The Billionaire's Con by Mackenzie Crowne Page B

Her gaze tangled with his. “Mr. Christos ?”
    He didn’t have a chance to answer.
    The door opened to admit yet another woman, and Meggy’s eyes widened in horrified disbelief. Elizabeth Ashford’s housekeeper stared back, looking as confused as Meggy felt. Forget uneasiness, she was going to throw up! She spun on her heel. Her gaze collided with the crystal blue gaze of the older woman whom she realized with sickening dread must be none other than her biological great-grandmother.
    “Why don’t we all sit down?”
    Meggy slapped at the hand Trevor held out. She stumbled several feet away. Oh, God.
    “Megan.” Elizabeth Ashford’s quiet voice drew her attention. “My grandson is right. We should all—”
    “Grandson?” Meggy yelped. Her gaze darted from Trevor to Elizabeth and back again. An odd buzzing echoed in her ears and the light in the room seemed to fade even as she put her hand to her head to counteract the tipping sensation.
    Right there in Elizabeth Ashford’s exquisite parlor, Meggy Calhoun did something she’d never done in her life. She fainted.

Chapter Fourteen
    Meggy opened her eyes and stared at a high, intricately carved ceiling. Trevor’s worried face, swimming into view, made her slam her eyelids shut on a groan. She hadn’t been dreaming after all. She was living a nightmare.
    “She’s coming around.”
    Meggy’s eyes popped open. Twisting her head back and around, she searched for the owner of the voice. Inches above hers, she found the smiling face of the bulky bodyguard she’d met several weeks ago. “If it isn’t the mountainous menace.”
    The bodyguard chuckled. He laid a cool cloth across her brow. “Nice to see you again too.”
    “Give her some room, Brody,” Trevor barked.
    The demand reminded her he was sitting on the couch, his hip pressed against hers. Oh, God. He’d lied about his name, and considering just whose couch they were on, she doubted she’d be pleased with his explanation of why.
    He was Elizabeth Ashford’s grandson. What did that make her, his niece?
    Her head was too mushy to think. All she knew for certain was that Trevor Bryce had suddenly become Trevor Christos, and she was going to throw up on Elizabeth Ashford’s highly polished, wooden floor. While she was at it, she’d aim for Uncle Trevor’s shoes.
    She shoved at him, swinging her legs to the floor and sitting up. The cool cloth plopped to her lap. A hand to her chest, shoving her back down, kept her from standing.
    Trevor pointed a finger in her face. “Just sit there and be quiet.”
    “ You be quiet.” She slapped away his hand. “I don’t have to listen to you. You’re not the boss of me.”
    “I said, sit there and be quiet.” Trevor propped his hands onto his hips. “I’m not having you faint on me again.”
    “Bite me, Mr. Christos .” She spoke through gritted teeth.
    Brody chuckled behind her, but Trevor simply raised a sardonic brow.
    “Where’s my purse?” she demanded on a sudden gust of breath.
    “It’s right beside you on the couch.” The strong voice of Elizabeth Ashford came from the chair beside her.
    Meggy had no idea what to say to the woman, so she ignored her, scrambling to pull her cell phone from the clutch bag.
    “Who are you calling?”
    Ignoring Trevor wasn’t as easy, not when she wanted to scratch out his eyes.
    “Nine-one-one.” She released the lock on the phone. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but kidnapping and holding people against their will is a crime.” She glanced around the room. “Even for people like you.”
    “Give me that.” Trevor snatched the phone from her hand.
    “Hey!”
    “No one is holding you against your will, Megan.” Elizabeth’s voice was calmness itself.
    Meggy didn’t even glance her way, pointing at Trevor. “Tell that to him!” She seared him with a narrowed glare. “On second thought, you probably own the local police. I’ll call the FBI.”
    Elizabeth sighed. “You haven’t