No, the problem wasn’t Grayson and his murky motives, whatever they might be. It was the small fact that he wasn’t Donovan Caine. Despite my best intentions, I’d fallen for the detective, felt something for him. A warm softness in my chest that went beyond mere lust. And when Donovan had left town, when he told me that he was leaving because of me, well, it hadn’t exactly done wonders for my ego. Or made me eager to start up something new with someone else.

Even assassins needed time to lick their wounds.

But Owen Grayson stared at me very much the way I had looked at Donovan Caine. With pure, focused interest—and the determination to get what he wanted. Me. Despite my doubts about him, it was… nice to be looked at that way. Instead of with the cold suspicion that the detective had almost always shown me.

Owen reached over and slipped his hand in mine. His palm was pleasantly cool against my skin, and I felt a little surge of magic brush against the spider rune scar embedded in my palm. Grayson’s eyes brightened, as though someone had struck a match in his violet gaze. In addition to being a successful businessman, Owen Grayson also had an elemental talent for metal. To be considered a true elemental, you had to be gifted in one of the four major areas—Air, Fire, Ice, or Stone. But lots of folks were magically skilled in offshoots of the four elements, like electricity or water. In Owen’s case, his talent for metal, a branch of Stone magic, let him sense all kinds of metal and ore, control them, and even forge them into whatever he wanted.

“The silverstone’s still in there,” I said in a wry tone. “If that’s what you were looking for.”

Owen shook his head. “I’ll admit I’m curious as to exactly how you could get so much of the metal melted into your skin like that—especially shaped like a spider rune. And why you carry so many silverstone knives on you all the time. Curiosity is a trait of mine, I’m afraid. But I was much more interested in just holding your hand.”

“What are you? Twelve?”

Grayson flashed me another smile. “Sometimes the most sensual pleasures are the simplest ones.”

I looked at him a moment. Then I threw back my head and laughed. “Wow. That was lame. Do you try that line out on all the ladies? Or just me?”

Instead of being insulted, Grayson’s smile deepened, and his violet eyes glowed with warmth. “Just you, Gin. You’re the only one who’s ever called me on it.”

Owen made me laugh, I’d give him that. So I sat there and let him hold my hand instead of telling him to get lost.