Page 56 of Claimed By the Crown Prince
She turned away from the mirror. Slipped her feet into high-heeled sandals. She walked to the door feeling like a foal standing on its legs for the first time.
The dress moved against her body like a silken whisper, heightening her sensitivity. The only underwear she wore was knickers.
She opened her door and nearly fell backwards. Dax was standing in the corridor in a classic black tuxedo. Hair still damp. Jaw clean-shaven. It made him look no less dangerous or decadent.
His gaze moved up and down her body, and when he looked into her eyes she knew she’d never feel more beautiful than she did in this moment. He lookedawed.
‘You are stunning, Laia.’
It was hard to find her voice. ‘Thank you, so are you.’
He dipped his head. ‘Thank you.’ He held out his arm. ‘May I escort you?’
Laia slipped her arm into his, and all that heat and steely strength immediately made her feel protected.
A thought ran through her mind.How was she going to cope without him?She wasn’t his to protect. Life as a queen’s consort? He’d rejected the life of a royal a long time ago. And who could blame him?
Dax led her downstairs, oblivious to her thoughts in turmoil. But when they reached the bottom of the stairs everything in her mind blanked. The villa had surely been dressed by a set decorator?
Candles were alight everywhere. There were vases of flowers. Dax must have gone out in the dusk after the storm and picked them from the rain-laden bushes. The dinner table was on the terrace outside, with a white tablecloth and silver settings, more flowers and crystal glasses. And another candle.
Laia was breathless. She let Dax’s arm go and moved into the kitchen. There was a delicious aroma of cooking...
She wrinkled her nose and looked at Dax in a bid to try and avoid thinking about all the effort he’d gone to. ‘Chicken?’
‘Wait and see.’
He had a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and took it out and opened it, pouring the sparkling effervescent wine into a tall flute, handing it to her before pouring his own.
Laia waited, and when he had his she said, ‘Dax, this all looks...amazing. Thank you.’
He clinked his glass against hers. ‘You haven’t eaten yet...reserve your judgement.’
But she already knew it would be amazing. The best meal of her life.
She took a sip of wine and said, ‘I have to admit something.’
Dax said, ‘Go on.’
‘This is my first date. Like, my firstproperdate.’
A funny expression came over his face, but it was gone before she could decipher it. He put his hand on her waist and tugged her closer. She felt her dress moving over her bare skin.
He slipped his arm around her, his hand touching the bare skin of her back. ‘Well, then,’ he said, ‘I’m honoured to be your first date.’
The moment and the feel of his hand on her back, now making small movements over her skin, made Laia want to melt. But not now.
Later. She pulled back a bit and said, ‘Do you need help with the food?’
Dax took her hand and led her over to the table, pulling out a chair so she could sit down. He said, ‘You are not to lift a finger.’
He went back to the kitchen and Laia put her chin on her hand and just watched him. He put on some music. Soft and jazzy. Perfect. And after a few minutes he brought over the plates.
He put one down in front of Laia and said, ‘Chicken satay in a peanut sauce and some mezze dishes.’
It looked mouthwatering. There was houmous and pitta bread, rice balls infused with herbs, feta cheese and salad... She took a taste of the chicken and it was so tender it melted on her tongue, the peanut sauce giving it a tangy and very Malaysian twist.
They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, and then Dax took a sip of wine and sat back. ‘Tell me something about yourself.’