Conning For Keeps (An Agents of TRAIT Novella) (Entangled Flaunt) by Seleste deLaney Page A

sealing her in. Her breath hiccupped, and she fought to keep it steady. She could do this. It’s what she’d been raised for after all.
    “So, Miss Jones, what can I do for you?”
    She’d had less than thirty seconds to size him up since walking through the door, but what she’d felt at lunch was still there. He hadn’t looked at her as an adversary but something he’d like to eat up.
    Time for a new game.
    Biting her lip coyly, she walked her fingers up his chest. “A lot of things, but I’m mainly here because I’m pretty sure you want me with you.”
    “Maybe I do.”
    It was his turn to rake his gaze over her. Marissa fought to stay in seductress mode, but Leo Canalis was no Trevor. For starters, she was pretty sure Trevor wouldn’t kill her in cold blood. On the other hand, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that she could convince Canalis to trust her.
    “Like what you see?” Judging by the darkness of his gaze, she didn’t need to ask, but it fed so well into the next bit of her plan. “Because there’s a lot more to me than meets the eye.”
    In one step, he closed the distance between them, catching her throat in his hand. “Oh. I’m well aware of that. The question is how far am I going to have to go to find out what it is?”
    She could have tried to break his grip, but for the moment, he wasn’t the enemy. No matter how wrong that felt. Instead, she gave a half-hearted shrug and let him shove her backward.
    She caught herself on the edge of his desk, momentum sending her upper body onto the mahogany top. He likes it rough. Great. Stay on task—you need him to trust you. That’s it. Sex will never come into it. All you have to do is make him believe it will.
    She could do this. Nothing but some plotting and a little seduction… Her eyes caught a glimpse at his computer screen as she pushed up, and what she saw made her blood turn to sludge.
    The fake resume they’d posted online for Mari Jones was splashed on his screen. He’d already hunted for her. There was no turning back now. The only way she could get the painting and keep Trevor safe was the one she’d come here to put into play.
    Blowing out a breath, she twisted and leaned back against the desk as if this was a perfectly normal occurrence. Smirking, she jerked her chin toward Canalis. “All you have to do is ask, but I kind of liked the forceful option B you were working.”
    “Wonderful. I’m a busy man, Mari, so consider this my version of asking.” Canalis slid into the leather rolling chair, and Marissa hopped on the desk and swiveled around to face him.
    She shrugged. Busy, busy man. Lots of people to kill and money to launder. “I’m sure Evangeline told you about my interest in your painting.”
    “That she did, and I asked myself what the odds were a young woman would happen to be in this ridiculous wedding debacle of my son’s and also have a fascination with Certain Laughter . The piece isn’t all that well known, and it’s incredibly precious to me.” He turned his laptop and beckoned her closer. “So I did a little study of you.”
    She propped her hands on the edge of the desk, settling in and feigning a calm she very much didn’t feel. Off her feet, though, the urge to run was hampered slightly. She kicked off her shoes to complete the illusion.
    Here to stay for a while.
    “Did you now? Let’s see how good a student you are.”
    He patted her knee before turning back to the laptop. “Marisol Jones turned up about a half a dozen people living in the US. More than I expected, frankly. But when I cross-referenced that with art, there was one, and might I say you’re stunning for a sixty-three-year-old elementary school art teacher.”
    He paused like he expected her to confess to everything on the spot, but she knew better. That wasn’t how games like this were played—unless you wanted to lose. She merely tilted her head to the side and smiled at him like she hadn’t a care in the world.
    Canalis