Con With Me Page 6

  "You are important," Dean protested.

  "I never said I wasn't. But we don't have the time for that right now. Let's focus on warming up the last mark." At least I assumed there was only one more for me to deal with, it seemed too risky to introduce me to yet more people. Maybe in the future, but not now.

  "That'd be with me." Samuel held up his hand.

  "I guessed. What have you got for me?"

  The three of them exchanged glances. Whatever they said next, I was almost certain I wasn't going to like it.

  "I need you to pretend to be a high priced call girl called Ines." Samuel shuffled from side to side, clearly not entirely comfortable with the situation.

  I choked on my laughter. "So you don't just look like a pimp..."

  "Yes, I'm acting the pimp too," he admitted sheepishly. "We're not going to expect you to actually sleep with someone," he started.

  "I guessed. I take it this is a quick scam?"

  "Not as quick as you think. It's actually one of our most successful plays," Dean assured me. "But still no sex. Not even any dating, really."

  "Huh." I wanted to know more but knew it was probably a better idea to keep quiet for now. They'd tell me what I needed to know when I needed to know it, and I had to trust them about that. "Alright, let's get going."

  I didn't wait for Samuel to respond and walked right up to him, hooking his arm with mine. We had another mark to secure, then we could go home and relax for a bit before our current job needed our attention.

  Chapter 11

  "They're coming now," I hissed to Carl as we stood in front of the fake Monet painting we'd brought to the auction house.

  "Just relax, Katie. We'll be fine. Samuel will be here in a moment."

  I knew what he'd say next. This wasn't the first time Samuel had pretended to be an art evaluator, which just made me wonder how many fake paintings there were out in the world and owned by unsuspecting idiots. This was my first time actually doing something that was illegal, rather than just the intention to commit a crime. We were about to commit fraud, whether I liked it or not, there was no denying it.

  My head itched beneath my curly brown wig, but I couldn't scratch it without drawing attention to myself. The disguise was good, but I had my concerns about how well it would hold up if someone looked too closely. The guys had it easier, they could don all kinds of fake beards. Or just grow their own if they wanted to. Carl had a very sexy five o'clock shadow at the moment. It made me want to run my fingers along his jaw and feel the rough texture on my skin.

  "Katie, breathe," Carl instructed, setting a hand on my lower back. I leaned into him, surprisingly comforted by his touch. And a little turned on.

  I'd spent the past three days mulling over what they'd said to me and going back and forth over what I wanted to do about it. I'd been seconds away from calling them and giving in to their every whim when Carl had phoned me to tell me the painting was ready and we needed to take it to the auction house. Because of the short deadline, we needed to move fast, especially as the longer the painting was on display, the more chance there was of someone figuring out it was a fake.

  "You must be the Carroways." The white-haired man held out his hand.

  Carl took it. "We are, yes. I'm Cedric, this is my wife, Kaleigh."

  "It's good to meet you. My notes say you have a painting for us." He'd already half-turned towards the painting and was examining it. I tried to do as Carl told me and breathe deeply.

  They knew what they were doing and I had to trust that we were going to be okay. I certainly wouldn't have been able to tell the difference between this painting and a real Monet, and I knew this one was fake.

  "It's a stunning piece. Do you know the painter?"

  This was it. We could either tell the truth and try to trick Hubert himself later, or we could lie and try to get the auction house to sign off on this being a Monet. The second option was definitely safer for us. If the truth came out later, we'd be able to deny any knowledge on the off chance it was traced back to us.

  "Oh my, is that what I think it is?" Samuel swaggered up to us, pulling fake glasses down his nose to study the painting in front of us.

  I tried not to snigger at how ridiculous he looked in his relaxed suit and a scarf flipped around his neck. At first glance, he was everything I expected a stereotypical art consultant to be. I almost couldn't believe other people were falling for it.

  "What do you think it is?" the auctioneer asked, a gleeful look in his eye. We might have gotten lucky here. A greedy man running the auction could mean we were heading towards the painting getting signed off more easily.

  "No...it can't be. It can't have turned up here." Samuel's eyes widened as he stared at the painting in fake amazement. He really was surprisingly good at this role.

  "What is it?" the auctioneer repeated.

  "I'm hesitant to say without examining it further." Samuel lifted his half-moon glasses as he spoke before setting them back down on his nose.

  "But what do you suspect?"

  I leaned into Carl, hoping no one thought anything of it. Or that the men would realise just how nervous I was about the whole situation. The three of them had much more practice at watching things they'd forged pass into the control of people who weren't in on the con. For me, this was new, and it came with all the pitfalls I could think of. What if the auctioneer realised we were all bluffing?

  "I believe this is a Claude Monet," Samuel said with as much dramatic flair as possible. "It must have been in a private collection." He leaned in closer.

  "Do you think?" the auctioneer asked eagerly.

  "Oh, yes, see the way the brush has created each point of colour on the painting? It's classic Monet. Not to mention the subject matter. The bridge at Giverny was one of his favourites to paint."

  I had no idea if any of what Samuel was saying was true. I'd been to the gardens and seen the bridge, and the painting was unmistakenly of it, but that didn't mean anything. No doubt that was what the forger had chosen because it was so iconic.

  "This is the scoop of a lifetime," the auctioneer said. "I must get them to update the program." He hurried off without any of us having to say anything else.

  We stayed silent for a couple of minutes, ensuring no one else was about.

  "How did you know he wouldn't have his own authenticity test done?" I asked softly.

  Carl chuckled. "Samuel's been playing an expert in these circles for years. But mostly because the auctioneer is greedy. He wants to say he's auctioned off a Monet."

  I frowned and looked back at the painting. "Doesn't it seem dangerous to be going for something so high profile?"

  "Definitely," Samuel responded. "But Dean is back at the house doing his magic. The auction house will send out an email about this to their high profile clientele, but it won't get to them. He'll intercept and change a few words."

  "Smart," I muttered, though their reassurances didn't do anything to still my beating heart. This was dangerous. Beyond that. If anyone could link us to the fake painting, we'd end up in jail.

  Then again, that was the case with any of this. Fraud was as bad as forgery in most people's eyes.

  "We should carry on our walk around the lots, dear," Carl suggested, reminding me of my role in this.

  "Of course. There was a particularly beautiful bracelet I had my eyes on," I said, not having to lie to play the auction attendee this time. There truly was a beautiful array of jewellery here.

  "Oh?" Carl raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you lead the way, and I'll come see it."

  I led him away, neither of us saying anything to Samuel. The whole plan would fall apart if anyone thought we knew one another.

  Chapter 12

  I tried to focus on my book, but ended up snapping it shut in frustration instead. No matter what I did, my thoughts kept straying back to the con, and to the three men who were making my life more complicated than it needed to be. It didn't seem to make a difference which of the three I thoug
ht about, the other two kept popping into my head and reminding me that things were more complicated than I could ever have imagined.

  I didn't know which of the three I should choose. Then again, they'd said already that I didn't have to. If I wanted all three of them, all I had to do was say the word. But was that the right path to take? It was certainly a controversial route.

  I snorted. Here I was having decided that I was going to con people to make my living, but I was quibbling about how many people I could be in a relationship with? Even I had to admit that was kind of crazy, not to mention a bit unnecessary.

  A knock sounded at the door, and I glanced over to find Samuel waiting there, in his own clothes, but with slightly damp hair.

  "Can I come in?" he asked.

  I nodded and gestured towards the spot on my bed. It didn't feel too much like intruding, not when this was a flat simply rented for the job.

  He plonked himself down, sighing loudly as he did.

  "Are you all okay?" I asked, eyeing him and trying to work out what the matter was.

  "Are you?" he turned the question back on me.

  I frowned. "Yes?" Why was he asking that? I didn't think I'd done anything that would suggest I wasn't okay.

  "I...we, we were just wondering if you were having second thoughts about anything."

  The way he said it was enough for me to know he wasn't talking about the job. He knew I was fine with that. They all did, or I wouldn't be playing along with their plan the way I had been.

  "No," I answered simply. "No second thoughts at all."

  His eyes brightened, but he didn't say anything to elaborate.

  "Samuel," I pressed. "What's bothering you?"

  He opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it again.

  "If you don't use words, I'm not going to be able to reassure you," I pointed out. "I might be intelligent, but I can't read minds."

  He chuckled. "That would be a handy trick when it came to reading marks."

  "Oh it would. But if I could do it, then other people could too, and if marks could read our minds, we'd end up behind bars within seconds."

  "Oh, I don't know," he countered. "There'd be ways to confuse them or convince them we were thinking about different things."

  "I suppose if everyone knew people could read minds they'd have to come up with ways to keep things private. Could you imagine having all your secrets aired out in public?" My thoughts instantly strayed to the three men and what it would be like to be with them. All of them. Not mattering that four of us in a relationship would be strange for most people.

  Samuel's gaze slipped to my lips.

  "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were reading my mind now," I murmured.

  His eyes snapped upwards, his gaze meeting mine. "Only if you're thinking the same thing as I am."

  The air grew thick between us, as if it knew what the other was thinking, and how easy it would be to make it happen.

  I wasn't sure who moved first, but I found myself in his arms, his lips pressed to mine. Within seconds, I'd deepened the kiss, desperate for more of him. It was different from the way I'd kissed Dean and Carl, but it held the same amount of familiarity and the sense of rightness that came with it. This wasn't an idol infatuation. It was something far bigger.

  We shifted so my back was against the mattress. I ran one of my hands up his back, pulling him closer as I tangled the other in his damp hair. He smelled of the body wash he must have used in the shower, clean and crisp.

  He trailed his fingers up the outside of my leg, leaving a burning trail of sensation behind his touch, even through the material of my leggings. If he wasn't careful, I'd combust beneath him and we'd never get any further than this.

  His mouth left mine, trailing kisses across my cheek and down my throat. He nipped lightly at my neck, pulling a tortured moan from me.

  I pushed his head down gently, urging him to continue his trail of kisses along my collarbone. All I could think about was the feel of him against me, our bodies pressed together.

  And yet there was something wrong about this. What was it? I could barely think beyond wondering what Samuel would do next. How was I going to work out what felt off about it?

  I pushed on Samuel's shoulders, breaking the kiss and the moment. But it was necessary.

  Horror flitted over his face as he realised the same thing I already had.

  "I'm sorry," he whispered.

  "It's okay," I assured him. "But I need to talk to the others."

  He nodded. "What are you going to tell them?"

  I swallowed nervously. "The same thing I'm going to tell you." I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the potentially scandalous thing I was about to say. "That I don't want to choose between the three of you."

  Samuel nodded. "Are you going to tell them about this?" He gestured between the two of us.

  I nodded. "Of course. You know about the kisses I've shared with each of them, it's only right they know about this one." And how far I might have gone if I hadn't realised I needed to have that conversation first.

  "Ah, yes."

  "Are you going to come with me?" I asked, unsure if that was for the best or not.

  He shook his head. "No. I think it's best if you have the conversation with them alone. That way everyone is on the same page."

  I placed my hand over his and gave it a squeeze. "And are you on that page too?" I checked. The last thing I wanted was to make him think his opinion on the matter didn't matter.

  "I most definitely am." He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it softly. "You have me no matter what the other two say."

  My heart did an odd fluttery thing, but I ignored it. I had other things to worry about right now.

  Chapter 13

  I paced back and forth, trying to ignore the confused faces of Dean and Carl. Perhaps I should have done this differently and taken them aside separately to have this conversation.

  But no. That wasn't the way to do this. We were starting something that involved all four of us. If things had gone to plan, Samuel would have been in the room too, but our kiss had changed that. Now, we needed to sort this out quickly.

  "Are you okay, Katie?" Dean asked.

  I sighed. "Sorry, this is just harder than I thought." I gestured for the two of them to scoot apart so I could sit between them. That way, I didn't have to look at either of their faces while I talked.

  "Take your time. We don't need to be anywhere tonight," Carl assured me.

  I smiled weakly. He had no idea how little that helped. If there was a time limit on it, I could simply blurt out my thoughts and have done with it.

  I took in a deep breath. "I kissed Samuel," I admitted.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Dean nod. "We thought that would happen at some point," he said.

  "Well, it did. It was an accident. I hadn't meant it to happen before I could talk to the three of you, but..."

  Carl snorted. "But the same thing happened as when we kissed at the party, or when Dean did the same. The time and the situation were right."

  "Yes," I admitted weakly. "But it made me realise I had to talk to all of you as soon as I did, or it would playing on all of our minds."

  "I take it that's why he's not here?" Dean asked.

  "Yes. He knows what I'm going to say, and it seemed easier, and fairer, if it was the three of us now."

  "Makes sense," Carl said. "But does that mean you've made a decision?"

  I bit my lip. "Yes. I can't choose. And I won't choose."

  Both men let out sighs of relief. A small part of them must have believed I was going to pick Samuel after all.

  "But I don't know how to do this," I admitted softly. "I've never been with two men at once, never mind three..."

  The two of them exchanged a glance. I wondered what it was about, but didn't let my mind linger there.

  "Why don't we start here?" Carl asked, his voice having dropped lower than normal, almost husky.

  "Okay." The w
ord came out as little more than a whisper, but they both heard it.

  Dean touched my face, moving it so I was facing him. His lips were on mine within seconds. It was the echo of the kiss we'd shared before. Passionate, powerful, demanding. He wanted me more than he'd have admitted out loud, and now he was going to show me in the only way he thought possible.

  I shuffled in my seat, half expecting him to lay me down. But of course, he couldn't. Carl was there.

  Hands began to rove over my back, the angle revealing it to be the other man. For a moment, I wanted to stop what was about to happen. But I pushed that thought aside. Just because most people wouldn't approve of what was about to happen, it didn't mean it wasn't right for me. I wanted both of them. No, all three of them. I was allowed to act on that so long as everyone in each situation was comfortable with what was going on.

  Carl swept my hair away from the nape of my neck before leaning in and kissing the soft skin there. I moaned into my kiss with Dean, not having anticipated how it would feel to have two men kissing me at the same time.

  Dean pulled away, his eyes glazed with desire. He reached out and brushed the strap of my dress down my shoulder.

  My lips parted, but no words came out.

  Instead, I reached forward and began unbuttoning his shirt. He cottoned on to what I was doing, and helped with much more practised fingers. Within seconds, it was fluttering to the floor, discarded and unwanted, leaving him bare-chested in front of me. I licked my lips, desperate for more of what he was giving.

  His fingers lingered on the button of his fly, as if asking for my permission to go further.

  "Do we have protection?" Carl said, breaking away from kissing my neck.

  Dean groaned, and not in a good way. "There's some upstairs. I'll go get it."

  "Thanks," Carl said.

  "Keep her busy while I'm gone," Dean said, throwing a wink our way.

  Heat rushed to my cheeks at that. I knew that was where this situation was going, but it was another thing to have it spoken about.