Con Man: Complete Series Box Set: A Bad Boy Romance (19 page)

Despite everything he'd done, how far apart our lives now were, I still wanted the protection I knew he could give me. I wanted the life we should've had, and it killed me to know I'd never get it.

I sighed. Exhausted or not, it looked like sleep wasn't going to come easily tonight.

I
lay
on the couch after I heard her door close, staring up at the ceiling and replaying the last couple hours. She'd put a lot on the line, I knew, bringing me here. Hell, she'd risked a lot just by getting me a deal, having me assigned to her. I knew that if anyone at the FBI found out we knew each other, she could be in big trouble. I didn't want anything bad to happen to her, but that hadn't stopped me from almost kissing her.

She was so much stronger than I was. I'd seen in her eyes that she'd wanted the kiss, but she'd been able to stop it. Part of me wanted to hate her for it, for rejecting me, but I knew she was right. We didn't belong together, not anymore. Whatever chance we'd had to be something more to each other had disappeared the moment we'd been separated.

In the dim light, I looked around at her tiny apartment and thought of how much more she deserved. She deserved a real home, with a family. Based on what I could see, she was focusing on her career more than her personal life at the moment, but she still deserved to have someone to support her. I saw no evidence that she had a serious boyfriend, and I'd even snooped a bit in the bathroom to satisfy my curiosity. No extra toothbrush. No man's razor or toiletries. And no self-respecting man would've used the lilac-scented body wash I found. Though I supposed I'd have to use it when I showered tomorrow. My stomach twisted at the thought. I'd always associated that particular scent with Karis, and now it would be everywhere.

It still caught me off-guard how much she affected me. After that first kiss, I'd tried to convince myself that all I needed was closure, that I was holding on to someone who wasn't real. The entire time in the interrogation room, I'd reminded myself that I didn't really know her, not the person she'd become.

Then we'd left, and I'd found myself almost pretending that this was real. I knew I wasn't imagining the attraction, but I also knew that we were too different now. We'd lost our chance.

It didn't make me want her any less though.

I sighed and tried to focus on something else.

The city outside hadn’t quite settled down for the night. The occasional siren went off as various emergency vehicles sped by, sending flashes of red and blue into the small room. Floorboards overhead creaked as someone walked from one room to the other. A couple a few doors down had a fight. A baby cried. A toilet flushed. All sounds that were familiar to those who lived in apartments with thin walls.

I, however, was used to fancier accommodations. I'd gone from living on the streets to the lap of luxury when Uaine found me. Even after I left him, I hadn't left behind his taste for the finer things in life.

Karis deserved those things, and a part of me wished I could be the one to introduce her to them. Five-star hotels. White sand beaches. Quality resorts. First-class flights and the finest champagne.

Sleep claimed me while I was still thinking of all the things I wanted to do with her, for her.

W
aves crashed
on the beach under a beautiful star-filled night sky. Karis and I lay together on a blanket, basking in the white-blue light of a full moon.

“I wish we could stay here forever,” she said, leaning her head on my shoulder.

“You can’t do that without taking a chance on me first,” I told her. “Let me take care of you like I always should have.”

I wrapped my arms around her and held her against me. I could feel her doubt, her reluctance...but I could also feel her desire. Some of it was sexual, but it went deeper than that. For the first time, I realized that I hadn't been the only one who'd suffered when we'd lost each other.

“It’s okay,” I murmured against her silky hair. “I’m here now. Nothing can stop us. Nothing’s going to tear us apart again.”

The water lapped against our feet. “The tide’s coming in,” she whispered. She pulled away, and I tried to keep her from leaving. The thought of not touching her sent a stab of panic through me.

Even as I reached for her, we were in our old tree house, moonlight spilling through the window. I knew it was impossible for the two of us to fit so comfortably inside a place that had been snug when we were kids, but somehow, we had plenty of room to move.

“Remember when we built this?” I asked her.

“How could I forget?” She laughed and looked around at the bare wooden walls, her gaze fond. “How long did it take us?”

“All summer.” I could almost feel the callouses I'd worked up.

“Sometimes it seems like we spent our entire childhood building this thing.”

She sat down between my legs and let me wrap my arms around her again. She settled back against my chest, and I marveled at how perfectly we fit together. I pressed my lips against her head and wondered how long it would be before I lost her again.

“Where did you go, Karis? How did we lose each other?”

She pulled my arms tighter around her. “I don’t know, Bron. I don’t know what happened.”

“I don't want to lose you again,” I murmured. “It almost killed me the first time. I don't think I could survive it again.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” she promised.

The world around us shifted again, and we were in her apartment, sitting on her couch as we did before. Except this time, she was in my arms. I waited for her to push me away, to tell me that this was a bad idea. That we were on opposite sides of the law. That too much had happened.

But she didn’t say anything, and neither did I. I wanted to blame myself for how far apart we’d drifted because it was hard not having anyone to blame for what had happened to our lives, but I knew that neither of us were to blame. At least not for what had taken us away from each other that first time. I'd made some bad choices, I knew, and I couldn't change them. The only thing I could do was focus on making things right from here on out.

“Are you going to leave me again?” Her voice was muffled against my chest. “Are you going to push me away?”

“Never,” I promised. “I’m here now, and the only way you’re getting rid of me is if you decide you have to lock me away.”

“Good, because I'm tired of doing this all by myself. I’ve needed you for so long, and you weren’t there.”

“I’m sorry for that.” I squeezed her. My throat tightened with the strength of the emotion I was feeling.

“The tide's coming in,” she repeated her previous statement even though this time, there were no waves. “And you have to choose the life you want.”

I wanted to tell her that it wasn't even a question, that I'd choose her. I'd always choose her.

Except a part of me wondered if I really would. Here, with her, it was easy to see how much I wanted her, needed her, but when I thought of what it would mean to choose her, my survival instinct balked. It told me to protect myself. To do whatever it took to stay out of jail. To keep her from having the chance to break my heart again.

I wanted a life with her, but I didn't know if that would be possible, no matter what I chose. Because no matter how much I wanted this to be real, I knew that it was only a dream, and I would have to wake up soon. Wake up and make a decision that would decide the course of the rest of my life.

A
fter a long
, restless night, I was ready to take a break from the case, but I also didn't want to sit around the apartment with Bron. Somehow, I figured that probably wouldn't be too smart, not after how close I'd come last night to letting him kiss me. After some consideration while I showered and dressed, I decided the National Museum of Art and Science would be a good start. Art seemed like a good subject to help me know more about the man Bron had become.

“I only see one security guard,” he commented as we entered.

I hadn’t even noticed, but I looked around to find the person in question. Sure enough, there was a single guard on duty, a heavy-set man in his mid to late thirties. His uniform was about a size too small, which told me he’d probably been slimmer when he started working for the museum, but too many days sitting at the security desk watching the cameras had started to show. And since he hadn't asked for a bigger size, he probably didn't have the best grasp on his own abilities. Or didn’t care.

Bron looked around the large open lobby as we entered the main room. “No way can he cover all of this.”

I glanced sideways. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Bron sounded a lot like he was casing the place.

“I don't think we need to worry about that.”

His eyes ran over me, lingering on my hip where I had my badge. I wasn't technically on the clock, but I wasn't taking any chances when it came to him. I'd also brought a gun; a small one strapped to my ankle. Just in case.

“And the cameras.” He didn't respond to my statement. “Have you noticed any cameras?”

I looked around again, but I couldn’t see any. “Doesn't mean they don't have any. Maybe they're hidden.”

“Maybe.” He didn't sound like he believed it. “But I doubt it. Most cameras are placed in plain sight to deter criminals.”

I wanted to comment that the cameras at the other museum hadn't stopped him, but I wasn't here to go over that. I needed to gain his trust, get to know the person he was now.

“I'll bet if you asked, they'd say they have cameras on the expensive exhibits because that's where the danger is.” He was starting to sound irritated. “But there are so many ways around those things. And Barney Fife over there doesn’t have a hell’s prayer of stopping anybody.”

After a moment of silence, he seemed to shrug off his annoyance, and the two of us moved into the main exhibition room. A dinosaur skeleton stood in the middle of the room, its long neck reaching up to the skylight. Different paintings hung on the surrounding walls. I didn't know much about art, but there seemed to be several different artists represented.

I stopped in front of one painting that reminded me of watercolors. “I like it.”

“Siegfried Anzinger,” he said.

“Who?”

“Austrian painter,” he continued. “Born 1953.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Impressive.”

He shrugged and gave me a hint of that charming smile. “Uaine could've made a living as an art history professor.”

Before I could comment, he changed the subject. “There's the curator. Wonder if he can spot a criminal casing out his museum.”

He gestured toward an older gentleman in a navy blue suit standing underneath the front end of the dinosaur. His face beamed with pride as he greeted each person who entered. With his wire-rimmed glasses and kindly smile, he looked exactly like the sort of person who'd be in charge of a museum...but not someone who knew a lot about security.

I had a pretty good idea of what Bron was doing now. He wasn't actually casing the place. He was looking for weaknesses, sure, but not so he could exploit them. Something in my gut told me that he was trying to show me that he could use the skills he'd learned in a positive way.

That he could change.

Or, at least, I hoped that was what he was doing.

“What about this room?” I asked him. He seemed pretty intent on heading over to the curator, but I wanted to know more before I let him talk to anyone.

He paused and looked around. “There’s one camera facing the entrance here,” he said. “I don’t see anything else. Security in this place is worse than I thought.” He looked at me and shrugged. “You’d think if they could afford this kind of art, not to mention a full dinosaur, they could afford better security. Kinda makes me wonder if their board knows how their funding's spent.”

“You’re serious about this.” I made it a statement.

“I’m dead serious.” His tone hardened. “I know it’s not every day that someone like me walks into a museum and lifts a multi-million dollar piece of art, but it happens often enough to be a real threat, and these guys aren’t taking it seriously at all. They could lose a lot.”

I searched my memory for a moment while he was talking but I couldn’t think of any recent thefts at this particular museum. “I don’t think it’s ever been a problem here,” I told him as I shrugged. “Maybe they don’t have anything worth taking.”

“They’re overdue, then,” he said as he walked up to the curator, forcing me to follow if I wanted to make sure he behaved himself.

The older gentleman was dwarfed by Bron but didn't seem intimidated. I had to admit, it said something about how charming he was that he could make someone feel comfortable even though he was that much bigger.

“I hope you’re enjoying your visit,” the curator said with a kind smile.

“Actually, there’s something I want to talk to you about.” Bron put his hand on the other man’s shoulder and walked him behind the dinosaur – an Apatosaurus according to the plaque.

“Is everything okay?” The curator sounded nervous and looked back to see if I was following. Apparently, he'd gotten a glimpse of my badge and knew I was one of the good guys.

“It’s your security,” Bron said with a brief glance in my direction.

“Oh, I assure you, our security system is top-notch,” the man said, sounding a bit offended.

Bron gave a laugh but didn't look at me when I stepped up behind him. I didn't say anything, waiting to see where he'd go with it.

“I'm sorry to say, your security is a bit outdated.” Bron poured on the charm again. “Sir, if you go back and look at the tapes from our visit, I guarantee you, you won’t see my face. Your cameras are too easy to avoid. Your one security guard probably can’t even see us right now. To him, it probably looks like you stepped away. Look.” Bron turned and pointed up to the camera focusing on the entrance, directing the curator’s gaze up to it as well. “From the angle and the style of camera, I know it’s safe for us to stand right here, and we won't be seen. At this point, I could easily convince you to turn over any piece of art or history that I wanted.”

The curator stared, his face pale.

“We’re with the FBI, sir.” I held up my badge as I stepped in front of Bron. “I apologize if he came across a bit...abrupt.”

The other man relaxed almost immediately. “Is this part of your investigation into the theft that occurred across town?”

“Yes, sir, it is.” It wasn't exactly a lie, but what I said next definitely was. “This gentleman is a security consultant we’ve brought in to help us analyze how the thief may have dodged their security systems. We’re doing a sort of field test today. But trust me, if he says you need to beef up your security, you should listen to him.”

“Thank you both,” he said, relief on his face. He looked up at Bron now, his expression one of admiration and complete trust. “You know, it was a real shame what happened at the other museum. How was their security?”

“Their security system really is top-notch. It’s incredibly difficult to break,” Bron answered easily, sounding like the expert I'd said he was. “The guy who hit that museum was an expert. We think he spent some time posing as an employee to figure out inside tricks to get around the systems in place.” He caught me looking at him, and I saw the moment he realized that what he was saying could be used against him. He turned back to the curator and kept going. “Anyway, if I had to explain it, I'd say that’s the only way he could have made it past certain safeguards they have in place.”

The older man looked like he was about ready to start wringing his hands. “Well, what do you suggest we do?”

Bron had his answers ready. “Cameras in every room, especially ones pointed directly at doorways. Don't spare any expense. Your board and insurance company will thank you for it. And hire more security. Better security. Unless you hire someone who is disabled, or there's a need to have someone at the desk to assist guests, you don't need security guards watching those cameras twenty-four-seven. Research shows that having them on the floor and actively engaged with your guests deters crime as much as it helps them to detect it. And for any rooms that are supposed to be secure, get some sort of keypad entrance – codes, fingerprint readers, iris scanners, it doesn’t matter. But don’t skimp on the cameras inside those restricted rooms. A lot can happen in there when no one is looking.”

I found myself staring at him. Damn. I'd known he was smart, known that he was good at what he did, but I hadn't fully grasped exactly what that meant until now.

Something twisted inside me as I finally realized just how differently his life could have gone, how much good he could've done.

“Well, thank you.” The curator stepped back and blinked, as if what he’d just been told was too much to take in at one time.

“We’re just doing what we can to help.” I nudged Bron's arm to make sure he didn't decide to elaborate and handed the curator one of my cards. “If you ever see anything suspicious or just want more advice, call me.”

The man gave me a grateful smile which Bron returned as he said, “Thank you for your time, sir. And may I say, you’ve done an excellent job with the collections here.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I grabbed his arm and pulled him after me. “What was that all about?” I hissed once we were out of ear-shot.

“What was what?” he asked, his face a perfect mask of innocence.

“You know what I mean.” I glared at him as we walked down the sidewalk. “You just cased the museum and then told him about it. Why? I thought you made your living exploiting weak spots in security systems like that.”

He chuckled. “I do...did. I could've hit this place in one night without even trying.” He shrugged. “Figured I should at least make the job challenging for the next guy.”

I let go of his arm as we reached the agency car. “Would it kill you to enjoy just going to the museum?”

“I’d starve.” He grinned at me. “And we wouldn't want that.”

I laughed as I climbed into the car, but I couldn't stop the uneasy feeling fluttering in my stomach.

I brought him here because I'd thought it'd be easier to keep it business. Get some insight into how Bron’s brain worked, and art had seemed like a good, impersonal way to do it.

I hadn't planned on seeing a side to him that made all of this even harder.