Page 11 of Claimed By the Crown Prince

LAIAQUESTIONEDHERsanity in thinking this was a viable option. She’d sensed Dax’s volatility just now—like a crackling forcefield around him. She could only wonder how she would feel if she was in his shoes. A lot more vulnerable, for a start. Angry.Helpless.

Her conscience pricked hard.

Although the last thing he struck her as was helpless. In fact she wouldn’t put it past him to swim out to the security boat, overcome the guards and take off. He seemed entirely capable.

But if he tried that he would set off the alarm and they’d be ready for him.

In fact, when she thought about it, he wasn’t behaving as she might have expected of a playboy who was used to instant gratification and the constant stimulation of beautiful women and places. He didn’t seem to be hugely perturbed. Annoyed, yes, but not petulant that he was missing whatever nightclub opening he was due to attend.

Laia scowled at herself. It wasn’t like her to be bitchy. But this man appealed to her worst qualities.

Because he affects you, and you’re not honest enough to acknowledge how much.

She scowled even more.

She diverted her brain away from such uncomfortable things by focusing on what sheshouldbe thinking about. Orwho. Maddi, her lady-in-waiting and best friend. And, more sensationally, her half-sister, who was the product of the affair her father had had with a woman from the castle staff.

No one but them knew that they were sisters.

Her father had told her he’d always regretted how he’d handled it, because when he’d found out his lover was pregnant he’d sent her away, for fear of a scandal. He’d asked Laia to go and find her sister and tell her he was sorry.

Apparently Maddi, who lived in Ireland, had always known who she was and where she came from.

After her father’s death, Laia had been too grief-struck and shocked to go looking for her half-sister. And then, as time had passed, she’d grown apprehensive. Afraid of what she might find.

Someone who was resentful? Angry? Vengeful?

But eventually Laia had been able to ignore her conscience no longer and she’d gone to Ireland. And when she had found her half-sister Maddi had been none of the things Laia had feared.

Maddi had been shy. And yet there had been a strong bond between them from the moment they’d met. Laia had begged her sister to come to Isla’Rosa with her, to see where she came from. Maddi was the one who’d suggested working as Laia’s lady-in-waiting, to give her a chance to be anonymous and learn more about Laia and everything. They’d agreed that Laia’s coronation would be the opportune time to reveal Maddi as a member of the royal family.

Over the past year they’d forged an even stronger bond and had become inseparable. So when King Aristedes had followed them to that festival in the desert just days ago, demonstrating his determination to make Laia his wife, Maddi had suggested taking advantage of the fact that they were so alike they could pass for twins.

Before Laia had known what was happening she’d been bundled away by her security team and Maddi had taken off in a small sleek jet with King Aristedes, pretending to be her.

But obviously, since Dax had been on her trail so soon after their switch, Maddi’s impersonation of Laia couldn’t have lasted more than a few hours after her arrival with the King into Santanger.

Maddi had sent her a text—obviously before she’d known the King had discovered their ruse—saying that the King believed she was Laia, that she was okay, and asking where Laia was. Laia had responded—but only mentioning that she was in south-east Asia, for fear of someone taking Maddi’s phone. Since then there had been no more messages.

She knew Maddi was capable of looking after herself—she was a lot more street smart than Laia, thanks to having lived a regular life. And King Aristedes was a civilised man. He wouldn’t want adverse press at this time any more than she did, which was presumably why he wasn’t exposing his fake fiancée.

He would undoubtedly be expecting his brother to reappear at any moment, with Laia by his side. Was he hoping to merely switch his fake fiancée for his real one? Well, that wasn’t going to happen. Once.

Laia was Queen she would be in a much stronger position to negotiate with King Aristedes—about their marriageandpeace.

All she had to do was bide her time here until a couple of days before her birthday.

Here, on a romantic private island, with the one man in the world who makes you feel prickly and hot and full of a need you can’t even name.

Laia pushed that incendiary thought out of her head and focused on cooking the food. She wasn’t remotely Dax’s type—not that she wanted to be, she assured herself hurriedly.

For one thing, he always seemed to favour tall, slim blondes. A dramatic contrast to his dark good looks. And she was far too boring and staid for his tastes.

The persona she’d created of being a party girl was paper-thin. She’d become an expert at appearing at the opening of an event only to be curled up in bed with a book an hour later, with no one any the wiser. She’d realised that once peoplesawyou there, they just assumed you were there for the night. And she’d always made sure she appeared in the press.

Within a couple of days her guest would be climbing the trees with boredom, but there was nothing Laia could do to help that. There was no way she was jeopardising her future when she was close enough to feel the weight of the Isla’Rosa crown on her head and know that she was taking her own destiny, and that of her country, into her own hands and no one else’s.

Later that evening Dax wandered into the kitchen, rubbing his wet hair with a towel. He’d just had a shower in the changing gazebo after a swim in the lap pool, and felt marginally less edgy and irritated after expending some energy.