The truth was that I didn't know how I felt about my long-lost baby sister being in Ashland, much less the fact that she was a cop. A good one, at that. Somebody who actually tried to help people, who wanted to make a difference in a city as dirty and corrupt as Ashland-while I'd spent my entire adult life killing people for money. The idea that we shared the same DNA boggled the mind. Guess there was something to that nurture stuff after all.
I threw back the rest of my bitter gin. The alcohol slid down my throat and started its slow, pleasant burn in my stomach, but it didn't improve my mood.
"Find Xavier and let's get on with this," I told Finn.
His turn to raise an eyebrow. "Cranky much?"
I smiled. "You're going to see how cranky I am when I start ordering the most expensive champagne on the menu and guzzling it down like water. After I charge it to your tab, of course."
Finn held up his hands. "Fine, fine. Xavier was supposed to swing by our booth, but I'll go see if I can find him."
Finn got to his feet, straightened his tie, smoothed down his walnut-colored hair, and stepped into the swirling crowd. He strutted toward the Ice bar, probably to ask the bartender about Xavier. His path took him close to the edge of the dance floor. The blond hooker he'd been eyeing blew Finn a kiss. He grinned and veered in her direction. Less than three minutes later, the two of them were ensconced at the bar, drinking martinis and making goo-goo eyes at each other.
I drummed my fingers on the tabletop. A pretty face and tight body could distract Finnegan Lane from his own funeral. I should have just told him I was leaving. I reached for my cell phone to text him that news flash, when a shadow fell over me.
"Why, Gin, what a lovely surprise," a male voice murmured.
I looked up to find Owen Grayson standing in front of my booth. Like Finn, Grayson wore a rich suit, black in his case, with a charcoal gray shirt underneath. The fabric accentuated his compact, sturdy figure, which always reminded me of a dwarf's stocky physique. But at six foot one, Grayson was far too tall to be a dwarf.
His glossy, blue-black hair gleamed under the club's muted lights. So did his eyes, which were a light violet. A white, thin scar slashed down his chin. The faint mark would have ruined the look of another man's face, but it added a hard, sexy, dangerous edge to Grayson's features, giving him a roguish, rakish air. So did the crooked tilt of his nose. Or maybe that was just because I liked the rest of the package so much. Owen Grayson knew how to wear a suit very well, and I couldn't help but speculate what lay beneath his designer duds. Somehow, I knew it would be as appealing as the rest of him.
Still, despite the slick, expensive threads, Grayson looked like the kind of guy who'd taken more than one punch in his time. A real fighter through and through. The strong, self-assured way he carried himself only made him more impressive to me. I'd always admired confidence-especially when the person actually had something to be confident about. Since Owen Grayson was one of the richest businessmen in Ashland, he had millions of reasons to smile.
I'd met Grayson a couple of weeks ago, back in November. His younger sister, Eva, had been eating at the Pork Pit when Jake McAllister had tried to rob the restaurant. Grayson thought he owed me something since I'd saved Eva from getting dead.
"Hello, Owen," I replied. "What brings you here tonight?"
He shrugged, his broad shoulders straining against the fabric of his suit. "Eva wanted to come dancing."
My eyes flicked over to the dance floor. Sure enough, I spotted Eva Grayson grooving in between a guy and another girl. Eva had the same coloring that Owen did, which made her look like a real-life version of Snow White. Add her rocking figure on top of that, and Eva attracted plenty of attention. She whirled away from one guy to turn and smile at another waiting at the edge of the dance floor. Eva crooked her finger, and the young man eagerly stepped into the fray surrounding her.
I looked back at Owen. "And you came along to babysit her?"
"I like to watch out for her," he rumbled in a low voice. "Besides, she said I needed a night out of the house. Evidently, running my various business interests and adding to her trust fund isn't exciting enough for her tastes."
I smiled. Like most college-age girls, Eva enjoyed flirting with the opposite sex. Dancing the night away at Northern Aggression would be right up her alley-even if big brother Owen would be watching her every move.
"Care if I join you?" Owen asked.
I shrugged. "Suit yourself."
Grayson unbuttoned his jacket and settled on the opposite side of the booth so he was sitting across from me. He signaled one of the waiters and ordered an expensive scotch. I requested another gin on the rocks, with a twist of lime this time. Maybe that would cut the bitter taste in my mouth.
Our drinks came back, and I took a healthy pull off mine. Nope, still bitter. I sighed and rubbed my index finger down the side of the glass, leaving a trail in the condensation that had already formed there.
"Something the matter?" Grayson asked, taking a sip of his scotch.
I shrugged again. "Just not in the mood to party tonight, I suppose."
Owen stared at me with his violet eyes. "Perhaps you and I could go somewhere else. Make our own party."
"Let me guess where that party would end... your bedroom?"
Grayson smiled. "Actually, I was thinking the nearest hotel myself. Why drive that far?"
"Back to wanting to sleep with me again?"
Grayson's smile widened. "I figured it couldn't hurt to give it a shot."
I snorted. For some strange reason, Owen Grayson had taken a shine to me. Sure, I'd saved his sister from getting fried extra crispy by a Fire elemental. Sure, I was an attractive woman. But I just couldn't understand why the businessman was so interested. More than half the women here tonight were hotter, skinnier, younger, and had bigger br**sts than I did. Any one of them would have been thrilled to be Grayson's entertainment for the evening. Hell, just for an hour.
More importantly, I wasn't quite sure whether his dogged interest was genuine. Trust didn't come easily to me, which is why I suspected Owen Grayson had some ulterior motive for wanting to get up close and personal with my nether regions besides the obvious one of simply getting his jolly on.
But mostly, I wasn't sure how I felt about him. With his black hair and violet eyes, Grayson was definitely attractive, in a rough, sexy way. But that sort of thing had never much mattered to me. Over the years, I'd had my share of ill-fated flings with the boys at the community college where I took so many classes. Even a grad student and a professor or two. I could do Owen Grayson tonight and forget about him tomorrow as easily as I could wash blood out of my hair. Actually, the blood would be more of a challenge.