BUT WITHOUT.
“You can’t see at night,” Rohan said out loud, his voice bordering on a purr, “except by the light of the moon.”His brain churning every bit as much as the ocean in the wind, Rohan let the thrum of possibility banish all else.“There are still these.”He produced a pair of glass dice.“And that.”Rohan nodded to the platinum chain that Savannah had once more wore wrapped around her waist when they’d changed from their formal wear back into their armor once more.
Savannah narrowed her pale eyes—moonlit eyes, if Rohan had ever seen them.“Those are my dice, not yours.”Savannah reached for them.
Rohan allowed her to reclaim the dice.“Once a pickpocket, always a pickpocket,” he told her.“All’s fair in love and war, Savvy.”
“And which one is this?”Savannah asked, the arctic chill in her tone matched only by the underlyingchallenge.“Love or war?”
Rohan angled his head down and murmured, “War, of course.”
“Well…” Savannah gave a practiced and deadly shrug.“Needs must, I suppose.”
Needs must.The phrase was one Rohan had used often enough within the bounds of his own mind, but he was fairly certain that he’d never said it aloud to her.“I prefer the full proverb:Needs must when the devil drives.”
Rohan leaned down, bringing his lips very close to hers, telling himself that all he was doing was keeping up the illusion that nothing between them had changed.
You’ll use me.I’ll use you.All’s fair.
“It means,” Rohan continued in the kind of whisper that was meant to befeltas much as heard, “that to achieve a necessary end, there are times when one must do things that perhaps one would… rather not.”
Needs must.Rohan brought his lips to hers.It had been his intention to kiss her lightly, teasingly, but Savannah Grayson was not one to be teased, and she was, apparently, not made for kissinglightly.
At least not with him.
There was more than one way for a girl like Savannah Grayson to go for the jugular.And then suddenly, her hands were on his chest.Suddenly, she was pushing him back, but not toward the cliff—and not so far that she had to let go of the front of his shirt.“Needs must when the devil drives,” Savannah said.“All’s fair in love and war.”
It took Rohan a moment—just one—to hear what she was really saying.“Proverbs.Idioms.”
“Don’t looka gift horse in the mouth.”Savannah let go of his shirt and let her hands fall to her sides.“Don’t judgea book by the cover.”
“Can’t seethe forest for the trees.Don’t putthe cart before the horse.”Rohan offered his face up to the morning sun, because it was either that or let himself relish the wayshelooked bathed in that same light.“Don’t countyour chickens before they hatch.”
“What you want,” Savannah quoted, “is number—”
“Three.The third line.”Adrenaline was an old friend of Rohan’s, as was risk.And letting himself continue to do this with herwasa risk.
A magnificent one.
“Can’t see the forest for the trees,” Savannah said.“That’s the third line of the riddle.And if we’re supposed to focus on thewithoutof it all…” Her top lip brushed against her bottom one for just a moment, not so much a pause as the tiniest little moment of victory.“On what’s missing…”
“The forest,” Rohan murmured, his lips brushing hers.“The trees.”
They did make an excellent team.
She will betray you, a voice very much like the Proprietor’s warned Rohan.If distractions were weakness,trustwas something far worse.
“Which part of the forest do you think we’re headed for?”Savannah said.
Rohan did love a challenge.“The outer edge?”he said.“Not within, but without.”A double meaning, perhaps?
“Which outer edge?”Savannah pressed.
Rohan pushed back.“You tell me, love.”
“This is Hawthorne Island.”Savannah’s gaze hardened like melted sand to glass.“They’re Hawthornes.They ruin everything they touch.”
Rohan smiled.“The burned part of the forest it is.”