Taken by the Con Read online

  When the shower shut off, Lucia heard Cash moving around the bathroom. She imagined him towel drying his hair and it standing on end. He’d rub the towel over his big body and pull on his clothes.

  Lucia concentrated on the low hum of the shower fan. When it clicked off and the door to the bathroom opened, she waited. She was lying stock-still on her bed, her muscles aching and a mild headache pulsing at her temples. If Cash went into the living room and crashed on the couch, that would be enough distance between them.

  Her toes curled thinking of another option. What if he came into her bedroom? Would he say anything to her? Would he lie on her bed with her?

  She forced her mind back to the case and off the sexy man in her place. She thought of her friends who needed the money from their plundered pension accounts at Holmes and White. One of Anderson’s victims was a retired police chief who had taken her under his wing early in her life, guided her through her education and written a glowing recommendation for her application to the FBI. He was counting on her to find the money or he’d need to return to work. Since he had a permanent hip injury that limited his movements, he couldn’t return to the force and instead of enjoying his retirement, he’d be forced into a low-paying job he’d likely hate.

  Lucia had sent his wife some money to make ends meet, but she couldn’t supplement everyone who needed their funds returned.

  Mentally reviewing the case facts, she searched for an important detail she may have missed.

  Her phone rang, pulling her away from her thoughts. Taking her phone from her bedside table, she winced when she saw her father’s name on the screen.

  “Hey, Dad,” she said, clearing her throat, trying to inject some energy into her voice.

  “How are you feeling? I called the hospital and asked to be transferred to your room. They said you had been discharged. Is everything okay? That seems like a short stay for a bombing victim.”

  “I was only hit by some debris. I’m fine. Admitting me was routine. They wanted to monitor me.”

  “They admitted you to the hospital. That’s serious. Doctors don’t give away a bed unless they have a medical concern.”

  Her parents didn’t approve of her career choice and this latest incident highlighted the reasons.

  “It was a precaution. I have the best doctors looking after me.” She even had follow-up appointments with specialists, most of which she planned to keep.

  “I hope this proves that the fears your mother and I have for your health and safety are not in our heads. When your boss called and told me you’d been injured, it was the most panicked I’ve been in years. Quit that job. Give your resignation immediately. You don’t need the money. You don’t need that job.”

  She did need her job. Try as she might, she could not get her parents to understand that. It wasn’t about the money. “I’m sorry you were scared. I was scared, too. But it’s okay. I’m okay.” She wouldn’t delve into the details of the bombing. It was an active investigation and the FBI was controlling what was released to the public.

  Her father wasn’t ready to let it go. She gave him another five minutes and then interjected.

  “Could we talk about this later? I’m tired.” She wouldn’t tell her father about the man who’d tried to get into her room at the hospital. Lucia could practically hear her father’s teeth grating together. “Please don’t worry about me. I’ll call you later.”

  “Are you coming to brunch Sunday?” her father asked gruffly.

  “Yes, Dad. I’ll see you then.” She said goodbye and disconnected the phone, setting it on her bedside table. Huntington family brunch was something she tried to attend at least twice a month, once if her schedule was crammed. She loved her family but sometimes they drove her crazy. They had expectations she couldn’t meet and they didn’t understand her life choices. They almost seemed more willing to her accept her sisters’ lack of direction over Lucia’s career.

  And yet their approval meant something to her. Not fitting in at work was one thing. But being rejected by her parents was even harder to live with.

  Cash appeared in the entryway to Lucia’s room. A strand of hair hung over his forehead. He was wearing a pressed pair of gray pants and a white T-shirt. It looked great on him.

  “Did I wake you?” he asked.

  “I wasn’t sleeping. Too much to think about,” Lucia said. As her suspect list faded, Cash’s presence came into sharp focus.

  “Can I ask you a personal question?” he asked.

  She tensed. When she was alone with Cash, their relationship slid from professional to personal too quickly. “You can ask. I may not answer it.”

  “What does your father do?”

  Red flags went up. “Why are you asking?”

  “He was in the ER for two minutes and he had you moved to a private room. And this place is too expensive for an FBI agent’s salary.”

  Lucia took a deep breath and sat up, wincing as the pain in her leg renewed. Her father’s identity wasn’t a secret. Everyone on the team knew she came from money. It didn’t hurt for Cash to know it, as well. Since she knew what his father did, inquiring about hers was fair play. “My father is a partner in a successful legal practice. He gave me this condo because he wanted me to have a safe place to live.” She waited for a look of disgust. Some people begrudged that she’d had an easy life, at least financially. From the outside, it seemed like greener pastures. Sometimes it was, sometimes it wasn’t.

  “I picked up some dinner,” he said.

  “That’s it? No follow-up questions?” she asked. Usually people wanted to know more about her family or had some negative comment about her lifestyle, sometimes implying she’d been handed everything she had or that she hadn’t worked for her position in the FBI. Her career was the one thing in life she had earned herself. It was part of why she became so prickly when it wasn’t going well. It made her feel like a failure.

  “I get the picture,” he said.

  He said it as if knowing she came from money explained everything about who she was. Old insecurities rose up. “What picture is that?” Her being a brat? Spoiled? Out of touch with the world?

  “Your family has money and consequently you have nice things.”

  It didn’t sound like judgment. Just a statement. “Why does that matter?” she asked.

  “It doesn’t,” Cash said. “But based on how annoyed you’re getting with me about it, I’m guessing you’re accustomed to a certain reaction that I’m not giving you. What is my reaction supposed to be?”

  She didn’t know what it was supposed to be, only that she was surprised he seemed not to care. Lucia was careful not to overreact. “I’ve worked hard to get where I am with the Bureau. My father doesn’t have any influence on my job. My career is my own.”

  Cash regarded her with curiosity in his eyes. “That’s why you’re uptight at work.”

  Outrage struck her. “I am not uptight at work.”

  “You’ve taken on the paperwork for the team. You look for missed dots on i’s and crosses on t’s.”

  “That wasn’t my choice. I was assigned that responsibility,” Lucia said. It grated that he thought she enjoyed looking for mistakes on bureaucratic waste-of-time paperwork. Her “promotion” to white collar was hardly that.

  “You have a list of rules and you follow it. It’s black and white to you because shades of gray scare you.”

  She had professional standards. What successful person didn’t? His assessment that she was uptight stung. “I play by the rules.”

  “But the criminals you’re trying to take down don’t. That puts you at a disadvantage.”

  “But I have you. You’ll break the rules. That puts me back on an even playing field.” Too bad she hadn’t had Cash around when she worked in violent crime. She had been so careful not to make mistake
s, but they’d kicked her out another way. Cash would have been slicker.

  Cash laughed. “I bend the rules. I don’t break them.”

  He lay next to her on the bed. It was a bold move, but she knew he hadn’t done it to take advantage of her. He was being a friend.

  “Let me sleep here with you,” Cash said.

  Not possible. How could he suggest it? “No. I have a rule about that.” She threw his words back at him. “You can crash on the couch tonight if you want.” She wouldn’t send him back to the crappy motel. She could call Benjamin and explain.

  “It means a lot to me that you’re letting me stay here, even temporarily. It’s much nicer than the Hideaway.”

  The frank admission struck her. Her bull-crap meter was well honed from years of listening to suspects and criminals lie. It wasn’t going off now. Cash was a really good liar. Was he telling her the truth now?

  Her stomach growled when she caught a whiff of the food Cash had brought. “How did you disable and re-enable the alarm?”

  “Don’t pick such an obvious access code,” he said.

  He’d guessed the number: the date she had been made an FBI agent. Was she that obvious? Cash must have done his homework on her. “Nice guess,” she said.

  He didn’t ask why she had picked that date. “Come on. Let’s eat while it’s hot.”

  “Is eating here okay?” she asked. Her leg hurt too much to move around.

  “Whatever you prefer,” Cash said. He left the room and returned with two bottles of water from the kitchen. He set them on her bedside table. He placed the brown paper bags of food on her bedspread. “I stopped by the security office. I pointed out a few security flaws in the building and he promised to address them. I’ll make sure that he follows through on it.”

  Lucia rearranged her pillows as an ache spread across her leg. She tried to find a more comfortable position to take the strain off it.

  Cash twisted the top off her water and handed it to her. “How can I make you more comfortable?”

  “I’m not sure. Everything hurts,” she said.

  “Do you need another pain pill?” he asked.

  Lucia shook her head. “I don’t want too many meds in my system. I’m returning to work Monday.”

  Cash dimmed the lights and turned on the wireless speakers connected to her music player. Soft instrumental music piped through the room. “Did you make an appointment with the Bureau’s shrink?”

  “I sent him an email,” she said. “How about you?” They were both required to be assessed by the Bureau’s psychologist before returning to work.

  “I’ll talk to him Monday,” Cash said.

  “You like this music?” she asked. She wouldn’t have guessed he was a fan of orchestral music.

  “It relaxes you. You need to relax. It will make your leg hurt less.” He handed her a plate.

  She reached for the food and flinched when the movement pulled at her stitches.

  “Let me help you get more comfortable.” He wrapped his right arm around her waist and shifted her. Intimacy zinged between them and Lucia turned her head at the same moment he looked down at her. Their gazes connected and Lucia felt her body melting into Cash’s. Heat burned a path where their bodies touched. The ache in her leg was a dim sensation compared to the sultry hum of anticipation that pricked at her.

  “Lucia—”

  “I don’t think—”

  They’d both started speaking at the same time. Cash nodded at her to continue. When he said her name, it had communicated he had feelings for her. Either that or he was manipulating her and doing it well.

  He said nothing and watched her with soulful eyes.

  “I don’t think we should do this.” She pulled away from him and felt the immediate loss of pleasure.

  “Ignoring what’s happening between us won’t make it go away,” Cash said.

  “I’m not ignoring it,” Lucia said. “I’m just hungry.”

  “Then you feel it, too?” Cash asked.

  Lucia took a long drink of her water. What should she say? Being blunt could diffuse some of the sensations or could open the door to others. Playing relationship games weren’t her strong suit. “I didn’t say that.” She’d hedged and she was disappointed in herself. Being blunt and honest were traits she admired.

  “I’m looking for a new place to live,” Cash said.

  Glad he had changed the subject, Lucia relaxed. “That’s great.” She was happy to hear he was moving out of that dump.

  Events of the past couple of days had forced her to reevaluate her initial impression of Cash. Though she hadn’t once seen it in other ex-cons, maybe Cash was reformed. Maybe he wouldn’t return to his old ways. Most felons found it too easy to return to their lives of crime. Operating in the legal world required skills and sacrifice and some offenders couldn’t understand how to assimilate.

  “Hard to believe, but I won’t spend any more time in the place I’m living than I have to. I’ll move as soon as possible. Maybe by the end of the month.”

  Lucia shifted away. Being close to him was like being too close to a fire. Beautiful and bright and captivating, but she’d be burned if she wasn’t careful. “I wanted to thank you for what you did at the scene and at the hospital.”

  His brow pleated. “I did what any partner would do.”

  He had a sense of commitment and dependability she hadn’t expected. For the first time in a long time, she felt like someone had her back.

  Cash put some food on his plate. “I hope you don’t mind. I called Benjamin to check in. He thinks it might be a good idea for me to call Georgiana and see if I can pull anything more out of her about Hammer’s assistant, Kinsley. They reviewed the interview with Georgiana and it wasn’t helpful.”

  Imagining Cash with Georgiana bothered her immensely. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? We don’t know how she’s involved with this.”

  “You think Georgiana set the bomb?” Cash asked, appearing to consider it.

  The woman didn’t seem like the type who could wire a bomb. She barely seemed capable of performing her duties as a glorified secretary. They hadn’t heard from the bomb squad so they didn’t know the details of how it had detonated, but Lucia couldn’t picture Georgiana planting it. She could be protecting her employers or working for Anderson, but it seemed like a stretch.

  Then again, looks could be misleading. “Unlikely. But we have to be careful.”

  Cash grinned and pulled her tight against him. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t want to. He was a criminal working on the side of the law, he was gorgeous and silver tongued, and yet he was loyal and decent and had layers she had only begun to discover.

  “Lucia?”

  “What?” She turned her head toward him.

  “I find it sexy that you’re jealous.” Cash brought his mouth down on hers before giving her a chance to respond.

  “I am not jealous,” she said against his mouth.

  Cash laughed again and turned his full attention to a fierce, demanding kiss. Lucia slumped against him, giving in to it and giving in to him. Cash’s hands were strong and firm, and having them at her sides was both frustrating and arousing. This shouldn’t be happening, especially not in her bed.

  A knock on her front door made Lucia spring apart from Cash.

  “Lucia?”

  It was Audrey’s voice.

  Cash groaned. “If we’re quiet, she’ll leave.”

  Lucia climbed to her feet with Cash’s help. She smoothed her shirt and ran her fingers through her hair though neither was out of place. Audrey was a genius at intuiting when a man and woman were sleeping together and Lucia didn’t want her to get the wrong idea about her and Cash.

  They hadn’t slept together. Not even close. Cash had kissed her. Twic
e. That was the end of it.

  Lucia hobbled to the door, peered through the peephole, disabled her security system and opened her front door. Almost feeling guilty, she turned on more lights.

  Audrey looked over Lucia’s shoulder and smiled conspiratorially. “Am I interrupting something?”

  Audrey was the closest person to a friend Lucia had in DC. It was hard not to like Audrey. She was warm and outgoing. Lucia opened the door wider. “No, please come in. Audrey this is—”

  “We’ve met. On the stairs a few days ago,” Audrey said, giving Cash a once-over, her gaze lingering.

  Did every woman feel compelled to stare at or flirt with Cash? It was a wonder he had any moves. Lucia guessed women just took off their clothes and climbed into his bed, making it easy.

  Audrey faced Lucia. “I wanted to be sure you were okay and to check if you needed anything before I head out for the night.”

  Like Lucia, Audrey was a trust-fund baby, but unlike Lucia, Audrey didn’t have a full-time job. She sometimes joked her full-time job was to avoid the media whenever possible because every time her picture appeared in a gossip rag, her dad took away one of her credit cards. He almost always gave them back.

  Audrey gave Lucia a long look. “My mom saw yours today and your mom mentioned you weren’t feeling well.”

  Lucia wished her mother wouldn’t talk about her to her friends. She was concerned, but Lucia hadn’t been comfortable in her parents’ social world where everyone seemed to know everyone else’s business. A little privacy in her line of work was preferred. “I’m doing fine. I had a little accident at work. Thanks for checking. Where are you headed tonight?” she asked, not wanting to linger on the details of her “accident.”

  Audrey smiled. “A friend is taking me to the opening night at a club. Invite-only, but that could mean half the city was invited.” She laughed. It was something Lucia liked about Audrey. Though she was from money and part of DC’s elite crowd, she wasn’t pretentious.

  “It looks like you two have a super-exclusive party already going on,” Audrey said.