Conning for Keeps: A Novella

by Seleste deLaney

“And you killed him.” Trevor reached up and twined his fingers in her hair, tugging her toward him. He winced, but he didn’t let go until she was close enough to kiss. His mouth was right there, but he didn’t lean in. “He would have happily murdered us both. You saved us.”

  She was about to close the distance between them when a commotion in the hall brought her up into a shooting stance, Trevor’s fallen Glock in her throbbing hands. The faces that rushed in belonged to agents, though, and she let the gun sag, returning her attention to Trevor’s wound.

  “Oh fuck me sideways.”

  The familiar voice made Marissa’s head jerk up.

  Evangeline stood there, the skirt of her wedding gown torn down the front, silver Beretta in her grip. “The paperwork on this is so going to suck.”

  Chapter Ten

  Thank You For Loving Me

  The medics had come and gone, but not soon enough for Marissa. Now that they were back in their room, she wanted to wrap herself up in Trevor and disappear.

  Evangeline was sticking around, though, and TRAIT’s helicopter had touched down mere minutes before. Debriefing sounded like less fun than usual.

  Not Evangeline. Evelyn. That would take some getting used to. She totally didn’t fit Marissa’s image of an “Evelyn.” At least not until she tucked her feet beneath her on the couch, making herself small…much smaller than the person Marissa had gotten to know. Frankie Canalis strode in and passed her a cup of tea. His hand brushed over her shoulder as he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. Evelyn smiled and let out a tiny sigh. As he left, she caught Marissa’s gaze and cocked an eyebrow.

  “What?”

  “Franco… I don’t know what parts of you are real and what isn’t.”

  Trevor grunted assent from where he lay propped up on the bed.

  With a quiet smile, Evelyn glanced toward the door. “We’re real. Frankie and me. We planned for me to spill about the whole jumping ship thing to get me in tighter with his dad. Leo suspected, of course, but I was supposed to be the thing that would make his son—”

  The door swung wide, and a chill settled over the room, silencing the discussion. Josh stood there. Veins popped out on his neck, which was already turning a brilliant shade of red, and his fist clenched around a sheet of paper. “What the hell happened here?”

  Evelyn unfolded from the chair, setting down her tea, and practically snapped to attention. “I think I might be able to explain. I’m special agent Evelyn Buchanan and, for the last two years, I’ve been deep cover with the Canalis family. Frankie came to the FBI, wanting to turn evidence against his father, but we didn’t have enough so he agreed to help someone get in his father’s pocket. That’s where I came in. I had no idea another agency was running a sting during the wedding, though. Quite frankly, I’ve never heard of TRAIT. My boss, however, assures me you’re the real deal.”

  “That’s all well and good, but I want to know where the damn painting is and when Marissa became Marissa again.” The cloud shadowing his brown eyes meant he knew way more than he should.

  Shit.

  Marissa sucked in a deep breath, holding it until she had to let go. “Certain Laughter is gone. There was an incident with Canalis, and I burned it.”

  “What kind of incident?”

  “The kind where Trevor’s life was in danger.” Because of a gunshot wound and a curse. One I don’t believe in…at all. She squirmed under Josh’s gaze. Like when he’d first come to see her in juvie, it was as if the guy could see right into the deepest, darkest corner of her soul, making out the monsters in the blackness there. No one should be able to do that.

  “And the other part of my question?”

  She had no intention of throwing Trevor or anyone else under the bus here, and she knew Josh wouldn’t—couldn’t—blame her for anything that happened when she was under. With her lips tightly zipped, she looked at the bundle of blankets that was Trevor.

  The bundle moved as he shifted, sitting up straighter. “That’s my fault, sir. There was an incident, and I broke protocol and brought Marissa out early.”

  Josh eyed them both, only speaking when Marissa turned away. “You two are awfully fond of that word today. The nature of the incident?”

  Oh, hell no. They were not going to talk about this officially. It was the entire point of keeping it quiet through the mission. Marissa straightened. “Does it matter? The painting is gone. Canalis is dead. Who I was at what moment in time seems kind of a stupid point to poke at.”

  A storm raged in Josh’s eyes, and his lips pressed into a tight line while his hands smoothed out the paper he’d been clutching. “It matters when both of you idiots signed the marriage license with your real names.”

  They did what?

  Marissa shot off the bed and snatched the paper from his fingers. She couldn’t hear Trevor talking past the blood rushing through her brain. There, in crisp, clean script was her signature. Marissa A. Joens.

  Shit.

  And then the sharp points and harsh slants that read Trevor J. Harris. Her lips quirked.

  “Trevor, you have the handwriting of a serial killer.”

  “Is that really how you plan to talk to me, Mrs. Harris? I will write terribly naughty things all over your body.”

  It was only then she noticed Josh and the others had deserted the room, leaving them alone. “Where is everyone?”

  “While you were gaping at the license, our boss kindly decided we needed a few minutes to talk. Plus, my painkillers are starting to kick in. So, about that love letter on your skin…”

  She laid the marriage license on the table and smoothed it out with trembling hands before turning. “Love? You’re not even acting upset. It makes me kind of nervous. This isn’t a joke to me.” She didn’t know how to feel about the whole situation, and his response wasn’t helping any.

  “Come here.” He patted the bed next to him.

  Oh…this had trap written all over it. He’d had an excuse for signing the wrong name with how worried he’d been—how worried she’d made him. What was her justification? That she hadn’t figured out which side of the law she wanted to land on? That he’d been the person she’d really been conning with her whole made-up Valjean thing? That wouldn’t go over well, regardless of the fact she had chosen TRAIT…and him in the end.

  “Baby girl,” he said, somehow managing to make bandaged up gimp look sexy, “do not make me get up and come get you. I have a hole in my shoulder and bruises from someone trying to crush the blood out of it.”

  She ducked her head, trying to hide her blush. Hadn’t he brought up a few minutes ago that she’d saved his life? This was stupid. She wanted to be with him, so she stepped over to the bed and sat down, relaxing against his uninjured shoulder. “So you aren’t mad?”

  “About being married to an amazing con artist? Or about being married to a beautiful arsonist?”

  Giving a laugh, she jabbed him lightly in the stomach.

  His deep chuckle echoed hers, and he turned her head to brush a blazing hot kiss over her lips. “Considering how many things went wrong this week, this is the best possible messed-up outcome as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Really?” Marissa’s heart started fluttering, the kind of thing she read about in novels but had never experienced first hand. It was a sensation she’d been certain didn’t exist.

  “Really.” He kissed her again, lingering a bit longer this time. When she tried to take things deeper though, he nipped at her bottom lip. “We’ll have to file the annulment papers eventually, but…”

  “What?” But he said… How could he…?

  A deep growl rumbled through Trevor, making his chest vibrate. “Woman. If and when I marry your ass, we’re going to do it before God and all our friends. This…is a fun story for when we’re old and gray and stuck in some home for retired spies. That’s it.”

  “You think I’m actually going to be able to put up with you that long? You kind of snore.”

  “An
d you drool in your sleep. Everyone has issues.” He nuzzled her neck, trailing kisses up before he whispered in her ear, “I think I can put up with yours. And I dare you to put up with mine.”

  “Dare me? I don’t get the option for truth?” She ran her fingers down his chest and below the blankets to tuck them under his waistband.

  He shifted against the pillows and scowled at her. “There’s not going to be an option besides truth between us from now on, Valjean. So all I have left to challenge you with is dare.”

  “Fair enough.” She palmed his length, rubbing gently, and he let out a hissed curse. “Truth is, you’re my husband right now, and there are certain responsibilities…” She shimmied down the bed, taking the blankets with her.

  “I’d love to. You have no idea how much I’d love to. But the doctor advised me not to move my shoulder around or exert myself a lot today. Plus…pain killers.” He groaned as she gave his erection a squeeze.

  “Perfect. I’ll take care of everything.” In seconds, she had his pants undone and his cock free. She ran her tongue around the head, and he hissed a breath between his teeth. “I promise it won’t hurt, but I dare you to not move.”

  “Woman, you are the devil!”

  Marissa took him in her mouth as deep as she could and drew back slowly, watching his face the whole time. With the way his hands twitched, he wanted to touch her, but they were more alike than he’d ever admit.

  Too stubborn to fail at the ridiculous dare.

  She loved that about him.

  Hell, she loved everything about him, including his quiet snores and bouts of silence. Her tongue circled the head of his cock until he lay back against the headboard and closed his eyes, his breathing becoming more desperate.

  “Not today I’m not, but if you’re into the whole role-play thing, I’m more than happy to dive headfirst into whatever part you want me to.”

  “Only you,” he breathed. “Everything I’ve ever feared and all I ever wanted.”

  Just Marissa. The woman she hadn’t been sure she could be until she was left alone with him. The one she’d been too terrified to let loose. But he brought her out and showed Marissa she could do amazing things all on her own.

  The fear that she’d built for so long…it was the biggest con of all.

  All it took to destroy it was someone who wanted to see what lay beneath.

  The End

  Acknowledgments

  There are so many people who helped make this book ready for primetime, it’s not even funny. I appreciate every single one of you.

  Without my awesome beta readers, I’m sure this would never have made it past the slush pile, so huge thanks to Katee, Janelle, and Diane. My online writing group has always been a huge source of inspiration and support. Rebels forever. (Okay, Misfits, too.) Also I would have looked like a complete moron when it came to weapons without the knowledge shared by Ken and Jesse. Go Army! Oh yes, and everyone on Twitter who helped me with renaming people—you’ve no idea how much I appreciate the assist.

  I’ve been doing so much editor jumping lately, I was afraid this book wasn’t going to happen. Then Allison stepped up and proclaimed her love for TRAIT, and I almost cried. Getting edits from her is like opening a giant Lego set on Christmas. There’s a lot of work ahead, but I’m too excited to worry about it. I couldn’t ask for a better partner in crime…fighting. (Fictional crime fighting—our superhero uniforms haven’t come yet.)

  And there wouldn’t be an Agents of TRAIT series at all if not for Liz Pelletier, Heather Howland, KL Grady, and all the other awesome people at Entangled. I am incredibly blessed to be surrounded by such fantastic people and be part of such an amazing company. You all humble me every day.

  The biggest thank you, however, goes to my family—especially my children. They put up with my crazy hours and insanity and support me no matter what. You are what makes all the madness worth it. Every second. I love you.

  About the Author

  At a young age, Seleste discovered the trick to not being afraid of the monsters under the bed was to turn them into heroes. Since that time, she’s seen enough of human monsters that she prefers to escape to fictional worlds where even the worst demons have to play by the rules and the good guys might end up battered and bruised (or dead), but they always win. And really, isn’t that the way it should be?

  She is in the process of relocating to southeast Michigan with her two kids (and a pair of fierce, attention-hungry slobber-monsters of her own) and is hard at work on her next book. In those rare moments when she isn’t battling terrorists, vampires, or rogue clockworks, she can be found all over the Internet, where she loves to interact with readers.

  To that end, you can find her at:

  Website: http://www.selestedelaney.com

  Tumblr: http://selestedelaney.tumblr.com

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/AuthorSelestedeLaney

  Twitter: www.twitter.com/SelestedeLaney

  Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/SelestedeLaneyAuthor

  Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/selestedelaney/

  We hoped you enjoyed this sweet romance

  from Entangled Publishing.

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