Jennifer Estep - Web of Lies

At that moment, I seriously considered hurting Owen Grayson. Even killing him. Because somehow, Grayson had stripped away part of my defenses, part of my anonymity.

He knew too much about me, knew too many things I was so careful to conceal. He could be a threat. To me, to Finn, to the Deveraux sisters. I didn’t like threats.

So I decided to get down to business.

“My scar sounds sad, hurt, lonely? That sounds like a lame come-on to me,” I mocked. “Surely, you can do better than that, Mr. Grayson.”

Owen laughed — a loud, hearty laugh. I’d amused him. He was laughing in the face of his own possible death. Despite the stupidity of his action, I had to admire his bravado. It, and this little spark of interest, of curiosity I had about him, was all that was keeping Grayson alive.

“So what do you really want?” I asked once Grayson’s laughter had died down.

“From you? I haven’t quite decided. But the possibilities are interesting.” His eyes wandered down my body again in a frank, assessing way that told me he liked what he saw. His gaze settled on the heart-and-arrow rune that hung from my black velvet choker. “Although I never would have taken you for one of Roslyn Phillips’s girls.”

A hard smile curved my lips. “I’m a woman of many skills.”

“I just bet you are,” he murmured.

“Let’s get down to business,” I said. “Because I have other things to do tonight besides stand out here in the dark with you.”

Like killing Tobias Dawson. Five minutes had passed since I’d left Mab Monroe in her own bathroom with Jake McAllister. Since I hadn’t heard any screams or scurries of activity, she hadn’t found his body in the bathtub. Which meant I still had a small window of time left to find, attract, and kill Dawson.

Owen Grayson nodded. “Very well. As I was saying, I was quite surprised to see you here tonight. But once I did, I decided to approach you.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “I thought you might like to dance.”

I stared at him. He seemed to be sincere. Owen Grayson attracted to me? My eyes narrowed. Or perhaps he’d just seen the rune around my neck and realized what it meant — that I was supposed to fuck anyone here tonight for free. Either way, I supposed stranger things had happened.

“But I wasn’t quite quick enough to catch you before you left the ballroom,” Grayson continued. “And then I heard you speaking with Mab in the bathroom. Which interested me that much more, Gin. May I call you Gin?”

“Sure. No need to stand on ceremony at this point. As for what you overheard in the bathroom, I can’t imagine why two girls talking about getting it on would be of interest to a guy like you.” Sarcasm dripped from my voice like hot gravy off a biscuit.

His violet eyes glittered in the semidarkness, and he smiled. “Of course not.”

“So you want to fuck me then,” I said in a blunt tone.

“That’s what this little conversation is all about. The talk about my knives, the stroll on the terrace, the handholding and come-on about what my scar sounds like. Interesting technique. Tell me, what was your next move? Maneuvering me up against the wall here? Or me accidentally falling on your dick?”

Grayson laughed again. “Of course I want to fuck you, Gin.”

He stared at me. I saw the desire in his violet gaze, but it wasn’t as lecherous or prurient as the other looks I’d been getting tonight. Oh, Owen Grayson seemed to be as sexual and fond of the female form as the next man.

But genuine interest also shimmered in the businessman’s eyes, as though he was enjoying our sparring conversation as much as he would lifting up my skirt.

“But let’s slow down, shall we?” Grayson said. “As I said before, I’ve always had a thing for sassy brunettes. I’ve decided I rather like you, Gin. You interest me. And no one’s done that in a very long time.”

“So what are you proposing — exactly? That the two of us go off somewhere quiet to talk before you make your move?” I mocked.

“Hardly.” Owen scoffed. “Unlike some of Mab’s other guests, I don’t need to depend on her generosity for my satisfaction. I thought you might like to go out sometime. Dinner, perhaps a movie, dancing. Whatever you like.”

My eyebrows raised. “You want to go out with me? Even though I’m wearing this?” I pointed to the heart-and-arrow rune necklace. “Even though I’m a hooker? Even though you could have me for free tonight?”

He shrugged again. “Call me crazy, but I thought it might be fun.”

Fun? I didn’t know about that. But there was certainly more to Owen Grayson than met the eye. He thought I was moonlighting as one of Roslyn Phillips’s girls, and he was still asking me to go out with him.

To be seen in public with him. Which meant he was either genuinely interested in me or working some angle I couldn’t puzzle out. Either way, I didn’t have time for this tonight.

But there was something Owen Grayson could help me with. And I was ready to cash in on that goodwill he owed me.

“Let’s say I believe you, that you really do want to get to know me and not just my breasts,” I said. “Do me a favor, and I’ll consider your proposal.”

Grayson nodded. “All right. What kind of favor?”

“Take me inside and introduce me to Tobias Dawson. I’m sure you know him, since the two of you are so heavily involved in the mining business in Ashland.”

His eyes narrowed. “I do know him. But why would you want to meet Dawson? He doesn’t strike me as your type.”

I gave him a hard smile. “Because I’m here to service Mab’s guests tonight, and I hear he’s a really big tipper. And that’s definitely my type.”

Owen studied me in the hazy light. Disappointment sparked in his eyes. His free, easy lay was getting away.

“You said it yourself. You owe me for saving Eva, for saving your sister,” I reminded him in a mild tone. “Well, this is how I want to cash in. Now, are you going to introduce me? Or am I going to have to take care of that myself?”

Pretending to be a prostitute. Propositioning Mab Monroe in her own bathroom. Hinting I was going to go fuck another man for the mere promise of money. Owen Grayson had seen and heard me do all those things in the space of five minutes. I resigned myself to the disgusted sneer that was coming my way and the harsh words that were sure to follow. No man liked being cuckolded.

But to my surprise, Owen Grayson just smiled. A familiar emotion shimmered in his eyes, one that had gotten me into trouble on more than once occasion. Curiosity.

It burned even brighter than his desire had a moment ago.

“Oh, I’ll introduce you to Dawson, just to see what you’re up to.” Amusement colored Grayson’s voice, and he held his arm out to me for a second time. “Shall we, Gin?”

Owen Grayson’s curiosity might cause me problems later on, but this was too good an opportunity to pass up.

So I placed my hand on his arm. “Let’s.”

Owen Grayson escorted me back into the ballroom. We stood by the terrace door, looking for Dawson. Finally, I spotted the cowboy dwarf, standing near the long, crowded bar. Tobias Dawson drank a shot of what looked like whiskey, chased it with a mug of beer, belched, and wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand. Classy.

“You sure you want to do this?” Grayson murmured.

I paused. Grayson probably thought I was reconsidering approaching Dawson, given the dwarf ’s obvious disregard for napkins. But really, I was remembering Violet Fox and the way Trace Dawson had bashed her face in.

The way Tobias Dawson had spit tobacco juice on the floorboards of the country store. The way that diamond in his office safe had practically sung. The way Warren Fox’s shoulders had drooped when I’d told him what Dawson really wanted his land for.