Free Deadly Little Secrets by Jeanne Adams

her hands on him, it had been like a shot to the gut. Her imagination had gone into overdrive.
    Stop thinking about his abs and focus on the work.
    Redirecting her thoughts, she observed just how careful he was of his boss’s safety. She pretended to natter on about the art, but kept one eye on him, as he kept both on Dav. All without ever ceasing that restless pattern on her spine.
    It was driving her mad.
    â€œIt would be a privilege to discuss that with you, Dav,” Carrie was saying warmly, and Ana wondered what she’d missed.
    â€œWe’ll make an appointment, shall we? I’ll be in touch in the next few days, and we’ll set it up.”
    â€œLovely,” Carrie replied, an edge of puzzlement in her smile.
    â€œIt’s always a pleasure to do business with you, and with Prometheus.” It was such a hearty endorsement that Ana surreptitiously scanned the nearby faces. Dav was making a point, giving Carrie an all-out seal of approval.
    The crowd shifted again, and Dav’s demeanor changed from social politeness to distinct interest. There was a keen awareness in that shift, and something else, something Ana didn’t quite recognize, as Dav took Carrie’s hand and bowed over it in a courtly manner.
    â€œWe’ll make that a date, then.”
    â€œAbsolutely,” she agreed, the puzzled look still a faint crease on her brow. Ana caught the masculine interest in Dav’s reply, but Carrie seemed oblivious. From the corner of her eye, she saw Gates’s scowl. What, no nookie for the boss-man? she wondered irreverently. Or was it just a matter of security? Tough to date, she decided, if one was a marked man, as Davros seemed to be.
    She’d pulled up more than five attempts on his life in the last couple of years, and that just here in San Fran. She wanted to dig further into that. She’d turned up business rivalries from at least one of the Central American nations, but what notes she’d scanned said one of them went back a long way and it was family oriented.
    Filing that for later consideration, Ana saw with amusement that Dav had truly flustered Carrie. She withdrew her hand, but kept her businesslike smile firmly in place. “Of course, it will be a delight to do business with you again.”
    Ana nearly broke character and snorted over how oblivious the woman was. Ana was pretty sure Dav wanted to discuss something other than art. To cover the gap, Ana kept to her vacuous chatter as Shirley. “Oh, how fun, even if business is involved. I love dates. You should go to that new restaurant over there by the twisty street, you know, Lombard.” She beamed, naming the famous San Francisco landmark. “It’s been written up all over the place. You know the place, I’m sure.” She acted as if she were searching for the name. “Parasol or something.”
    â€œWell, since we’ll be discussing business,” Carrie reiterated, a bit repressively, “we’ll probably want to stick with something more staid. Thank you for the recommendation, though, Ms. Bascom. Tell me”—Carrie deftly flipped the conversation back to art—“is art a passion of yours as well?”
    It took only a split second for her to make her decision on that one. She didn’t want to be pegged as an art patron, not in her current guise. “Oh, I’m just Shirley, and no, I mostly love a great party. My friends”—she waved toward the now-disappeared Jen and Jack—“were meeting here and invited me along.” She grinned at her hostess. “It just seemed the coolest thing to do, you know? And I was right. It’s a lot of fun.”
    She caught the sardonic look that crossed Gates’s face before he managed to recover the bland façade he’d worn since Dav’s arrival.
    â€œInteresting,” Dav added, smiling her way, but with eyes only for Carrie McCray. Dav, it seemed, wasn’t picking