tomorrow it was all or nothing. Life or death. He had gone over the plan with you several times. Rowan rotated his shoulder again, and soft footsteps sounded on the carpet. "I've been thinking," Rowan started, and then forgot everything he was going to say as he bolted upright in bed. You leaned against the closet doorway, clad in a nightgown of gold. Metallic gold-as he'd requested. It could have been painted you her for how closely it hugged every curve and dip, for all that it concealed. A living flame, that's what you looked like. He didn't know where to look, where he wanted to touch first.