Page 53 of Claimed By the Crown Prince

He said, ‘I did everything I could, but she wouldn’t listen. And she wouldn’t let me drive, even though I knew how. I might not have been legal, but I would have been safer than her. She took a corner too fast and we went straight off the road into a ravine... I had barely a scratch on me. A broken wrist. That was it.’

Laia felt cold. ‘She could have taken you all the way down with her.’

Dax said nothing for a long moment, and then, ‘In a way she did.’

Laia thought of something. ‘The other night you were saying that you didn’t deserve me...or this... You really believe you don’t deserve what...? For someone to want you?’

Dax tensed visibly. ‘Because it’s my fault. I didn’t help her. I watched her self-destruct. I let it happen. And then I turned my back on Santanger and a life of duty. I don’t believe I deserve good things. Just like I don’t deserve to be protected. I won’t have a security team because I won’t let anyone risk their life for me.’

Laia’s heart ached at Dax’s pain and palpable guilt. At the thought that he wouldn’t put anyone at risk because of him.

She said, ‘You know, we have something in common.’

He looked at her. ‘We do?’

She nodded. ‘I blame myself for my mother’s death too. Even though I know it’s not rational. But if I wasn’t here...she would still be alive.’

‘And you wouldn’t be here.’ Dax shook his head, ‘You can’t possibly think like that.’

‘Your guilt and sense of responsibility isn’t rational either.’

‘Isn’t it?’

‘Why did you take the blame for the crash?’

‘Because I wanted to protect her reputation. It was all she had. Her pride. No one outside of the palace knew how bad she was.’

No wonder he’d abdicated so much of his other responsibilities—he’d been crushed under the weight of this one.

‘It wasn’t your responsibility.’

He looked at her. ‘Wasn’t it?’

Laia shook her head. ‘No, it wasn’t. But you did it because you loved her and wanted to protect her.’

And now he didn’t believe in love.

For a moment it was as if the sun had gone behind a cloud, even though there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Dax reached for Laia, putting his hands on her waist and laying down, pulling her over him.

Her salty damp hair fell around them in a tangle. Her skin felt sandblasted. She was pressed against him, every inch. And she suddenly wanted him again with a hunger that rose up like a wildfire.

Her hands were splayed on his chest. Over that tattoo. She covered it with her fingers. She didn’t want to think about that now. He caught her hair and moved it over one shoulder, wound it around his hand, tugging her head down to his.

Something silent moved between them.

Enough talking.

Laia needed no further encouragement to lower her head to Dax’s and cover his mouth with hers. At first she was tentative, shy. Dax was under her, all that power and strength, and she felt self-conscious. Aware that she couldn’t possibly be as alluring as his other lovers.

But then she felt him smile against her mouth, and she put her hands around his face and kissed him with all the pent-up emotion he was causing within her, simultaneously hating him for not just being the Playboy Prince and feeling a multitude of complicated emotions for the man he actually was.

Dax quickly took control, flipping them so that Laia was under him, one of his thighs between hers. His body was stirring against her. She moved against him. He shook his head. She pouted. He laughed.

‘We are not making love here. We have no protection.’

Laia cursed her lack of foresight. Dax stood up and took her hand, pulling her up. They gathered up the picnic detritus and made their way back to the villa.

Dax took the picnic things from Laia and put them down on the kitchen table, then led her up to his suite, where he took her into the bathroom. He turned on the shower, which was open to the elements, and steam drifted upwards and all around them.

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