by C. J. Miller
Lucia reclined against the seat and Cash wished she would recline on him. But with Benjamin around, they had boundaries.
Another thought came to mind. Anytime someone else was around, he and Lucia would have boundaries. The only time they could be themselves was when they were alone.
The thought put a damper on his adrenaline high. He had finally met a woman who understood him, who challenged him and who he could really fall for, but he knew it would never work.
Chapter 8
Lucia handed Cash a glass of champagne. She hadn’t seen the night sky so alive with stars and lights. The view from her balcony was extraordinary. “A toast. To new skills and new partners.” She was trying to keep her thoughts on the case, but seeing Cash in a black robe with nothing beneath was titillating her senses.
Working a theft with him had been exciting. High-risk, adrenaline pumping and she had loved being his partner.
Cash slid his arms around her. “You know what I’m in the mood for now?”
“If you say pizza, I’ll be disappointed.”
“Pizza would be great. But after.” He took a few steps away from the railing. “I want to have some fun with you.” He kissed her, hard and deep, and walked her toward the open doors to her condo. “Take off all your clothes,” he whispered.
“The door is open.”
“No one can see us,” Cash said, helping her with his request but lifting the hem of her shirt.
“I have a stalker, remember?”
Cash ran his nose along her jaw. “No one is watching us now. If your stalker could see us, he would take a shot at us.”
“That’s not comforting.”
“Let me make it up to you.” Cash banded his arms around her. “Your skin is soft and always smells so good. How do you do that?”
“One of my trade secrets as a woman.”
“You want to know one of my secrets?” he asked.
“I guess you have many.”
“That’s correct. But this secret involves you.”
Her body overreacted to his words and his touch. “Tell me,” she said.
“When I first met you, I wanted to strip you naked and have you in the conference room.”
No one had ever spoken to her this way and it turned her on. “We had friction when we met.”
“What you call friction, I call heat.”
She was naked in the doorway to her balcony and not concerned about it. Cash inspired that confidence. He was cool and relaxed and devastatingly sexy. He pulled her to the floor, reaching to the couch and grabbing a pillow for behind her head. “If this was a bearskin rug, I could make this a cliché.”
“I don’t want a cliché,” she said. She didn’t want red roses and chocolates. She desired something more. Could Cash provide her version of happiness? He wasn’t a cookie cutter of the men she’d dated before. He had so many talents, some of his best related to the pleasure he was giving her.
He reached between her legs and his eyes shot from the apex of her thighs to her face. “You like this.” He ran his finger slowly along her sensitive skin.
“Of course I do.”
“Did you want to sleep with me when we met?” he asked.
“Most women probably think about having sex with you at some point.”
“That’s not answering my question,” he said.
He ran his fingers up and down. When she lifted her hips, he pulled them away. “Tell me.”
Coercion. “Yes, of course I did.”
She was rewarded for her honesty. He plunged his fingers inside her and she cried out as a fierce orgasm ripped through her. “You must have liked the heist,” he said.
She had. “I shouldn’t have. I’m an FBI agent. I should find the idea repulsive.”
“Should is a difficult word,” Cash said.
He produced a condom from somewhere and slid it on. Without more foreplay, he slid inside her, one slow, smooth glide.
She opened her legs farther apart, making room for him. He slipped his hands under her, lifting her hips and seating himself deeper. “You make me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time.”
Lucia believed that most men said a lot of things during sex that they didn’t mean. Not lies exactly, more like excited utterances. Cash was a con man. He might say things that were true in the moment and he might say things that would make this better for her. Could she believe him?
“Hey,” he said. “Look at me.”
She met his gaze.
He’d stopped moving. “You’re thinking too much. You won’t enjoy this if you can’t let go. Do you want me to stop?”
She shook her head. “It’s hard for my mind to keep up with my body.”
He moved slowly. “I loved the noises you made when you came before. I want to hear that noise again while I’m inside you. Even if I have to work for it all night.”
Lucia took the sides of his robe and pulled it off his shoulders. “I want to look at you.” She had some demands of her own.
Cash swiveled his hips, rocking inside her. He had rhythm and style, and his body coaxed pleasure from hers.
He lowered his mouth to her nipples and sucked one, then the other.
She felt another orgasm just out of reach.
“When we were leaving the museum, I wished I would have had time to make love to you there. A beautiful woman among beautiful things.”
Whether it was the words make love or the reminder of the excitement they’d shared earlier that night, her body tipped over the summit. Cash joined her, his body going tight a moment before he closed his eyes and his body pulsed inside hers.
They lay on the floor of her living room, in the least likely place she could think to have sex with someone. Cash rolled to his side, taking her with him.
“Are you feeling a little high?” Lucia asked.
“From the heist? Or sex?” he asked, then chuckled. “Never mind. The answer is the same. Yes to both.”
Lucia rested her head on his chest. Cash wasn’t jewelry and five-star restaurants. His affection came in a more humble package. A package that was real and honest, two words she wouldn’t have thought would describe Cash so accurately.
Her phone vibrated. It could be Benjamin with a follow-up about the theft. Stifling a groan, Lucia untangled herself from Cash and checked it. She was stark naked and felt Cash watching her. She grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around herself.
Benjamin had texted her and she relayed the message. “It’s Benjamin. The news of the robbery already hit the media.”
“That was fast,” Cash said.
“We wanted fast. Do you think Anderson knows?”
“Most definitely. I told him to expect the delivery tomorrow at 6:00 a.m. I don’t disappoint.”
Lucia let her gaze wander down his naked body. He certainly didn’t.
* * *
Lucia was wearing a short purple minidress as they walked toward their meeting with Mitchell. “I think this dress is riding up as I walk.” She tugged at the hem, cursing the cheap fabric. Next time she had to play this role, she would splurge for her own clothes. Even if she only wore them once, at least she could control the hemline.
“As much as I’d like another eyeful of your bare rear end, I’m feeling a little more possessive now that we’re in public. Would you like my jacket?” he asked.
“I’m supposed to be comfortable in my clothes and it’s not cold enough to need your jacket,” she said.
“Have you spoken to Audrey since we saw her at the casino?” Cash asked.
“I did. I asked her about what she had been up to the last couple of weeks, but she was evasive, which is strange. Normally, she’s happy to share every detail about her nights out.”
/> “Do you think she’s involved with Anderson?” Cash asked.
Lucia wasn’t sure what to think about seeing Audrey at the casino. The further they sank into Anderson’s world, the more connected the players became. “Audrey isn’t a criminal. She has no reason to be.”
“Some people like the thrill of it, not the money,” Cash said.
Lucia thought again of the previous night. During the theft, she had been in the zone in the same way she was during any operation and an element of excitement had pulled at her. “We’ll see. When Anderson gets his painting, it will put us closer to finding the money.”
Ten minutes later, Cash and Lucia were sitting in the back of an almost empty restaurant sipping coffee. Mitchell appeared and strode directly to them. He threw a newspaper on the table, almost knocking over Lucia’s coffee. She snapped up the cup before the hot liquid spilled on her.
Granted, it would have ruined the dress. But it was borrowed from the FBI’s closet and she planned to clean and return it. Plus, she thought Mitchell was rude. High ranking in Anderson’s organization or not, he was a thug and it showed.
“You pulled it off,” Mitchell said.
The front-page news was the theft at the American Art Museum. Lucia scanned the article. The security guard at the main desk had been interviewed and had claimed guns had been used to intimidate him. With nothing on their video or audio surveillance, the police had no evidence to prove otherwise.
Benjamin was keeping an eye on the investigation, trying to get an inside bead on anything the police were holding back from the media, such as the cameras had picked up a clue about the thieves.
“I told you I would.” The Franco copy of the painting was sitting on the seat next to Cash. He didn’t hold it up. Would Mitchell look at it right away? Would he know it was a fake?
Lucia took a sip of her coffee to have something to do with her hands. She didn’t want to say anything. Cash was handling the transaction. She had to keep reminding herself she was the dim-witted girlfriend.
“Who was your second?” Mitchell asked.
“What makes you think I had an accomplice?” Cash asked.
Mitchell slanted him a look. “I know a job like this.”
“I’m not giving away trade secrets. Considering how I landed in prison for the last con I pulled, you can understand that I’m keeping details close to my vest.”
Mitchell waited a few beats before nodding. Maybe he figured Cash wouldn’t give away anything else, but it didn’t matter. “If this checks out, I’ll let you know a time and place to meet. We’ve had to move from our previous location.”
Why? Had the FBI or local police raided the casino? Anderson had to be feeling jumpy. One mistake and his empire would come crashing down.
“Let me know,” Cash said. He stood up from the booth. Lucia did the same.
Mitchell tapped Cash’s chest with the rolled-up canvas. “If this is a con, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill her, I’ll kill your boy and I’ll kill your dad.”
Cash’s lip lifted in distaste. “Easy. I gave you what you wanted. Threatening me isn’t a good idea.”
Lucia hadn’t liked Mitchell before and she liked him even less now. But the painting was an expert copy. Given what they’d paid him, Franco should stand behind his work. But if Franco didn’t validate the Copley as authentic, Cash would be marked for death.
* * *
“Do you mind if I drop you at the office and visit my dad?” Cash asked as they drove toward the office.
Lucia was behind on her caseload and her filing. Cash might want private time to talk to his father. They weren’t certain how much his father knew about the Copley theft or Anderson’s organization. The closer Cash became with his father, the more answers they’d have.
“I have lots of paperwork to do. And I need to change out of this dress.”
“The look isn’t growing on you?” Cash asked.
Lucia rolled her eyes. “Not even a little. Women who can pull this off deserve more credit. I feel like I’m on display and borderline indecent. And don’t get me started on these shoes.”
“Believe it or not, you look good and you’re making it work.” He reached across the console and squeezed her thigh.
Lucia wished they had time to stop at her condo, but with Cash on the GPS, Benjamin may wonder what they were doing and Lucia did not want to have that conversation with her boss. Now that she and Cash had crossed the line into having, at best, an inappropriate interoffice relationship, she’d need to be careful.
Twenty minutes later, Lucia felt more like herself in her navy suit. She hadn’t finished one document when Benjamin called her into his office.
“Close the door please,” he said.
Immediately feeling uneasy, Lucia followed his direction. “Something wrong?”
Benjamin laid a report in front of her. “These are the GPS locations of Cash’s ankle monitor over the last several days. He’s been spending the night at your place.”
“That’s right,” Lucia said. It wasn’t anything new. Even before she and Cash had slept together, Cash had stayed over with her and she had told Ben about it.
She wouldn’t elaborate on the nature of their relationship on her personal time. Benjamin wouldn’t approve. The FBI had policies on relationships with coworkers and she didn’t need to give Benjamin a reason to write her up or fire her.
“I also have a copy of a report indicating that you and Cash seem intimate.”
A report from Jonathan Wolfe? It was the closest Benjamin had come to admitting he’d had Lucia followed.
“We’re in character and we’re making progress toward finding Clifton Anderson.”
“Is that it? Because I’ve noticed something, too,” Benjamin said. “Something between you two. I won’t jeopardize this case. If you can’t be objective, then I need to find someone who can.”
He wanted to pull her from the case and maybe even white collar. Lucia stayed calm. An overreaction on her part would make Benjamin’s case for him. “I know the players. I’ve been with Cash inside the casino. If you switch me out, Mitchell will have questions.”
“Can you be objective about Cash? If he flips on us, if he tries to con you, will you see through it?” Benjamin asked.
Question and doubts tumbled over her. Was Cash playing her? “What’s going on, Benjamin? Do you know something about Cash that I need to be aware of?” Call him out on it. Make him justify his reasons for questioning her. When she had worked in violent crime, she had taken implications and rumors and accusations quietly. She wouldn’t do the same now. She was a good, hardworking agent. She deserved the benefit of the doubt that she knew what she was doing.
Benjamin leaned forward. “I have reason to believe that Cash is planning to run.”
Doubts pricked at her, but she checked her response. No impulsive emotional reactions. “Why would you think that?”
“He’s reached out to his son.”
Cash hadn’t hidden that from her. He’d even asked to use her phone to call his son. “I need more than that to believe Cash wants to run. What parent wouldn’t call and talk to their child when they could?”
“He’s been looking into purchasing a plane ticket. One way. For himself to Bhutan. Bhutan, a country without extradition laws.”
Cash had looked at these sites from work? How sloppy did Benjamin think Cash was? “If he was planning to run, he’d be careful. He wouldn’t surf travel sites from work.”
“He was careful. He used a computer at a public library.”
She had questions, but wasn’t ready to believe any of this. “If you believe Cash is planning to run, why haven’t you returned him to prison?”
“We need him.”
“I know what I’m doing. I’m being a friend to Cash,” Lucia said. �
�He’s better at his job when he isn’t sleeping in a crack den.”
Benjamin fixed his gaze on her. “You had better be right Lucia. I’ve had reasons to question your judgment, but I’ve given you some leeway.”
What was he implying? “When have I exhibited poor judgment?”
“You were promoted out of violent crime, but it seemed like there was more to the story than a simple promotion. I heard rumors about problems with the team there.”
Rumors? Problems? “I did my job in violent crime,” she said. She was in a tough position. She had no facts to prove she had been moved because her former boss was a chauvinist and badmouthing him made her look bad. But if Benjamin wanted to question her about rumors, how could she defend herself?
“Just be aware that I’m watching you. Both you and Cash. Don’t step out of line.”
* * *
Cash opened the flimsy screen door and tapped on the wooden front door of his father’s house. He heard his father moving around inside. He opened the door with a smile on his face.
“Cash.” His father seemed genuinely pleased to see him.
“I wanted to check to see how you were feeling,” Cash said. After the drive-by at the restaurant and his father’s heart scare, Cash had been worried.
His father touched his rib cage. “Better every day. Where’s your lady?”
“She had a nail appointment.” He was impressed with his quick thinking.
“She’s quite a woman.”
Cash nodded.
“Different from Britney.”
Wyatt hadn’t spent much time with Cash’s late wife. Britney hadn’t liked Cash’s father for the same reasons she hadn’t liked her own.
Cash had turned away from his father because the life that Britney had offered was better than the life he’d grown up with. She was eleven years older than he was, and that age difference had made her seem wiser. Though she’d been living with her mother most of her life, she understood the world where Cash and his father lived. She had been a way out of something he’d never enjoyed. “Lucy’s one of a kind.”