Playboy Princes (Royals of Arbon Academy, #2)(84)

He opened his mouth to say something, but I was already gone, pushing through the crowd as I tried to hold my shit together.

I couldn’t stay in here a second longer. I needed some air, but I was also afraid to wander around alone. Clearly King Three-inch-dick had big plans to lock me down, and I couldn't let him get his hands on me. I’d disappear never to be seen again.

My palm reader buzzed.

Angel: Jordan’s room. Now.

With a quick look around, I slipped out of the ballroom, lifting the skirt of my dress so I could run along the halls. Before I made it close to Jordan’s though, a dark shadow stepped onto the path in front of me, and I just managed not to kick Rafe in the head.

“You’re lucky I’m wearing heels,” I said shortly.

His hands shot out, rubbing along my arms. “You’re trembling,” he said, fury vibrating his voice.

I shook my head. “Yeah, had a rather unpleasant conversation with Alex’s father.” I leaned in closer, pressing myself to Rafe like that would erase slimy Steve’s touch. I really loved this dress; it was a fucking shame I’d have to burn it now. “He basically implied that he had Jasmine killed because she deliberately got pregnant with his child and tried to blackmail him into becoming queen.”

I mean, there was a lot of reading between the lines there, but I was pretty sure that was the message he was putting out there. Rafe and I remained close as I whispered everything to him, and if anyone strode past, we probably just look like we were young lovers making out in the dark.

“That’s what my parents suspected happened to Jasmine,” he growled. “Apparently in their younger years, Steve was well known for his wandering dick.”

I breathed Rafe in slowly, trying to calm the pounding of my heart. “He asked me to go back to Australasia with them. Said I don’t need to worry about school because I’m going to get pregnant with heirs and there’s nothing more important for me to do with my life.”

Rafe’s chest rumbled under my cheek, and when I tilted my head back, even in the dim lighting it was clear how dark his eyes had gotten. “You’re about to cause an international incident, Violet Spencer,” he murmured, his lips grazing mine as his hands continued to caress my back, calming me down.

“I wanted to kill him,” I confessed. “Every time he opened his mouth. Every single time he touched me inappropriately, I thought about the dozens of ways I could end his life. It would have almost been worth it.”

“I want to kill him, too,” he murmured, eyes lifting to stare over my head. “But you did the right thing. Now is not the time. We have to be smart about it when it comes to powerful monarchies.” His voice got deeper. “But if I’d had to see him paw at you like that for one more second, I might have taken the fucking risk and dealt with the fallout.”

Whatever had caught his attention over my shoulder arrived right behind me, and I sighed as Jordan’s arms came around me. He was half-hugging Rafe at the same time, but neither of them seemed bothered about it, focusing on me.

“We need to get back in there,” Jordan finally said, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. “Meghan wants to meet Violet, and I have heard a few people speculate as to where Rafe went. ”

I pulled away, looking at them both. “Meghan? As in your betrothed?” I swallowed roughly, wondering if I was a big enough person to meet the chick engaged to the guy I was somewhat, kinda, crushing hard on.

Jordan shook his head. “It’s not like that. We’re friends… like siblings at best. She knows how I feel about you.”

Wow. Okay. How did he feel about me? I’d also like to know.

He glanced at his watch. “We gotta get back,” he said before I could push him more about his feelings.

“Shit! Are we going to get into trouble?” I asked, shoving thoughts of Meghan, his sibling-slash-fiancée, aside. Or trying to at least.

Jordan shook his head. “Rafe and I are safe. But I don’t want anyone looking your way, so let’s sneak you back in.”

“Don’t let Steve or his fucking son anywhere near her,” Rafe snarled. “Or I won’t be able to stop myself from ending the current royal reign in Australasia.”

Jordan gave a grim nod. "Agreed."

"Macho men," I grumbled, "I'm perfectly capable of slitting throats myself, you know?"

The three of us started making our way back toward the ball, but a shadowy figure stepped out into our path, blocking the way.

"Excuse me," Jordan said politely, but the man stepped closer, holding up his hands to show he wasn't armed... I think.

"Ms. Spencer," the stranger said, and his voice seemed familiar. "Could I have a word?"

"Mr. Wainwright?" I asked, coming closer so I could see his face in the dim light. "What are... I mean, hi. This is unexpected."

The older man gave a tight, uncomfortable smile and shot a quick look at Rafe. "Highness, I need to speak with Ms. Spencer. On orders."

As the personal assistant to the dean, he certainly didn’t outrank the royals, but they seemed to understand what his vague words meant. Rafe still stiffened and scowled.

"Please, Your Highness." Mr. Wainwright was firm. “You know this is important.”

"Fine," Rafe said on an exhale. "But we will be nearby, so don't pull any shit."