Playboy Princes (Royals of Arbon Academy, #2)(55)

"Violet, if I find out that someone else has been putting their hands on my property," Alex told me in a scary calm voice, "I'd be inclined to cut those hands off at the wrists. Don't think to underestimate my reach."

It was almost laughable. Here I was worried he somehow knew Jordan and I planned to frame him for breaking into a highly classified server and stealing the data files. All he could think about was whether some other guy had been warming my bed.

"I'm not your property," I spat in reply as we reached Alex's dorm room and he opened the door. "What are we doing here, anyway?"

Instead of answering, he just shoved me into his room and slammed the door shut behind him. The only thing that saved him from a broken nose and knee to the balls was the fact that he didn't lock it.

"Get in," he ordered me, nodding to his huge bed. His hands worked his tie, loosening it and tugging it off before starting on his shirt buttons.

I shook my head. "No way. I thought I made it pretty fucking clear I'm never sleeping with you again, Alex."

The look he gave me was like I'd just farted out my mouth. "Get in the fucking bed, Violet, or Matisse and Nolan will pay for your disobedience."

I blinked rapidly, feeling the sting of his threat like a physical blow.

Fuck me. Why'd I have to go forming friendships? I knew better. Friends made you vulnerable. They gave your enemies leverage where otherwise they might not have any.

Alex smiled the kind of smile a shark might give a clown fish. "Now you're getting it. I may not be able to touch those other two lovesick fools—yet—but the Guays are way, way, way down the ladder. Easy to crush with one’s boot."

And there it was. He couldn't touch me because I had no property, no title, no political aspirations and he wouldn't stand a chance in a fair fight. He couldn't touch Jordan or Rafe because, right now, their kingdoms were more powerful than his. But Mattie and Nolan? They were sitting ducks. Collateral damage. Fucking leverage.

God damn it all to hell.

But still, where did that leave me?

"I'm not letting you fuck me," I finally replied, looking carefully to the side as he stripped his shirt off.

The coy smile on his face as he approached me, shirtless, was the same one he'd used on me a hundred times. The same smile that used to make my stomach flip and my heart race. The one that said I was his whole universe and no other woman could ever compare.

"Come on, Violet," he murmured, sounding... sincere? "Do you really feel nothing for me, anymore? We were in love not so long ago. Those feelings don't just disappear overnight." He reached up and gently stroked some hair out of my face, just the same way he'd done when we'd been dating.

Damn him. Memories assaulted me, pausing my need to murder him.

He seized the moment, untucking my shirt from my skirt and flicking several buttons open before I snapped myself out of it.

"Stop it!" I snarled, my hand cracking across his face when he tried to unzip my skirt. "It was fake, Alex. All of it was fake. You were sleeping with Claudette, for fuck’s sake!"

I backed away from him, tugging the sides of my shirt closed even as I shook with pure rage. It was mostly at him, but also at myself for that brief moment when I’d let those memories back in.

"We all make mistakes, Violet," he replied, not looking apologetic in the least. "Let me make it up to you..." He reached out, and I smacked his hand away.

Alex's ocean-blue eyes flared with anger. I braced myself for a fight, but it never came. Instead, his palm reader flashed and blipped with an incoming call, and he froze.

"Get in the bed," he barked at me, his whole demeanor shifting into aggression and menace. "Now. Or I'll get Mattie expelled."

There was no way in hell I'd let him rape me, but something else was going on here. He almost looked afraid as he swiped a hand through his blond hair and stared down at his wrist, so I did as he instructed.

When I was sitting against the headboard, he slid in beside me and tugged me sharply until we were flat on our backs, sharing a pillow. Then he answered his call.

The holographic image that projected from his palm reader into the space before us made me almost swallow my own tongue, and a chill of dread settled over me. If I'd had any doubts that this ballot bullshit was bigger than the two of us, this confirmed it.

"Mum, Dad," Alex greeted the gorgeous, golden-haired couple on the image, "you kind of caught us at a bad time..." He gave his parents a sly grin, implying that we'd been fooling around when they called.

Bile churned in my stomach, and I could feel how pale I must have gone. Hopefully they just chalked it up to a bad hologram signal or intimidation at meeting the King and Queen of Australasia for the first time.

"So I see," Alex's father, King Steve the Fourth, grinned lasciviously. It was gross as fuck, considering I was supposedly in his own son's bed right now. "This must be the mysterious Violet. She’s even more beautiful than you let on, son."

"Oh," Queen Sheila gushed, pressing a hand dramatically to her chest. "Oh, you two make just the most gorgeous couple. Oh, honey, don't they look good together?" She pawed at her husband and then turned back to us on the screen. "You two will make just the most beautiful babies, I can already tell."