Playboy Princes (Royals of Arbon Academy, #2)(42)

“Thanks, I was looking for that,” I snapped, stomping across the room to snatch my lace garment from his hand. Unable to stop pushing his buttons, I gave him my back and dropped the sheet—allowing Jordan a full frontal view of me in nothing but a plaid skirt. Bit porno? Yep, totally. His tortured groan and wicked smile backed it up, while I slipped my bra back on and tried, then failed, to fasten the hooks.

“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered under my breath after missing the eyelet for the second time and totally ruining the sexy thing I’d been aiming for.

Warm fingers pried the fabric from my hands, and I froze.

“You look like you need help, Cinderella,” Rafe murmured in my ear, and damn it if my whole body didn’t quiver as his fingertips brushed my spine and his breath feathered my neck.

Yeah, that had backfired.

“Thanks,” I snapped, jumping out of his grip the second I felt my bra hook close.

He huffed a small laugh. “Anytime.”

Wow, like that wasn’t a loaded statement.

“One other thing, Jordy,” Rafe continued, like he hadn’t just chucked a roman candle down my pants and set it on fire. “I just heard who some of the special guests are for the Spring Ball.”

I frowned, trying to follow what he was talking about as I tugged my blouse on and buttoned it up with shaking hands. “The school dance?”

Jordan gave me a nod. “Yeah, it’s tradition to invite important guests—some crap to do with alliances and politics because Arbon tends to secure the majority of royals as students.”

“Most, but not all. So, often invitations to the Spring Ball are extended to other royals or aristocrats,” Rafe continued, giving a small grimace. “I just heard Meghan is going to be attending with her guardians.”

Jordan heaved a sigh, but I had no idea who Meghan was.

A cold chill of dread pooled in my belly. What if Meghan was Jordan’s betrothed?

“It gets worse,” Rafe said, and Jordan pulled a pained face. “I also found out that Zach’s somehow managed to secure an exchange student position here for the rest of the academic year.”

This one I knew. Jordan cursed, running a hand through his hair, then he clenched a fist like he wanted to punch something. Or someone. Probably Zach.

“Has anyone told Mattie?” he asked, showing—once again—that he was constantly thinking of everyone else. So cute. “She needs to know.”

“I’ll go tell her,” I offered, tugging on my socks and locating my left shoe.

Jordan huffed as he finished dressing himself. “We all will. We need to fill the others in on our plan for Alex, too.”

I grinned at his implication that I had any hand in his plan but agreed anyway.

Round two would have to wait; we had crappy news to deliver to my bestie.





Chapter 17





Mattie had been less than excited when we told her that Zachary Westbridge would be back at Arbon Academy in a matter of days. Still, she handled it well, vowing to pick up some random guy—or girl—in front of her slutty fiancé just to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Jordan’s virus idea cheered her up a whole lot, though, and I all but forgot about the mysterious Meghan until we were leaving Mattie’s room hours later.

“Hey,” I said, pausing Jordan with a hand on his arm as we approached the junction of hallways before the boys’ dorms. “Who’s Meghan? When Rafe said she was coming to the dance, you looked, I don’t know, annoyed? Should I be worried?”

Jordan wrinkled his nose, but shook his head. “Not at all, gorgeous. She’s… uh wow. I mean, this shouldn’t really come as any shock given what we know, but she’s my betrothed.”

My brows shot up, and my lips parted. Of course, the logical part of my brain knew he had a fiancée. All the royals did. And if they didn’t… well, apparently that was what the princess ballot was for.

Still, no one had mentioned Jordan’s intended—outside of Mattie’s cryptic words. But she was right, no girls pawed at him every meal break like Claudette did to Rafe. Part of me had hoped maybe she didn’t exist.

“Oh,” I said. Yeah, that was the best I could manage. My heart was at my feet, and my stomach was rolling with reality. Jordan was engaged… which meant I’d just had sex with an attached man. Oh fucking hell, I was the other woman in this scenario. Rafe’s engagement to Claudette didn’t count. She was a raging cunt who’d tried to have me killed.

Jordan shook his head, though, and laughed. “It’s not like that. I promise. Meggy is like… She’s like my sister. I legitimately can’t picture ever marrying her. Ever. Ever, ever, ever.” He shuddered dramatically to drive the point home, and I allowed it to lift my spirits a tiny bit. “I can see you’re still doubting me, but please, Violet, trust me. Meghan is not someone you need to worry about. I’ll introduce you at the dance, and you’ll understand.”

“Okay,” I replied, cautious and skeptical. It wouldn’t exactly be the first time a crown prince at Arbon Academy had played me for a fool, would it? “If you’re fucking with me, you know I’ll kill you, right?”

Jordan smiled this gorgeous, blinding smile that I badly wanted to kiss. Or would if I wasn’t suddenly second guessing everything between us..