Page 19 of Claimed By the Crown Prince

Laia should be cursing herself, because now he would think she’d done this for him, but she couldn’t seem to drum up the necessary recrimination.

‘It’s nothing special...it’s just light and cool.’

Why did she sound so defensive?

Dax said, ‘Why don’t you go down? I’ve prepared you an aperitif. I’ll have a quick shower and freshen up too.’

Feeling slightly as if she’d stepped into some parallel dimension, Laia watched Dax turn and leave. She locked her own bedroom door and put the key in its hiding place.

She went downstairs, curious as to what she’d find. First she noticed the delicious smell, and saw something simmering on the stove. She lifted the lid. It looked like a beef stew with vegetables and spices.

Then she noticed a glass with clear liquid and ice on the counter. And a slice of cucumber. She lifted it up and smelled it, her nose wrinkling slightly. She wasn’t much of a drinker, and this definitely smelled alcoholic.

She tried it. Gin or vodka—she wasn’t sure which. But it tasted refreshing and light.

She wandered over to the outside deck and looked out over the view. It never failed to take her breath away.

Dusk was falling into night. She could see the lights of the fishermen in their boats. She could see her own security team’s boat. The two men were operating in shifts with another team. They would be quietly coming and going, being delivered to and from the bigger island, every couple of days.

The nights here always reminded her of velvet, because the warm air felt like a caress...

And then she heard a noise behind her and her skin prickled all over. She turned around. Dax had changed into dark trousers and a white shirt, sleeves rolled up, top button open. His hair was damp. Jaw clean-shaven. Feet bare. As were hers. For some reason that made her blood pulse. It felt intimate. When really, in this climate, it was just practical.

He looked very different from the rakish, messily gorgeous man she’d met after that polo match all those years ago, but no less sexy. More sexy, if anything. He was a man now. He’d lived. His body was honed and tightly muscled. Like a prize fighter.

‘Laia, if you stare at me any harder I might explode.’

She blinked, and realised she was gripping the glass tightly. She relaxed. ‘I was a million miles away.’

Dax put a hand to his chest. ‘Youweren’tthinking about me?’

Laia fought down the rising flush. She took a sip of her drink and tried to appear nonchalant. ‘Not everything is about you.’

She sat on a stool on the opposite side of the island and watched as Dax moved easily around the kitchen. Clearly at home there.

He said, with an edge to his tone, ‘Oh, don’t worry, I’ve known for a long time that it’s not all about me.’

She knew immediately what he was talking about, and said quietly, ‘You mean because you’re the spare?’

He stopped in the middle of chopping a slice of cucumber for his own drink. Looked at her. ‘You know, you’re probably one of the few people in the world who would get that straight away.’

‘I don’t have a spare. It’s all on me.’

Dax made a face and lifted his drink in her direction as a salute. ‘Having a spare doesn’t necessarily mean all that much difference. I never did the same classes as Ari. In many respects I’m not remotely prepared if something happens. It’s as if just having a spare is enough.’

Laia remembered what it had been like, enduring endless lessons in stuffy rooms when it had been sunny outside.

‘So you were separated at lot as children?’

‘From the age of eight Ari was on a different schedule. There were weeks I hardly saw him. I was six.’

‘You’re obviously close...’

Dax took a sip of his drink. And then he said simply, ‘I’d do anything for Ari.’

Laia felt her heart squeeze when she thought of Maddi andherselflessness. She said, ‘I always wished for a sibling when I was growing up. I used to lie awake, worrying about what would happen if anything happened to me.’

‘And yet here you are. Safe and well and about to be crowned Queen. But you’re choosing not to make the process easier by marrying a man who is already King and who would help you carry the burden you’ve been carrying alone for years.’

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