Deadly Little Secrets (22 page)

The gorgeous actress swept across the lobby with the ease of someone used to cameras and staging. She was dramatic, with flowing black hair and snapping blue eyes.

“Davros!” she exclaimed in breathy delight, taking his hands and kissing him on both cheeks.

“Sophia,
kouritsaki-mou,
I am so glad to see you. Come, come, meet my friends.” Dav introduced them all and nudged everyone to the limo. To Ana's amusement, Dav was treating Sophia like a young cousin come to town; by using the affectionate Greek designation of her as “littlest one,” he let her know it wasn't a date. For all she knew, Sophia
was
another cousin; however, the actress was visibly unhappy at being treated with such avuncular regard.

“We are lucky men, are we not, Gates? Ana, may I say that I have never seen you look so lovely. You do us an honor to be with us tonight.” He turned to Gates and grinned. “Well done, Gates.”

Gates just slipped Ana's hand into the crook of his arm, despite the fact that they were in the limo and there was no need for it. “Thank you, Dav.” Dav didn't miss the significance of the gesture, but Sophia evidently did. Then again, the younger woman was still processing the shift in dynamics with Dav.

“And to have you with us, Sophia-aki.” Dav patted her hand where it lay on the seat beside him. “It will be quite the coup for me to be seen with such a beautiful woman.”

“My goodness, there're a lot of limos ahead of us,” Ana said as they pulled up at the Opera House.

“Yes, the governor's here tonight. TeenCare is one of his particular favorites, and he touts it as an example of public-private partnerships truly working.” Dav leaned forward to peer through the darkened glass. “There is Tom Hanks, and his lovely wife. I believe that's their son with them as well.”

From disgrace to the Opera House, what a week.
The irreverent thought followed her from the limo, down the red carpet as they paused for photographs, both as couples and as a foursome, and into the bustling event inside.

“Davros, my friend,” a hearty voice called as they entered, and Ana felt Gates stiffen beside her. The leering man from the gallery opening was bearing down upon them, hand outstretched.

Ana searched for a name, but came up blank.

“Drake Yountz,” Gates murmured, his voice carrying no farther than Ana's ears. “Founder of Bootstrap.”

New target acquired.

“Mr. Gianikopolis,” Drake began. “Dav,” he corrected himself, using the familiar address. His eyes widened at the sight of Sophia, but Ana would have bet money that he'd known she was going to be there. “And what a coup for us, to have you here, Ms. Kontos,” he said, oozing charm and kissing the hand she offered rather than taking it in the traditional handshake.

Sophia recovered quickly. “Thank you, for the warm welcome.”

“No, no, it is we who are privileged to have you with us. Dav, will you introduce me to the rest of your party?”

Dav was quick on the uptake, Ana would give him that. “Drake Yountz, founder of Bootstrap Foundation, let me introduce you to my associate, Gates Bromley, and his lovely guest this evening, Ana Burton.”

Yountz shook hands with Gates and did as he had done with Sophia, kissing her hand with what he must have thought was Continental flair. Ana was unimpressed and wished she could wipe her hand on something. She wasn't about to wipe it on the dress, but she wondered if Gates had another of those soft handkerchiefs handy.

It annoyed the shit out of her that the one target she'd been trying to pin down was this slimy piece of work. He'd refused to talk to her about the case, refused to answer her calls, had his secretary call her and tell him he was unavailable. She hadn't recognized Yountz's name at the party at Prometheus, but she knew it now.

“Do come and let me introduce you to some people, Dav, Gates, ladies. It's a wonderful turnout tonight.” Drake started them all down the stairs into the main gallery where all the bars were set up, directing them easily through the crowd.

Gates's hand was on her back again, and he whispered in her ear as they paused in their progress through the throng. “He's an annoyance, isn't he?”

She gave a slight nod, careful to keep the pleasant smile on her face.

“I want to take your dress off and make love to you, right now,” he continued in the same whisper, never letting on that he was seducing her in the middle of the crowded room. The heat of his hand, the sweep of his fingers in that hypnotic rhythm were a poignant reminder of how they'd been together, and she could feel the blush rising from her cleavage up her neck and into her cheeks. “You're beautiful when you blush.” His parting shot left her hotter than ever, but thankfully the jam-up of people shifted and they moved forward once more. If he continued to tease her, stroke her all night, she was going to explode.

The mental image of the two of them tangled together in bed made her wet with anticipation.

Forcing herself to focus, she pasted on a social smile and shook hands with the governor and his gracious wife, several congressmen and a congresswoman, along with a welter of social lions from the San Francisco community. At every turn, the cameras flashed, and she fielded numerous questions about her dress, the designer, and her jewelry.

They were alone with Dav for a few moments, which gave her a chance to speak to him. “Thanks for bringing Sophia. It takes the spotlight off me,” she said, watching the paparazzi maneuver in the crowd to get a shot of the gorgeous woman, now talking with a director who lived in the Bay Area.

“My pleasure,” he drawled. “She is a distant relative, and it did us both good to be seen here tonight.” He smiled at her, a twinkle in his eye. “I did not, however, want her to get the wrong impression.” Something over her shoulder caught his eye, and she saw his gaze sharpen and his body language change. For a moment, she saw something in his face that could have been hunger, something so deep and personal, that she caught her breath. Then he pulled down his social mask once more.

“Dav?” Gates must have seen it too, because there was more than a question in his voice.

Without answering the question, Dav smiled at Ana, but his attention was still across the room. “If you'll excuse me?”

“Of course.” Standing together, Gates and Ana watched him move through the crowd, stopping only briefly when someone detained him for a handshake or introduction. Looking ahead, she saw what Dav had seen, the goal he was aiming for. “Interesting,” she breathed, remembering the gallery opening, and Dav's interest in Carrie McCray.

“What?”

“Carrie McCray,” she murmured, directing his attention. As they watched, Dav reached her and even from where they stood they could see the pleased smile that suffused her face, the slight flush in her cheeks as Dav steered her toward the bar.

“So that's who it is.” Gates's murmur carried no farther than her ears. “I've been wondering.”

“Wondering?” Gates and Dav were close, she knew it, but their relationship was still opaque to her in so many ways. Gates was far more than the security droid he made himself out to be. While he was less than a full partner in all of Dav's businesses, she believed he was as close to that as Dav might ever allow.

“He's been distracted in the last week, and not just with the incidents. At first, he mentioned relocating to Europe.” Gates let his hand resume its restless movement at the small of her back. “I wasn't in favor of that,” he said, his voice warm and caressing as he added, “for a variety of reasons.” After a moment, he continued. “Usually, he just makes a decision and goes, but this time, although he talked about it, he didn't pack, didn't change anything. That frequently means there's a woman in the picture. He's always had a soft spot for Carrie, but I wasn't sure it went any deeper than that. In fact, I thought it might be Sophia.”

“She's too young for him.” Ana kept her voice low as well, unwilling to provide fodder for the gossip columns by speaking too freely or too loudly.

“Yes, but young women are often attracted to men like Dav,” he said, cynicism ripe in his voice. “Trust me, I usually bear the brunt of their disappointment.”

Ana smirked. “Bet that's tough duty.”

His breath tickled her ear as he said, “You have no idea.” He paused. “Want to find a dark corner?”

“Gates,” she hissed as Drake Yountz approached them again, frowning and obviously looking for Dav.

“Hello again, I was looking for Dav, I wanted to introduce him to Mr. Chang.” He indicated the man and his petite wife, tagging along behind Drake like ducklings. “Zhenji-san, I've lost him again. I'm so sorry. We'll be sure that you get to meet him before the evening is out.” Another couple moved over to intercept Yountz and the Changs, and Yountz neatly stepped between Gates and Ana. When Gates asked her if she'd like another drink, Yountz beamed. “Oh, Gates, since you're going to get a drink for Ana, here, could I impose on you to get the Changs something as well?”

Trapped by good manners and a ring of watching faces, Gates acquiesced with good grace. Ana, however, saw the flash of fury in his eyes.

She regretted his departure immediately as Drake fixed his eyes on her cleavage and asked, “Did I hear you say that was a Misioia? I told Mrs. Chang,” he nodded to the woman, “that one of our most prominent San Francisco designers has relatives in her province.”

Mrs. Chang beamed, and Ana got an idea of how Drake Yountz had built his shipping business as well as the Bootstrap Foundation. He worked connections and knowledge with eel-like fluidity.

“Your dress is lovely.” The woman's accented English made the comment musical.

Drake used the compliment as an excuse to slip his arm around her, pull her close. “Wonderful to see beautiful women like yourself supporting up-and-coming designers.” He turned and kissed her cheek, and she gritted her teeth. A camera flashed, and Drake beamed, giving her waist an extra tug. “And they got us together—how wonderful is that?”

Resisting the urge to break his fingers, Ana pulled out of his hold. “Unpleasant, but a necessary evil, I guess,” she said sweetly. The Changs looked confused because her words didn't match her tone.

Drake's laugh was hearty and loud, “Of course, of course. Some people don't like photographers,” he agreed jovially, although the tight look around his eyes betrayed his anger. “But some don't photograph as well as others either,” he said, slipping in a verbal jab.

Gates returned at that moment, to Ana's relief. She felt more than heard Gates's chuckle.

“I would say that Ana has no problem there, Yountz.” He let the heat of his voice wash over her, and the way he moved in close was enough of a nonverbal clue that Yountz backed off another step.

“Ah, of course.” Drake still looked angry, despite the smile he was showing.

Gates motioned a young server forward, and the woman offered a tray bearing drinks. Ana took her wine and sipped it, reining in her seething temper. The Changs were distracted enough that they missed the byplay of emotion.

“Ana, I see someone I want you to meet. Would you excuse us?” Gates's exit from the group was smooth as silk, so was the brush of his hand over the bare skin at the top of her dress in back. Once again he leaned in to whisper. “I want to put my mouth right here.” He trailed a long finger along the top of the dress. “And make you quiver.”

Anger dissipated by the frisson of desire, Ana moved closer to him, felt him laugh. “Like that, do you?”

“Yes, I do. The party's wonderful, isn't it?” She answered the question and managed to keep up the social façade at the same time.

“Of course. Why don't we go up there?” Gates indicated the upper gallery. “I'd love to see the artwork.”

Unsure if it was another personal ploy or a reference to the case, she agreed. From the higher elevation, they could see the interplay of people on the floor below.

“Look, Yountz has Sophia cornered now,” she muttered, watching as the young woman deftly deflected the grab and squeeze. Evidently she'd had more experience with the maneuver.

“He's an ass. A rich one, mind you,” Gates drawled, his hand at her back again. “Has a gorgeous wife, Caroline, but she hasn't come to any of these things for a while now. Certainly since we've been back in the States. Last year when we were here, she was out to here.” He held out a hand, indicating pregnancy. “Yountz spent the next few months cornering people to show off baby pictures instead of being a sleaze.”

“But he's returned to previous form?” Ana disliked him even more now, knowing that. Some men were pigs, and Yountz was evidently an oinker of the highest order.

“Seems like. You looked ready to string him up when I got back.” Gates sounded amused rather than irritated now. “It was tempting to just let you have a go at him, I confess.”

“I have to watch my temper with that sort,” she admitted, leaning into him when he warmed her bare shoulder with his hand. “I was contemplating dismemberment.”

“Vicious thought.”

“Hmmmm.” She scanned the crowd, found Dav. He was standing with a group, Carrie McCray at his side. His date, Sophia, had flicked Yountz off and was surrounded by adoring men, young and old. “Do you think Sophia will be riding home with us?” She directed Gates's attention to the crowd.

“Probably. That was one of Dav's stipulations when he offered to chaperone her.”

“Oh, really?” Chaperone. Didn't sound like something Sophia would ask for, so Ana presumed there was some family maneuvering afoot.

“Yeah. Hang on a sec.” Gates gripped his throat, activating his walkie-talkie. In a low voice, he ordered, “Declan, close up the back. You're too far away from Dav.”

“I thought you weren't on duty,” Ana said, as she watched a young man with dark red hair shift in the crowd, ambling toward Dav's position. If she hadn't heard the order and connected the red hair with the name, she'd never have noticed. Looking again, she noted faces she'd seen at the estate, including the driver, Damon. He looked as dashing in a tuxedo as he had in a chauffer's uniform, and the slim, beautiful woman on his arm was quite a bit more attractive than she'd looked at the guard station.

“Full complement tonight, Gates?”

“Big crowd. I don't care how much security the governor has, it isn't looking out for Dav. That's my job. Or it is when I'm on the job.”

“Aren't we always on the job? I may be your date tonight, for fun, but I'm working too.” As much as she'd rather be here to just be with Gates, she said it out loud as a reminder to herself, as well as to Gates. “Dav's on the move,” she said, grinning as she saw Dav take Carrie's hand and tuck it in his elbow. “They're going to look at the auction items.”

She shifted toward the stairs, but Gates stopped her. “Where are you going?”

Puzzled, she looked at him, noting the mischief in his eyes. “Don't we need to…” She trailed off as he crooked a finger.

“Come with me,” he said softly, his hand at her back once more. “I've something I want to show you. It won't take long.”

“Oh, really?” Ana was intrigued, sure that she should be down on the floor, mingling, taking note of who was there, managing data about those who had lost paintings and those who wanted nothing to do with resurrecting the case. At least seven of her targets were present tonight, including two actors she'd been unable to speak with.

Instead, despite her better judgment, she followed Gates as he sauntered through the looser grouping on this mezzanine level. He came to a door and opened it, gesturing for her to go through before him.

“What's this?”

“Security area,” he said, walking through the dimly lit room. “There's something I want to show you.”

“What?”

“This,” he said, opening the door to a small, neatly appointed room, then closing and locking the door behind them. “Come here.”

All the fantasies that had flitted through her mind earlier slammed into her head as he kissed her long and deep. “Ohhhhhh,” she moaned as he slipped a finger into her bodice to tease her nipple.

“We won't take much time,” he whispered. “We'll go back, but I had to touch you. Kiss you. My God you're beautiful.” He said it over and over as he rained kisses on her lips, her neck, the vee of her breasts where it was exposed by the fabulous dress. “You make me crazy.”