Page 11 of Deposed

“Keep your eyes open.” Henry pushed the finger further into my mouth.

I glared up into his eyes. The pupils were wide and hungry, bordered by a thin ring of green. Henry’s tongue darted out to lick his lips, reminding me of that evening he knelt in front of me behind the oak tree. His breaths were hard and labored and as fast as the pulse pounding between my legs. He stepped closer, filling my senses with his huge body, his citrus and mint scent.

I drew back and turned my head, so Henry’s finger slipped out from my mouth. Through ragged breaths, I asked, “Is that all you want? To humiliate me?”

“Private humiliation is only part of the bargain,” said Edward. Henry stepped back, giving him the space to stand in front of me and announce, “You’re going to repair our reputations.”

“How?” My brows drew together.

“Blake’s mother has him going to Narcotics Anonymous meetings, in case Rudolph Trommel releases the videos at some point to humiliate the royal family.”

“That’s wrong,” I spat. “How is kissing a boy related to being an addict?”

Edward raised a shoulder. “Mrs. Simpson-West’s answer to everything these days is to accuse Blake of being addicted to drugs.”

“Thanks to you,” said Blake.

“Fine. I’ll go with you to your NA meetings.” It couldn’t be worse than sitting through Mr. Frost’s Latin classes.

“And pose for the press.”

My brows drew together. “Press—”

“Don’t act like you don’t love being in front of the camera,” Henry snapped. “Your pictures with Bachmann are all over the society pages.”

Jerking my head to the side, I pressed my lips together and stared at a small portrait of a knight in armor. One of Edward’s ancestors, I supposed. How could I reply to a comment like that, considering I’d gone along with Sergei’s plan to become his beard? At the time, I had wanted to create a little intrigue about myself, so that when I returned to Mercia Academy, it would be as the confidante and possibly lover of a famous classical pianist, not just the trollop they’d sent away via a gauntlet.

“Fine,” I said with a huffed breath. “I’ll pose with you.”

Edward cupped the side of my cheek. A tender gesture, until he turned my head back so I could look him in the face. His eyes were as blue and stormy and as cold as clouds over the arctic. “Henry’s parents are convinced that he’s gay, and they’re threatening to disown him if he doesn’t produce a suitable girlfriend.” Edward prodded me on the shoulder. “You’re going to be that girl.”

“Why not one of the many sycophants in Elder House like Charlotte?”

“She hasn’t returned,” said Blake.

“I don’t want any of those girls,” said Henry. “Only you.”

A gust of frustration huffed out of my lungs. “You didn’t want me enough to clear my name. Why are you forcing me to be your fake girlfriend?”

His glare hardened. “Who said it would be fake?”

“It would be from my end.”

He stepped forward, green eyes blazing. “Will you do it or not? They’re in Dubai right now, and I need to contact them to arrange a meeting.”

“Alright,” I snapped. Their demands were irritating but nothing I couldn’t handle. I turned to Edward. “What do you want from me, Mercia?”

“Help with a fundraiser to rebuild the academy’s reputation.”

My shoulders drooped. “That’s it?”

He stepped back. “That’s all. You’ll come with me to the next meeting of the Board of Governors, and we’ll present a few ideas.”

I stared after him, head tilting and trying to absorb his every feature. This would be the easiest request of all, but why was his request so unselfish? Keeping the relief out of my features, I made an impatient huff. “Can I go, now?”

“No,” said Henry. “You’re going to provide us with a little entertainment.”

“I’m not sucking anything else.”