Page 34 of Claimed By the Crown Prince

She sat there in a semi stupor for long minutes. Rendered insensible by a kiss. A mere kiss. It was pathetic, really. But it was also glorious. The culmination of all her ardent longings since she’d laid eyes on him that first time in Paris. And it had surpassed anything her fevered brain could have imagined.

She visualised Dax coming back down to check on her and finding her here like this—wrecked after a kiss—and scrambled to her feet.

She tried to reduce the significance of what had just happened as she walked back. It had just been the culmination of years of longing for something—if Dax kissed her again surely it wouldn’t have the same effect?

But just the thought of Dax kissing her again made Laia almost miss her footing on the path. She cursed softly. She had to get it together. She had a job to do. Seduce Dax, and in the process make it crystal-clear that she would never be marrying his brother.

And then put Dax and the past behind her and get on with her life. A life on her terms.

Dax was coming down to the kitchen level after taking a long, cold shower when Laia returned from the beach. She looked like a sexy sea nymph, with her hair in a wild sea salt tangle around her shoulders and skin burnished from the sun. Bare feet.

At least she was wearing the kaftan, which covered her body from throat to thigh. But even in spite of that he remembered what she’d felt like pressed against him, and the effects of the cold shower wore off in an instant.

Merda.

She looked at him. ‘You wanted to talk to your assistant?’

He’d forgotten completely. ‘Yes.’

‘Is it okay if I shower first? And then I’ll bring the phone down.’

Dax made some sound of assent and tried not to imagine Laia in the shower.

She padded upstairs to the bedrooms.

Dax wasn’t sure what he’d expected, and it should be agoodthing that she obviously wasn’t going to make any reference to the kiss, but it also made him feel prickly.

Had she taken his words to heart and put it down to a mistake, too? Happy to forget about it? Even though he would bet that it had been as erotic an experience for her as it had been for him, if her reaction had been anything to go by.

Now he felt incensed that she seemed inclined to ignore it. Which was ridiculous. He’d betrayed his brother just by kissing her! He’d created a situation where he would have to endure watching Laia by Ari’s side while the memory of that kiss burned a hole in his gut.

No. It was just a kiss. A kiss that meant nothing.

Dax cursed again and went to the kitchen, randomly pulling out ingredients. He needed to make himself busy.

After about half an hour, Laia was back.

Dax’s brain went blank for a second. She was wearing cut-off shorts and a Lycra crop top that lovingly outlined her breasts. Her waist dipped in and flared out again gently. Her skin was smooth and golden. Dark hair was pulled back into a damp plait.

It took him a moment to realise she was holding out the phone. ‘John is on speaker.’

Dax’s brain was sluggish. He wanted to snatch the phone from her and instruct his assistant to send a plane, helicopter—anything—immediately. But he couldn’t. He gritted his jaw and forced himself to focus, then reeled off a list of things he wanted his assistant to work on.

When he was finished, Laia terminated the call. She made a little whistling sound. ‘What did your last slave die of?’

Dax forced himself not to respond. ‘A lot of people depend on me for their livelihoods.’ He winced inwardly. He sounded like his brother now. Uptight. Ha! Ari would laugh his head off.

Laia looked sheepish as she put the phone in a back pocket. ‘I’m sorry, I know you have responsibilities.’

Dax went still. ‘Not so long ago you were saying the opposite.’

A dark flush came into her cheeks. She looked at his mouth, and then back up. ‘I... That wasn’t fair. Like you said, I don’t know the background.’

She looked at his mouth again. Suddenly all Dax could hear was the rush of blood to his head. He wanted to kiss her again. And this time not stop.

He moved back around the kitchen island. He was determined to pretend it had never happened.

And that’s going really well, mocked a little voice.