Free Smoke and Mirrors by Jenna Mills

it, Cass." The curse was so heartfelt it soothed her like an embrace. "You can't keep it all bottled up like that."
    She averted her eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."
    "Right. That's why you can't stop staring at the kid."
    Cass stilled. Once again Gray had pegged her with uncanny accuracy. She was doing it now, she realized, staring at the boy. Ryan sat across the lobby on the Oriental rug in front of the fire, where he held court with a magic kit. Around him guests loitered, businessmen and women, vacationers, middle-aged honeymooners. The continuous parade of magic tricks wasn't what captivated them, though, that honor belonged to the boy himself. His wide smile—those trusting eyes.
    Even from a distance the innocence of it drilled a hole through Cass's heart.
    "Cass." Gray laid a hand on her arm. "Quit torturing yourself."
    "We need to toss Vilas's room again. I'll—"
    "Cass." His fingers tightened around her wrist. "Your shift is over. Go home. Go for a run. Do anything, just get out of here before you drive yourself crazy."
    As always, his prescription was right on target. She needed to get out of there, but home was the last place she wanted to be. Nothing awaited her there but her dog Barney, God bless his loyal soul. "We've got work to do, Gray. Mansfield 's been back for a week now, yet we're no closer—"
    Warning flashed in his eyes. "Don't look now, but we're about to have a visitor."
      "What—"
    "Ah, fearless, there you are."
    His voice came out smooth as whiskey. "Hello, Derek," she greeted, turning toward him. He stood decked out in his trademark black, his olive skin appearing darker than usual. "I was just leaving."
    "We need to talk."
    "Not tonight."
    "Tonight." He shot Gray a look of dismissal. "You've been less than truthful with me, doll, and I want to know why."
    A rush of adrenaline spurted through Cass, and she sensed Gray tense as well. "Oh?"
    Another sharp look, this one also at Gray. Then Mansfield took her hand and led her away. In some distant corner of her mind she laughed at that, first Gray, now Mansfield , both dragging her around like a rag doll.
    But it was all part of the guise, so she stumbled after him. She didn't think her cover had been blown—there'd been too much amusement in the deep blue of his eyes.
    A leafy ficus tree stood sentinel by one of the private offices under the curving staircase. Mansfield swung open the door, ushered her inside, then sealed the room off from prying eyes and ears. He turned to face her, his hand still curled around her fingers.
    "Why the questions, doll?"
    "Questions?" she asked nonchalantly. "What questions?"
    "Did the other night leave you curious? Didn't you understand what I was trying to tell you? I would have thought you'd be steering clear by now."
    "Like a smart woman?" she asked, recalling one of their initial conversations. "Is that what you were trying to do by putting your hands all over me? Prove a point? Show me why a smart woman stays away?"
    "You really think I'm that noble?" he asked darkly. "Maybe I just can't stay away from you. Maybe you intrigue me, make me wonder what makes you tick."
    "Ah, that sunshine and moonlight bit? How romantic."
    His expression darkened. "Trust me, there's nothing romantic about it." Everything about him looked sharper, more fierce . His eyes. His cheekbones. His mouth. "Brent tells me dinner with you was like facing the Pardon Board, only I was the derelict in question."
    "Oh?" Anxiety tightened her body. She'd thought her questions innocent enough that Brent would have no reason to replay them to Derek.
    "You've got questions about me, you ask me."
    She had questions, all right. Starting with his son. "I—"
    "Better yet," he murmured, leaning closer, "we can cut the foreplay and get down to business." His mouth came down on hers, wholly and completely. He pulled her body against his, laid siege to her soul.
    For a stunned moment, Cass was too surprised to react. The shock receded