“How the hell can you manage to do that but not catch a football?”

“I caught it once!”

Jace shakes his head as he walks over and climbs onto the diving board. I swim over to the edge of the pool to watch him. He walks out to the edge of the board and then dives cleanly into the water, swimming the full length of the pool and emerging at the other end. He flips around and swims back to the opposing end. I roll onto my back, floating on the surface of the water as I stare up at the cloudless sky and listen to Jace’s rhythmic strokes.

I eventually swim back to the edge of pool and pull myself out of the water once my fingertips begin to prune. Jace swims a couple more laps and then does the same. My mouth goes dry at the sight of the water sluicing off his arms and dropping down the chiseled planes of his abdomen.

We sit in near silence side by side on the stones that surround the pool, warmed by the late afternoon sun. The only sound is the slow drip of water off our bare legs back into the pool.

“What’s he like?” Jace suddenly asks.

I glance over, but he’s staring at the clear water. I don’t need to ask who he’s referring to.

“He’s fine,” I reply. “Nice, friendly, easygoing. I’ve known him since we were kids.” I pause. “We’ll never be an epic love story, but we get along fine.”

“It sounds like he’ll be your bitch.”

I laugh, startled. After months of deference, I’ve forgotten how blunt Jace can be.

“I’ll be queen,” I tell him, winking. “Everyone will be my bitch.”

“So, why’s he doing it?” Jace asks. “I know why you have to get married, but why is he?”

“He’ll be my consort. There are a lot of privileges that comes with. Money. Power. Influence.”

“Isn’t his family already rich and powerful?”

“Yes, but not to the same extent.”

I feel Jace’s eyes on me. “He has feelings for you, doesn’t he?”

I sigh. “He’s said some things that suggest that. And he was pretty upset about the inferences the press is making. About us.”

Jace returns his gaze to the water.

“What about you?” I voice the one question I promised myself I wouldn’t ask him. “I’m surprised a cheerleader or model hasn’t caught your eye yet. Or has one?” I try to lighten the questions with a teasing tone.

“There’s no one.” Jace’s response is brisk.

“I saw what it was like at Lincoln. It must be even crazier now.”

Jace doesn’t reply, which makes me even greedier for information I have no right to know.

“You don’t—”

“Excuse me, Princess?” One of the younger maids appears on the patio next to us.

“Yes?” I turn away from Jace reluctantly.

“She told me—I was asked to—you’re supposed to—” The maid stammers, her gaze locked on Jace. More specifically, his impressive physique.