Claimed by the Crown Prince, page 13
She was such a contradiction. Idealistic and pragmatic at the same time.
Feeling a little exposed—literally—Dax got up and pulled aside the net. The sun was streaming in. He winced. He went into the bathroom and took a shower, and then threw on shorts and a polo shirt. Left his feet bare.
He could get used to this living outside of time feeling. Days melting into nights and back into days. And now, adding Laia in his bed to the mix...? Maybe he’d just lose himself altogether and never re-join the real world? He could understand now why people dropped out of life and went backpacking for years.
Dax heard her low voice as he passed her bedroom and stopped in his tracks, suddenly feeling a little cold. What had he expected? That she’d be downstairs making them a cosy morning-after breakfast? He’d never have encouraged that of a woman in normal circumstances.
But then this woman hadn’t conformed to anything normal since he’d laid eyes on her in that club. And now, listening to her voice on the other side of the door, he realised that clearly Laia hadn’t checked out of the real world. She hadn’t lost herself.
Dax put his ear to the door but couldn’t make out what she was saying. It sounded like an online meeting. With her advisors? About her coronation? About plans to get on with her life when she went back to Europe?
Quietly, Dax tested the door, but it was locked. He went colder. Last night obviously hadn’t blurred the boundaries of what was happening here for her.
He had a very unwelcome feeling of something almost like hurt. Laia was just using him to experience what passion felt like before she moved on with her husband of choice. She’d told him as much. Dax was still a prisoner in paradise, and he’d be an idiot to forget it.
* * *
Laia terminated the online meeting. She wondered if Giorgio, her advisor, had noticed her dishevelment. She hadn’t showered yet. She’d only come into her room earlier because she’d heard her phone ringing in the locked cupboard.
It had been an unwelcome reminder of the outside world after a night and morning of passion such as she never could have imagined. When she’d seen numerous missed calls on her phone she’d gone hot and cold as the pressure of her responsibilities had come back. She’d pulled on a clean top and at the last second had closed and locked her door before joining the meeting.
Giorgio had confirmed that Maddi was still in Santanger and masquerading as Laia, apparently fooling everyone. He’d shown her a picture of them at a charity event and a headline: The look of love between King Aristedes and his future Queen!
Laia had studied the picture and had to concede that Maddi didn’t look as if she was pretending.
What was going on?
At that moment Laia had heard a sound, like the door handle being turned, but when she’d looked up she’d seen nothing.
She couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt at having shut Dax out. They had gone long past the point of locking doors, so she didn’t even know why she’d done it. Even if he contacted Aristedes now it was only days to her birthday and the coronation. He wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop her being crowned. And sleeping with Dax had as good as put a million nails in the coffin of the marriage agreement.
The real world was encroaching relentlessly, sooner than she liked.
Giorgio had just outlined the arrangements for her return to Isla’Rosa, as soon as she gave the word. But she hadn’t been able to give the word. Not yet. Even though she had no real reason to stay here any longer and a million reasons to return home—not least of which was to extricate Maddi from Santanger and figure out what was going on...
But now the meeting was finished, and in spite of Giorgio’s urging for her to come home soon, Laia was filled with sense of rebelliousness. Surely another day...another night...couldn’t hurt? Surely it wasn’t too much to ask when soon she would be handing herself over to a life of duty?
She’d have the rest of her life to think about more serious things. Like becoming Queen. And who she would marry.
When she thought of that, though, she felt cold inside. All she could see was Dax’s face above hers, intense and serious as he joined their bodies and transported her to another realm.
When she’d woken again that morning she’d been draped over Dax’s naked body. She’d managed to leave without disturbing him and she’d looked back at the last moment, seeing him in that same louche, sexy sprawl that she’d seen him in before.
For a second she’d felt breathless, wondering if it had all been a particularly lurid fantasy. But no. She was naked and aching. And she’d held her scrap of a silk dress in her hand. The dress he had removed from her body.
Laia took a shower. A part of her lamented washing the scent of Dax from her body. The scent of her becoming a woman. She left her hair damp and went into the dressing room. She spotted a white bikini—something she’d never have worn ordinarily, because it was too revealing. But now she imagined wearing it under Dax’s gaze, and she was filled with a newfound sense of daring. Or was it confidence?
She pulled on a loose thigh-high kaftan over the bikini and left her room. This time she didn’t lock the door. And she hadn’t locked away her devices.
She came down into the kitchen area but there was no sign of Dax. She spied the leftovers of a breakfast he’d obviously cooked for himself. She felt a pang of insecurity, disappointment, but then reminded herself that men like Dax didn’t do cosy mornings-after.
All was quiet. Too quiet.
She felt uneasy, imagining that he’d somehow managed to escape. Maybe he’d had enough and had just left. Vanished back into his life.
The thought was wrenching enough to make Laia pause for a second and consider if she really knew what she was doing. Dancing with the devil.
Except he wasn’t a devil. Far from it.
Dax had exploded every misconception she’d had about him. Every judgement.
He was not the man she’d thought he was. Not remotely. She had to acknowledge that she would never have even contemplated making love with him if she’d had any reservations, or if he’d shown a smidgeon of the reputation that followed him.
She knew she wouldn’t have slept with him unless she trusted him. And she did. Implicitly. She trusted him with her life.
Laia sat down heavily on a chair, her legs suddenly weak. At what point had she fallen in trust with him? She felt dizzy. She didn’t want to have feelings for Dax. He wasn’t the man she wanted to care about. Their lives weren’t aligned. They wanted different things.
Nothing had changed. She didn’t want him for anything beyond the physical. All that was between them was here and now. The present moment. For another day at the most. Twenty-four hours.
She was just feeling something for him because they’d been intimate, and she wasn’t experienced enough to divorce her emotions from the sex. That was all it was. A totally natural chemical response to what had happened.
She stood up again and ignored the fact that she still felt a little shaky. As if she hadn’t entirely convinced herself.
Dax had to be here somewhere.
After searching the media room and the pool, and still with no sign of Dax, Laia decided to put together a little brunch picnic and go down to the beach where she’d found him the other day.
When she emerged from the treeline she saw him straight away. He was sitting near the shoreline with his knees drawn up. His hair was wet—he’d obviously been swimming—and was wearing a pair of short swim trunks.
Laia was momentarily mesmerised by all that gleaming dark olive skin and muscle definition. She’d felt the awesome power in his body last night, and had a sense of how much it had taken for him to maintain control and be gentle with her.
As if sensing her behind him, he turned his head. She left the basket she’d brought under the trees, in the shade, and walked towards him.
She stood beside him, glad of the sunhat she wore. The hurt she’d felt that he’d not waited for her or made her breakfast still stung.
She pushed it away.
‘Here you are,’ she said.
‘You sounded busy.’
Laia frowned. ‘You heard me?’
Dax’s jaw clenched. He said, ‘Don’t worry, it wasn’t audible.’
Laia sank down beside him, guilt resurfacing. ‘You tried the door, didn’t you?’
‘I tested it, yes.’
Laia felt something very delicate unfurling inside her as she took in his tense demeanour. He was hurt.
Because she’d shut him out.
‘Dax, I did it without thinking. Not because I don’t trust you. The truth is that I was talking to one of my advisors about travelling back to Isla’Rosa, making arrangements.’
Dax smiled, but it was tight, humourless. ‘You’ve won—got your way. There will be no marriage.’
‘Not between me and your brother. No.’
He looked at her. ‘So there’s no real reason for me to stay here now, is there? Would you stop me leaving?’
Laia’s gut turned to stone. She knew what she had to say.
‘No, there’s no real reason for you to stay. Or me. Even if you told Aristedes where I am, there’s not much he can do about it now. If you want to leave, Dax, you can. But...’ She stalled.
Laia was ashamed to admit she was suddenly terrified. Terrified of what she wanted to ask and terrified of what Dax would do. This was his perfect opportunity to wreak revenge on her for having upended his life.
That cold blue gaze was so different from last night, when it had burned her alive. Laia shivered in spite of the heat.
He raised a brow. ‘But...?’
Laia dared herself to be vulnerable. ‘But I would like you to stay...until we have to leave.’
‘To do what, exactly?’
Laia’s insides dropped. He was angry, and he was wreaking his revenge, and she couldn’t blame him. He would walk away from her now...leave her behind.
For the first time in her life Laia realised that she’d protected herself from this kind of pain by not forming close relationships. Deep down she’d always feared rejection or abandonment, because of her mother’s untimely death.
Her half-sister Maddi was the only person she’d allowed herself to get close to, and it had taken her years to build up the courage to go and find her.
In that moment Laia felt absurdly emotional...as if she’d ruined something. She didn’t get emotional. She’d learnt at an early age to hide her emotions.
Her father had used to say to her, ‘You can cry in private, Laia, but no one wants to see their King or Queen be weak in public.’
Terrified Dax would see the tears pricking her eyes, Laia got up and said, ‘It’s fine. Forget it, Dax. If you want to go I won’t stop you.’
She turned and went back up the beach, but after a couple of seconds she heard a muffled curse behind her and Dax caught her arm, stopping her.
He came around and stood in front of her. Laia looked down. He tipped up her chin. She couldn’t hide her emotion. He cursed again.
He said, ‘I know it’s ridiculous, but after last night...that locked door was like a slap in the face. I’m not your enemy, Laia.’
No. He was something she didn’t even want to investigate.
Laia blinked back the emotion. Her chest felt very full. ‘I know that. It was a reflex. To be fair, it’s not as if I have all my doors open at the castle and people coming in and out as they please.’
He looked slightly horrified. ‘I should hope not. That would put your safety and security at risk.’
The thought of having someone like Dax caring about her safety and security made Laia feel wobbly all over again.
‘Do you want me to stay, Laia?’ Dax asked.
She felt as if she was on the verge of a cliff, with nothing to stop her freefalling over the edge.
She nodded. ‘Yes, but only if you want to.’
Dax cupped her jaw, a thumb moving across her cheek. ‘I want to. How long have we got?’
Laia had to ignore the dart of resentment that this was finite. That she had been born to a life of duty and responsibility.
‘Twenty-four hours...’
Dax smiled, and it was sexy and wicked. The tension was gone as if it had never been there.
‘Now you have me here for a whole twenty-four hours, what will you do with me?’
Laia fell over the edge of the cliff. It was a dizzying, soaring, swooping feeling of letting go all the shackles that bound her to everything she knew. Dax was here of his own free will. Because he wanted to be. Because he wanted to spend time with her.
But underlying it were a thousand voices urging her to be careful. What was she doing? What was she risking by indulging so selfishly like this?
She ignored them all. Pushed them away. Embraced her finite freedom.
Twenty-four measly hours. That was all she was asking for.
She couldn’t help smiling. ‘First, we eat. I brought a picnic.’
* * *
‘So, how many languages do you speak?’ Laia asked Dax.
Dax was leaning on his bent arm, long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. They were under the shade of the trees, eating the picnic Laia had prepared.
Laia was trying not to ogle his body. He looked up to the sky and squinted a little as he mentally calculated, and then he looked at her and said, ‘Seven.’
Laia’s mouth dropped open. ‘Seven? I only speak five.’
‘Which five?’ Dax popped a grape into his mouth.
Laia ticked off her fingers. ‘French, Spanish, German, Italian and English, of course.’
‘Oh, well, if we’re counting English then I’ve got eight.’
Laia sat cross-legged on the sand. ‘Okay, come on. Let’s have them.’
Now Dax ticked off his fingers. ‘English, Spanish, French, Italian, German, Mandarin, Russian and Arabic.’
Laia made a whistling sound. ‘That’s impressive.’
Dax shrugged. ‘I’m able to pick up languages very easily. I learn aurally. Make me write something down, though, and it’d be a disaster.’
‘Because of your dyslexia?’
Dax nodded.
‘Still, diplomatically you must go down a storm if you can converse with everyone.’
‘It does go well in meetings—especially when people don’t think I can understand what they’re saying.’
Laia could imagine people assuming Dax was all fluff and no substance.
She squinted at him. ‘Are you ever going to let people see the astute global businessman?’
He made a face. ‘I’m running out of people to surprise, so I might have to.’
Laia laughed.
Dax looked at her mouth.
The air crackled between them.
Laia hadn’t realised how long they’d been sitting under the trees, eating and drinking sparkling wine. She’d felt deliciously relaxed, and yet now, with Dax’s gaze on her mouth, she felt energised again.
She hadn’t taken her kaftan off, and she suddenly felt the heat of the day. ‘I might go for a quick dip to cool down.’
Dax stood up in an impressively fluid motion. He held out his hand. ‘I’ll come too. But we’ve just eaten so we should be careful.’
Another little piece of Laia’s heart tightened. This man was so considerate. How had he ever managed to persuade people he was a feckless playboy?
He stepped towards her and bent to grab the edges of her kaftan, pulling it up. ‘But first we leave this behind.’
It was up and off, over Laia’s head and on the sand behind her, before she knew what was happening, and Dax’s gaze made a slow perusal of her body in the skimpy white bikini.
This is how he got his reputation, a little voice pointed out.
Because he could look at a woman like this and turn her into a puddle of desire without even touching her. No wonder so many of his lovers had felt compelled to spill their guts about their time with him.
‘Why are you scowling?’
Laia realised Dax was looking at her face. She rearranged her features. She wasn’t about to tell him she was madly jealous.
‘No reason. Let’s go.’
He took her hand again and they walked to the water. Just before she could put a toe into the gently foaming waves Laia squealed, as the world was upended and Dax lifted her over his shoulder, striding into the sea.
She didn’t even bother protesting. She was enjoying the view of his muscular buttocks too much. She pushed aside all maddening thoughts of other women aside. She was here with him now, and he was staying because he wanted to. That was all that mattered.
* * *
Dax was lying on the sarong that Laia had brought down to the beach. They were drying off in the sun, near the shore.
His stomach still hurt from laughing at Laia’s indignant face after her dunking.
She’d actually said, ‘You do realise I’m about to be crowned Queen?’ And so he’d dunked her again.
He said now, ‘I can’t remember the last time I laughed that much.’
Laia huffed. ‘You’re easily pleased.’
Dax came up on an elbow and looked down at Laia. Her eyes were closed. Lashes long and dark on her cheeks. Her skin had taken on a deeper golden glow. That bikini needed to come with a health warning. It barely covered the firm swells of her breasts.
Her eyes opened and Dax looked away.
She squinted up at him. ‘When was the last time you laughed like that?’
It hadn’t been with a woman. No woman had ever made him laugh. He knew when, and it made him melancholic. ‘With Ari...when we were kids. Before he had to start going to his lessons.’
Dax put his hand on Laia’s flat belly, spreading his fingers out, revelling in the way her muscles quivered a little under his touch.
