“I might be an assassin, but never let it be said I wasn't as gracious a hostess as the next gal.”

“This is the first time I've dated an assassin. I don't want to piss her off.”

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

“This is really good,” Donovan Caine said, attacking his third strawberry pancake. “You sound surprised,” I said. He shrugged. “I just didn’t think an assassin would be able to cook like this.” “Well, I do get lots of practice with knives. You could say I’m multitasking.” The detective froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. “I’m kidding. I enjoy cooking. It relaxes me.”

“Y’all might as well come on out,” I said. “I know you’re there. I can smell you.”“Smell me? But I just took a shower this morning!” an indignant voice drifted out of the shadows.There was a loud sound, like someone was getting smacked upside the head. Then another voice let out a low mutter.“Shut up, idiot.”

“You do realize that the cost of that bracelet is within spitting distance of my going rate as an assassin, right?” “You mean your going rate back when you were actually killing people for money,” Finn said. “Or as I like to call them— the good ole days.”

“Breaking into the building was easy.Too easy for an assassin like me.”