Page 18 of Claimed By the Crown Prince

Oblivious to his inner turmoil, Laia said, ‘Thank you for that. I know you could have easily disabled me and let him know everything.’

Dax felt prickly, and it was directed at himself for being weak.

‘I’ve never laid a hand on a woman in my life unless it was to bring pleasure. I’m not going to start now. And anyway, even if I had let him know where we were and he’d sent the cavalry, how am I meant to take you back? By force? You’ve made it clear that’s not happening. I’ll just have to wait for you to come to your senses.’

CHAPTER FOUR

‘I’VENEVERLAIDa hand on a woman in my life unless it was to bring pleasure.’

Laia’s brain was fused with white-hot heat at the thought of Dax’s hands on her, bringing her pleasure.

She took a step backwards and said, a little breathlessly, ‘I don’t need to come to my senses. It’s your brother who has to come to terms with the fact that he’ll need to find a new royal bride.’

Dax shrugged. ‘Why don’t we agree to disagree for now?’

Laia didn’t trust this amenability for a second. Maybe he’d decided to play some kind ofgood coprole so that he could play on her sense of guilt and persuade her she had no option but to agree to the marriage.

No way.

Her resolve firmed, Laia went to walk out of the media room.

She was almost at the door when he said from behind her, ‘If you haven’t already planned something, shall I look at what we can have for dinner?’

She turned around. Dax had his hands in the pockets of his board shorts. They hung low on his narrow hips. Together with the white polo shirt that made his skin look even darker, and his messy, overlong hair, he could have passed for a sexy pro-surfer or athlete—not a royal crown prince.

‘You can cook?’ she asked baldly.

‘I’d hardly suggest it if I couldn’t, would I?’

The man was full of surprises.

‘That would be nice...if you don’t mind. The larder and fridge are well-stocked. I need to take a shower.’ She turned to leave, and then looked back at the last second. ‘I—That is...you don’t have to cook for me. We don’t have to eat together.’

‘You’ve ensured I’m stuck on this island with you for the foreseeable future. I think the least you can do is provide me with some company.’

Laia felt ridiculously gauche all of a sudden. ‘Yes, of course. I meant, I just don’t expect you to spend time with me if you’d prefer not to.’

A look flashed across his face—something that sparked a reaction deep inside her. An intense fluttering.

He said, ‘I think that horse has bolted. Go and have your shower. I’ll have the food ready when you come back.’

When Laia had dried off after her shower she considered her wardrobe, which was largely made up of casual wear, considering the location. She did have formal outfits—as she’d said to Dax, she had to be prepared for every eventuality. Anything could happen. She might be taken on a plane from here straight back to Isla’Rosa to deal with any amount of situations. She even had a funeral outfit. A black shift dress and matching jacket. Simple pearl jewellery.

But she usually veered away from black and thinking about death. She’d always felt as if grief had been embedded in her consciousness from birth, along with that sense of guilt and abandonment. Because it had coincided with the death of her mother.

She spotted a navy silk wrap maxi-dress and reached for it in a bid to divert her mind away from maudlin thoughts. Driven by a compulsion she didn’t want to investigate—to look pretty?—she pulled it on over her underwear, tying the belt around her waist.

She tied her hair back in a loose knot to let the air get to her neck. It was cooler in the evenings, but no less stifling. She was about to put on some make-up, but stopped herself.

What was she doing? Making herself up for her prisoner?

A tiny semi-hysterical giggle rose up and she put a hand over her mouth. Hands down, this was the most outlandish thing she’d ever done in her life.

There was a sound from outside the dressing room and then a deep voice. ‘Laia? Dinner is almost ready.’

She stepped out to see Dax in the doorway of her room. His gaze swept her up and down, from her bare feet to her face. A wave of heat followed his gaze.

‘You look...lovely.’

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