Page 18 of The Robin on the Oak Throne

In another life, she would have been able to read him and know what all this teasing meant. But it couldn’t be genuine. Graves was lots of things—dangerous, secretive, charming, mysterious, disarming. What he wasn’t was sincere or forthright or honest or, god help her, seductive. He’d never had to use wiles to get her to fall for him. In fact, the asshole that he was had done the trick.

They were so alike in so many ways. Both closed off and ruined from abandonment—her by her father when she was a child, him by basically every person who had ever trampled through his life. They’d had to claw their way through the dirt from their buried coffins to notoriety.

Maybe they’d beentooalike, and that had been the problem.

“Let’s review the plan,” she said instead, turning her back on the rather inviting bed.

“Excellent suggestion,” Graves said. He put his back against a wall, hands in his pockets. “Break out of our luxury suite.”

“Easy enough.”

“Locate the hidden room where Estelle keeps her prized possessions.”

“One floor above us cloaked by illusion magic and warded. All of which I can absorb easily.”

He grinned. “Collect the cauldron.”

“You don’t know if there’s a vault or extra security?”

“The vault I’m not sure of, but security is handled,” he said, checking his phone again. “Almost set on that front. I assume you can handle a vault by yourself.”

“Obviously,” Kierse said. “And my exit is…”

“Through the window onto the roof.”

“And what willyoube doing in all of this?” Kierse asked.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Might take a nap.”

“You’re joking.” Then she narrowed her eyes. “Since when do you joke?”

“When I know that someone is going to understand my wit.”

She scoffed. “If you say so.”

“I will be covering your exit.” He stared down at his phone once more. “Now, get ready.”

“For what?”

“George almost has the security system down.”

“George can hack security systems?” she asked with wide eyes. “Your driver?”

“Like I would choose anyone in my employ for a single skill set.”

Kierse eyed him appreciatively. He certainly hadn’t chosen her for just one talent.

“He’s good. Here we go. The cameras are going downin…” Graves held his fingers up.

Kierse cursed under her breath and rushed to the door. “How long will I have before they come back up?”

“If we’re lucky, a half hour, but could be closer to fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes,” she hissed.

“And three, two, one…go.”

He pointed at her, but she was already darting out of the room. Fifteen minutes.Fifteen minutes. Fucking hell.

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