I know that maniacal twinkle in your eye. You're up to something Gwen," he said.

Etiquette? What kind of etiquette was there in someone trying to murder me?

There's nothing I can do that's going to drive you away, is there?" I murmured. Owen flashed me a sly grin. "Finally figuring that out, are you? I nodded. His grin deepened. "Well, it sure took you long enough.

Oh, Finn isn’t an assassin,” I cut in. “He’s much, much worse. He’s a banker.

Let him look," he whispered and kissed me again.

All I'm saying is that I understand if the novelty's worn off and you want to get off the carousel ride now before it kills you.

One by one, the others all nodded their heads again, as if we were talking about having a spring picnic instead of going up against the deadliest woman in Ashland and all of her men.