his wife. Though thinking of Britney now felt strange, it was alarming that he didn’t feel as if he’d betrayed her.
Cash had been attracted to Lucia from the start. She was his type with an edge. Classy, beautiful, sophisticated and charming, but tough as nails. An FBI agent was an improbable choice for a lover, but she was the complete package.
“Want to sleep over?” Lucia asked.
He was thrilled she hadn’t made excuses or asked him to leave. He did. Very much. “Sleep? No. But I’ll stay.”
* * *
Lucia was stark naked next to him and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. She ran her fingers down his bare chest. “Tell me your brilliant plan for acquiring Mrs. George Watson.”
“It relies on you,” Cash said.
Lucia lifted her brow. “To do what?”