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“Thanks for the food,” he called over his shoulder. “Holler if you need help with the yard.”
“Only if you’ll bring your girlfriend over.”
Blake shook his head and climbed back in his truck.
Brat.
He waved and backed out of his sister’s drive. As he headed toward home, his neck tensed in anticipation of seeing Savannah.
* * *
Savannah’s eyes fluttered open. She was floating on a warm cloud of indescribable bliss, and her entire body tingled with satisfaction. Her mouth stretched in an involuntary smile.
Last night, Blake had given her mind-blowing pleasure, and he’d done it without removing his boxers.
He’d focused on making their encounter special for her. Even if it meant denying himself.
No one had ever given her such intense pleasure or focused solely on her needs. Savannah groaned. She’d finally met a man who made her want things. Things she hadn’t allowed herself the luxury of wanting.
God, why does he have to be an Abbott?
Because apparently the universe hated her.
As she’d given in to her desire for him, she’d convinced herself she could remain detached and keep their encounter impersonal. Transactional.
But when he looked into her eyes, all she’d seen was Blake. Not his family versus hers. Not the history of their grandfathers. Nothing but him.
For a few hours, she’d allowed herself to buy into the delusion that she could have him and still get justice for her family.
But she couldn’t have both. At some point, she’d have to choose. And her allegiance was to her own family.
Savannah sighed and rolled over. Blake wasn’t in bed. She got dressed and went down to the kitchen.
No Blake.
She walked through the house, calling him without response. His truck wasn’t in the garage. When she returned to the kitchen, she saw his note.
Gone to rustle us up some breakfast.
She couldn’t help smiling. Smart-ass.
Why couldn’t he stop being funny and thoughtful and all-around adorable? He was making it difficult to focus on her mission. Which was the only thing that mattered.
She was alone in Blake Abbott’s house. She’d never get a better opportunity to see if there was anything there that could shed light on what had happened between their grandfathers.
She went to Blake’s office. The door was unlocked, but the moment she opened it, the dogs ran down the hall and greeted her.
Savannah shut the door and stooped in front of the dogs, petting them and giving Benny a peck on his nose.
“Stay here. I just need to take a quick peek.” Savannah slipped inside, shutting the door behind her. The dogs yipped in protest.
A loud thump nearly made her jump out of her skin. One of the dogs had jumped against the door.
Benny. The thud was too heavy to be Sam.
She glanced around. The neat, organized room was flooded with sunlight.
She had no idea how long it would be before his return. There was no time to waste.
Savannah searched the bookshelves. She looked through drawers and scanned files for anything related to the company’s origin. She sifted through his desk drawers, hoping to find something…anything.
There was nothing out of the ordinary.
She spotted his laptop. The same one he used at work.
Frustrated, Savannah sat down at the large oak desk and groaned. She bumped the mouse and the screen woke.
It was unlocked.
He’d obviously used it that morning and hadn’t been gone long. Savannah rummaged through the computer directories. All she found were the same files she accessed at work.
Savannah pulled open the desk drawer again and lifted the organizer tray. A photo of Blake, Sam and a woman was wedged in back.
The ex.
She was pretty, but something about her didn’t feel real.
Hypocrite.
She was under Blake’s roof, sleeping in his bed and trying to stage a coup at his family’s company.
At least his ex had been up-front with her treachery.
Guilt gnawed at Savannah’s gut. She replaced the photo and then put the drawer back in order.
There were few personal photos elsewhere in the house, but the office walls and shelves were filled with family pictures and photos of King’s Finest employees—many of whom had worked for the Abbotts for decades.
Savannah was struck with deep, painful longing for her own family. The parents she’d never see again. The ailing grandfather who’d raised her. Her sister and young niece. They were the reasons she was doing this.
She had no desire to hurt Blake, but this was war. And in war, there were always casualties.
Her family hadn’t started it. But she sure as hell would finish it.
Even if it meant hurting Blake.
She was a spy working on the side of right. Sometimes trickery and deceit were required. And sometimes people got hurt. Good people. People you liked. But wasn’t getting justice for her family more important than hurting Blake Abbott’s pride?
