Page 113 of The Grandest Game

“Grayson fancies himself my protector,” Savannah said. “He would have put you down in a heartbeat.”

Rohan shrugged. “He would have been welcome to try.”

“The other Hawthornes would have broken up the fight—or possibly joined in—and that’s when I would have pinned the power outages on you, too.”

“But you didn’t,” Rohan noted dispassionately.

“Unlike some people, I have honor.” Savannah Grayson was a woman of her word—and thatsome peoplehadn’t been referring to him.

“It’s not time to destroy me,” Rohan said, his smile slow and a little jagged. “Yet.”

Savannah stepped right up behind him. “Yet,” she agreed.

Rohan turned, bringing them face-to-face. “Avery Grambs.” Rohan said the name, then looked to her jaw. “And there’s your tell, Savvy.”

He brought one hand to the telltale muscle along her jawline, skimming her skin.

“It occurred to me,” Rohan said calmly, “that the winner of the Grandest Game is crowned on a livestream with half the world watching.”

Savannah didn’t so much as blink.

Rohan leaned toward her, bringing his face even with hers. “Is that what you need forrevenge?”

With no warning, Savannah drove her hands through his hair, curling her fingers, angling his head backward—and this time, she wasn’tattacking. She also wasn’t gentle. “What I need,” she whispered, her lips very close to his, “is none of your concern.”

Turnaround was fair play—his hands inherhair. Could she feel his breath on her neck, right below the place where her jawbone met her ear?

“Tell me, Savvy. What did the Hawthorne heiress do? What are you planning?”

She surged toward him, capturing his lips with hers. Some kisses were just kisses. Some kisses were torture. Some were necessary, the way breathing was.

Some kisses made a point.

Savannah Grayson was brutal.And she cannot be trusted.Rohan knew that. He relished it, pulling back, reining in the desire to devour her whole and allow himself to be devoured in return.

“Savvy. You’re up to something.”

“So what if I am? You’ll use me. I’ll use you. That’s the deal.” She touched him, and the power of that touch exploded through Rohan’s body like fireworks, like fire, like the snapping of bone.

“Don’t forget the part about destroying each other,” Rohan whispered. “I’m looking forward to that.”

“Do I strike you as a person who forgets anything, British?”

“Tell me,” Rohan murmured into her lips. “What are you going to do if you win?”

“WhenI win,” Savannah corrected.

“When you win.”You aren’t going to win, love. Sooner or later, I’ll be forced to flip the switch.

Savannah stared at him and into him, like she could sense the darkness, like she wanted to see it. “WhenI win, I’m going to use the moment I claim the prize to let the world know exactly who Avery Grambs is. Exactly whotheyare.”

“The Hawthornes,” Rohan said.

“Without their army of lawyers to back them up. Without a PR machine. Without time to craft the perfect denial.” Savannah grabbed Rohan’s silk shirt in her hand. “They don’t know that I know.”

“Know what, Savvy?”

Savannah smiled, a tight-lipped, too-controlled smile that Rohan felt like fingernails down his back.