CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER SEVEN

LAIA’SHEARTWAS thumping so hard she felt light-headed. Dax had gone very still. Slowly, he turned around. His expression was suspiciously blank.

He came back towards her. He stopped a couple of feet away. Laia could feel the tension like electricity crackling between them.

He gritted out one word. ‘Explain.’

Laia swallowed. Dax suddenly seemed a foot taller. Broader. Darker. She hadn’t fully thought through what his reaction might be. Explosive, she was guessing.

‘Laia?’

How did she even articulate this? It suddenly seemed ridiculous that he could have had such a huge impact on her since—

‘You do not get to make a claim like that and then say nothing.’

Dax had folded his arms, which only drew attention to his muscles, pushing against the thin material of his shirt.

‘How is it my fault, exactly? And why am I the only one still talking?’

She spoke. ‘The first time we met...in Paris... You...affected me. I fancied you. I developed a crush on you. A big one. You were the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. And then you told me you were going to be my brother-in-law one day and I felt sick at the thought—because how could I feel such illicit things for my brother?’

Dax’s face lost some of its ferocity. ‘You were only sixteen.’

Laia shrugged. ‘Old enough to form a crush. And then when I saw what you were doing...how you were living your life...all the women... I think I was jealous. But I told myself you disgusted me, because you were so flagrantly disregarding the fact that you were a crown prince and had responsibilities to your King and your people. I felt ashamed that you were attractive to me when I was trying my best to prove to everyone that I could be Queen some day. But that night in Monte Carlo... I couldn’t hide my immediate response to you. I envied your freedom. And then I was angry because I was weak enough to be jealous... The truth is that I convinced myself I disapproved of you to deny admitting how much you affected me. On some very deep fundamental level I knew I couldn’t marry King Aristedes because I wanted you. Not him.’

Dax’s voice was a little hoarse. ‘You haven’t even given him a chance...’

Laia shook her head. ‘I saw him after my father’s funeral. I felt nothing for him. Nothing. And he dismissed me. He’s not interested in me at all. On any level. And that’s not good enough. I’ve measured every man I’ve met against you, without even realising what I was doing. That’s why...it’s your fault.’

Dax took a step closer. His eyes were piercing her all the way down to where Laia had nothing left to hide. She’d exposed herself spectacularly. There was no going back.

Dax said, ‘Ari is a good man. He would respect you and treat you well. You would want for nothing.’

‘Except passion.’

Now Dax’s cheeks flushed. ‘You want a lot from your marriage. Passion and love?’

Laia felt defensive. ‘I don’t think that’s too much to ask. After I leave here, my life will not be my own ever again. Not really. Is it so selfish to want something for myself while I can still have it? When I’m hidden from the world and no one will ever be any the wiser?’

Dax’s jaw clenched. ‘And then you can get on with your life and find this true love? This paragon of a mate who will fulfil all your needs? Why don’t you just wait for him?’

‘Because I don’t think I’ll be able to move on until—’ She stopped.

‘Until?’ Dax prompted.

‘Until I’ve known you.’

‘You mean until we’ve had sex?’ Dax said crudely.

Laia winced. ‘Not like that.’

Except it was exactly like that.

For the first time Laia felt vulnerable. She doubted herself. Maybe she wasn’t a match for Dax’s control after all.

‘I truly didn’t know this would happen. That you would be here like this. But now the thought of meeting you at some future event or place and realising how much I want you, not having known you, it terrifies me...’

‘Laia, Ari is—’

She cut him off. ‘Not the man I want. Ever. I will never be with him. That’s what I realised on a very deep level all those years ago. I can’t be with him when I want you.’

Dax seemed to struggle with something for a long second, and then he said, with almost palpable reluctance, ‘The truth is that you’ve haunted me since I saw you in Monaco. And until I saw you again I’ve had no interest in much at all.’

Laia had to lock her knees to stay standing. Her legs were turning to jelly. Was she part of the reason he’d disappeared from the scene?

Feeling emboldened, she took a step closer to Dax. She could feel his heat. And his scent, a potent mix of wood and musk and something uniquely him, tickled her nostrils.

She said, ‘Let me put it this way. If I told you to send me to your brother right now, to become his Queen, would you be happy to let me go to him?’

Laia took a deep breath and made the biggest gamble of her life.

‘Because if you say yes, then I’ll go. Leave now. Not to go to him, but I’ll go home and let the chips fall where they may. I’ll never see you again.’ She lifted her chin. ‘I have some pride, Dax. I won’t beg.’

Dax closed the distance between them. There was barely an inch now. He was all she could see.

Laia bit her lip. If he said Yes, go now she might very well die a little inside.

But he didn’t say anything for a long moment, and then he lifted his hand and tugged her lower lip free from her teeth. Laia held her breath. Dax’s gaze was on her mouth.

He said, almost to himself, ‘Would I be happy to let you go to him...?’

He shook his head, and then he looked at her and she could see fires blazing in his eyes. A slow surge of euphoria made its way into her blood.

‘No, Laia, I wouldn’t be happy to let you go to him, or to anyone else. Because I want you and I’m done fighting it. You’re mine.’

Laia trembled. She’d campaigned for this—she’d asked for it...all but begged for it. But was she really ready for it?

A kaleidoscope of pictures flashed through her head: seeing him that first time in Paris, all the tabloid images she’d pored over for years, Monte Carlo and now here. This moment. This man.

Yes.

She put her hand on his chest, over his heart, and said, ‘Then make me yours, Dax.’

Dax had tipped over the edge of any control he possessed and was walking through fire. Let this woman go? Walk away? Without tasting her?

The thought made him feral.

He finally understood that Laia absolutely meant what she said. She had no intention of ever marrying his brother. In truth, he’d understood it for a while, but he’d been fighting his own desire because he’d never, ever gone against Ari in his life.

But something Laia had said had resonated with him. She selfishly wanted to take something for herself. While the eyes of the world were turned away.

In doing this, Dax would be embarking on the most selfish thing he’d ever done. And in many ways the worst thing he’d ever done. Taking his brother’s promised bride.

If he’d felt tainted and damned by the past before, now he would be tainted and damned in the present. But there was no turning back. He knew Ari had no real appreciation for this woman. He’d always known it. Laia was right—Ari just saw her as the next step.

Even so, Dax knew he was crossing a line and he would never forgive himself. He would have to add this to the line he’d crossed that day of the car crash. He was good at crossing lines and accepting guilt. He’d accepted that a long time ago.

And there was no way he could hold back from what this woman was offering. She was sweet and pure and light—and, fatally, he was drawn to her as if she could offer him some kind of absolution. He did not deserve this. But he was taking it.

There was no other choice—there never had been. He could see that now—he was filled with a primal need to possess that he’d never experienced before.

He put his hand over Laia’s on his chest. The way she did that...it pierced something inside him, some of the darkness. He threaded his fingers through hers and then, taking her hand, he led her through the villa and up the stairs.

The night was warm and soft around them. Only the night chorus of insects and small animals broke the peace.

But Dax couldn’t even hear that. All he could hear was the pounding of his blood. And his heart.

Laia felt as if she was in some kind of dreamlike state as she followed Dax up the stairs, her hand in his, fingers entwined, as if they’d been lovers for years.

There was no hesitation.

The lights were low, infusing everything with a low golden glow, and Dax led her into his bedroom and closed the door. He let her hand go and went over to the shutters, pulling them closed. Then he dropped the net around the bed.

Laia watched him. He turned around and came towards her. He stopped in front of her.

‘Turn around.’

Laia did as he said. He pulled her hair free, so that it fell down her back. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her again to face him. Her skin felt so sensitive.

But he didn’t touch her straight away. He said, ‘I’ve suspected something, but I need to know...’

Laia knew what he was going to say, and she knew it would be futile to pretend otherwise. So she swallowed her self-consciousness and said, ‘I’m not experienced. At all.’

A muscle pulsed in Dax’s jaw. ‘No lovers?’

She shook her head.

‘Laia...are you sure you don’t want to do this with the man who will be your husband?’

She shook her head.

‘I’m not naive enough to confuse sex with love.’ She made a face. ‘If my father’s affair has taught me anything it’s that. This...this thing that’s between us. You said it’s rare. I might never feel this again, even with the man I choose to marry. I know that.’ Just so he was in no doubt, she said, ‘I choose you to be my first lover, Dax. But don’t worry, I won’t fall in love with you.’

His mouth twisted. ‘No. Because I’m not really a suitable consort for a queen, am I?’

His words sank in and suddenly it felt as if the earth was tilting sideways. She put out her hands to find balance, but Dax was already holding her steady, his hands on her arms.

He was frowning. ‘Okay?’

Laia nodded. ‘Just a little rush of blood...’

But she knew something had just happened. Something profound that she couldn’t—or didn’t want to—analyse just yet. A desire for him to be hers in spite of all the reasons why he couldn’t—because he had no intention of settling down.

Desperate to avoid thinking about that, Laia said, ‘Kiss me, Dax.’

He brought one hand up, over her arm and shoulder, under her hair, and cupped her neck, tugging her closer. ‘Now, that I can do.’

He seemed to take for ever to touch his mouth to hers. Laia had the slightest glimpse of his wicked smile and she was about to scowl or beg. But then everything was forgiven, because his mouth was on hers and Laia’s entire body was suffused with heat and electric excitement.

She’d thought she’d made too much of their kiss earlier...that it couldn’t possibly have been that transformative...but it was happening again. And it was even more profound, because now she was even hungrier for it. Desperate.

She hadn’t even realised she’d twined her arms around Dax’s neck, arching her body against his, wanting to feel that whipcord strength against her body, hard against soft.

She’d never considered herself a very girly girl, but she’d never felt more feminine than she did in this moment. Never been so aware of the differences between a man and a woman.

Dax’s other hand was splayed across her back, and she could feel him moving it up now, over her bare skin, finding one of the straps of her dress and slipping his fingers underneath to dislodge it.

But then he tensed and stopped. Pulled back.

Laia opened her eyes. Her mouth already felt swollen. Breath fast and choppy. ‘What is it?’

Dax’s face was flushed, eyes glittering. ‘I don’t have anything with me...’ He cursed softly and let her go.

Laia struggled to make her sluggish brain work. ‘You don’t have what with you?’

He put his hands on his hips. ‘Protection. I don’t have protection. We can’t do this. I’m not risking getting you pregnant. That’s a scandal too far even for me.’

Finally what he’d said sank in, and with it came a wave of relief.

She said, ‘Wait there.’ And fled back across the hall to her room, fingers clumsy with the key to the door. Eventually it opened and she almost fell inside. She went straight to where she’d stashed the box of condoms and picked it up.

She brought it back to Dax and handed it to him.

He took it and looked at it. And then her. He said, ‘The delivery earlier today?’

Laia nodded, feeling self-conscious. ‘I only thought of it when...after the kiss... Obviously I can’t risk getting pregnant...’

Dax shook his head faintly. ‘Not many women have ever surprised me... No, scratch that—actually no woman has ever surprised me as much as you have.’

Laia said, ‘Is it...are there enough?’

Dax looked at the box and huffed out a laugh. He opened it and took out one foil-wrapped sheath.

‘Let’s start with one and see how we go, okay?’

Laia had never felt so gauche or out of her depth.

Dax seemed to take pity on her. He put down the protection and led her over to the bed.

He stood in front of her. ‘Laia, I don’t want you to regret this. You’re about to become Queen. Life for you and my brother is different. When you meet the man you’ll marry he’ll probably expect you to be—’

‘Pure?’ Laia cut Dax off. ‘I’ve done my best to get out of one medieval marriage arrangement. I’m not going to keep myself pure, like some sort of sacrificial offering for my husband. I’m a modern woman, Dax, and the only reason I’m still a virgin is because I’ve never had the opportunity to lose my virginity. Most men are too scared to come near me—they’re put off by the fact that I’m promised already—and if it isn’t that they’re just intimidated by my status. Apart from all that, I have practically no privacy. I’m watched over day and night. Here...with you... This is the first time in a long time that I’ve been truly on my own. And it’s not just that you happen to be here and it’s an opportunity. You’re the man I want. The man I’ve wanted for so long. The fact that you’re here is...serendipitous. It’s like a gift...you’re a gift.’

Everything in Dax rejected her assertion that he was a gift, while at the same he was inordinately moved by her words.

Dax wasn’t anyone’s gift. He brought with him a legacy of guilt and tragedy. A debauched reputation. And yet here, now, in front of Laia, who was looking at him with such pure desire, he felt ridiculously that he was being reborn on some level.

He reached out and touched her jaw. So delicate, yet strong. Like her. He felt humble all of a sudden. This woman was a queen—maybe not quite yet, but she would be, very soon. And he could imagine her being a great queen. Strong and proud, but also soft and compassionate.

Ari had been a fool not to take more care to make her feel wanted. She would have been a great Queen of Santanger. But she wasn’t Ari’s, and in that moment Dax felt a surge of emotion as he fully acknowledged that she wanted him.

‘I don’t deserve you...this.’

Laia shook her head. ‘Why would you say such a thing? Of course you deserve me. I’m really not that—’

Dax put his finger on her mouth, stopping her words. ‘Don’t you dare say it. You are a woman descended from great women, who have endured all manner of things to be Queen of their land. And you are about to become Queen. You’re already a queen.’

He saw Laia’s throat work as she swallowed. And then she took a step closer to him and put her hand on his wrist, pulling his hand away from her mouth.

‘Can we just...stop talking? And make love?’

Dax couldn’t help huffing out a laugh. No woman had ever accused him of talking too much. But of course with this woman everything was reversed and upside down.

‘Yes, we can.’

He took a step back. He wanted nothing more than to rip that excuse of a dress from her body and sink so deep inside her that all the things she made him feel and all the contradictions would be eclipsed.

But now was not the time. He would have to go slowly, even if it killed him.

‘Undress me, Laia.’

She looked up at him, her lip caught between her teeth. Dax curled his hands into fists to stop himself from touching her. She brought her hands to his shirt and started to undo his buttons. He saw how she concentrated. He also saw the almost discernible tremor in her hands. She was nervous. He’d never had to worry about that before, because his lovers had always been experienced.

He let her undo all the buttons on his shirt. She pulled it out of his trousers. Then her hands went to his belt buckle and his every nerve-ending was tingling. She opened the belt. Then the top button of his trousers. The zip.

Dax held his breath. He could hear Laia’s breath coming faster. The dress dipped down between her breasts and he caught tantalising glimpses of soft, plump swells. Her nipples were hard. He imagined the silk material of the dress brushing against them. Sensitising them even more.

Unable to hold back, Dax reached out and cupped Laia’s breast through her dress. She sucked in a breath and looked up. He kept his eyes on her and took his hand from her breast to pull down the other strap of her dress. She lifted her arms free. The dress gaped and Dax tugged it ever so slightly, until it dropped all the way down, exposing one breast.

‘You are...beautiful,’ he breathed in awe.

Her skin was luminous, dark golden. Her breast was perfectly shaped. Pert and plump. Succulent. The nipple was hard, pouting forward from the areola. Dax cupped her flesh and rubbed his thumb back and forth over the hard, straining nipple.

Laia was very still. Hardly breathing now. He looked up. Her eyes were unfocused.

He reached for the other strap and pulled it down, exposing her other breast. The dress clung to her hips.

Dax finished taking off his clothes until he was naked before her. He felt something reverent move through him, as if he was offering himself to her for her delectation.

Her eyes moved over him, shy at first, and then avid. Over his chest and waist and then down. Colour suffused her cheeks as she took him in. Took in how much he wanted her. How hard he was for her.

He ached.

Her eyes were wide. He could see in them something that looked like trepidation. He took her hand and put it on his chest, over his heart. She looked up.

‘Don’t think about it. Just let it...happen.’

He led her over to the bed, pulling back the net curtain. She climbed onto the bed.

‘Lie back,’ Dax instructed.’

She did. Her hair swung around her head in a dark silken tangle. Dax reached forward and tugged the dress down over her hips and off. Now she just wore her underwear. Lacy and flesh-coloured. Provocative. For a moment he almost imagined she was actually experienced, silently laughing at him taking so much care of her.

When had he become so infected by cynicism?

He came down alongside her and spread his hand on her belly. He felt her muscles contracting.

She put her hand on his. ‘Dax, you don’t have to treat me like spun glass. I won’t break.’

If she had any sense of how much he wanted her and how much it was costing him to contain it she might not be so eager. But Dax let his hand drift up to cover her breast, cupping its weight, teasing first one and then the other, before bringing his mouth to one pebbled nipple and pulling it into his mouth.

He almost lost his life there and then, at the first taste of her flesh. The first feel of that hard nub in his mouth.

Her hands were in his hair and he could feel her moving her hips impatiently. He kept his mouth on her breasts, one and then the other, teasing and tasting mercilessly, as he brought his hand back down over her belly to the top of her underwear.

Sliding his fingers under the front, he felt springy curls. She opened her legs and Dax lifted his head. He looked at her face as his hand delved deeper, between her legs, his fingers finding the hot, wet centre of her body.

His erection twitched in reaction as his brain registered how she felt. She was biting her lip again, eyes huge. On him. He explored her body, moving his fingers in and out, the slickness of her body sending Dax perilously close to spilling without even entering her.

He covered her mouth with his as his movements became faster, harder, mimicking what would come when she was ready. When he had prepared her.

She was making little moaning sounds. Her back started arching off the bed. Dax urged her on, breathing into her mouth, ‘It’s okay...let it go, Laia...let it out.’

She did. With a big, keening cry as her body convulsed around his fingers and the waves of her pleasure spread outwards.

Dax had to tense every muscle in his body not to come right then. He let Laia absorb what had happened. And after a minute she opened her eyes again. She was perspiring slightly, and it made her glow. The scent of her arousal was in the air and Dax had never smelled anything sexier or more potent. If he didn’t sink inside this woman soon, he might just die.

‘Okay?’

She looked at him. Dazed. She nodded. And then she looked embarrassed. ‘I’ve... You know... Before...myself...’

Dax nearly groaned out loud at the thought of her exploring herself. Making herself come.

She continued, her voice slightly hoarse, ‘But it never felt like that.’

Dax kissed her slowly, thoroughly. Tongues tangling. He put one of his thighs between her legs and moved his hands over her, exploring every dip and swell and inch of her silken body. She was lithe and firm and soft all at once. He felt as if he’d never really touched a woman before.

When Laia was breathless again, Dax couldn’t wait any more.

He pulled back. ‘Are you ready?’

Laia nodded. But he could see her trepidation. He said, ‘It might sting...hurt a bit at first...but it’ll pass, I promise.’

‘I trust you.’

For a second Dax couldn’t breathe. And then he pushed the emotion out. No room for emotion here.

He encouraged her to lift up, so that he could pull off her underwear. And then he put himself between Laia’s legs. Smoothed a hand up one thigh.

He wanted to taste her. Wanted to taste where she’d fallen apart in his hands. But he was too desperate.

He reached for the protection, sending up silent thanks that she’d had the sense to think of it. She was royalty. Soon to be a Queen. The stakes were too high for her to be careless. If she got pregnant by the wrong person—

Dax shut his mind down, because that thought precipitated others, of Laia getting pregnant with the right person. And that was not what he wanted to think about right now, when she was spread on the bed for him like his most wicked fantasy...

Dax rolled the protection onto his erection and winced at how sensitive he was. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt such anticipation to join with a woman.

Laia’s breasts were rising and falling rapidly. He could sense her nervousness. He came down and put an arm under her, covered her mouth with his in a deep, drugging kiss. At the same moment he guided himself into the centre of her body—and died a little death at the sensation.

Laia gasped into his mouth as he entered her.

He pulled back. He could feel the sweat on his brow. ‘Okay?’

He watched her taking in the sensation. He moved and she winced minutely. Dax immediately wanted to pull out, and started to, but she put a hand on his buttock.

‘No, keep going,’ she said. ‘I’m okay.’

He could see she wasn’t, but he did what she asked and thrust deeper. He let her body adjust to his. Tense muscles softening. Accepting his invasion.

Gradually her face lost its slightly pinched look. A kind of curiosity seemed to take her over and she said, a little breathlessly, ‘It’s okay...really.’

Dax started to move in and out slowly, with excruciating care. His passage became easier, and he could see when discomfort turned to pleasure. A look of wonder came over Laia’s face. Wonder and excitement.

She moved under him experimentally, and Dax had to call on every atom of control not to lose it there and then.

She said, ‘Dax...you feel...amazing.’

Knowing that she was not in pain gave Dax permission to go a little harder, deeper. He saw the way Laia’s eyes were glued to him, as if she was trying to communicate something she didn’t understand, and he could feel it in her body as she put her legs around his hips, instinctively chasing the same pinnacle of pleasure that he was hurtling towards.

Silently asking for forgiveness, because he was using his experience and knowledge to send her over the edge before him, Dax reached between them and touched her where their bodies joined. Laia’s body tensed around his for an infinitesimal moment before the onslaught of her powerful orgasm finally sent him into oblivion and a pleasure so profound that he just knew it was wrong.

Because he didn’t deserve anything this pure or pleasurable. Not in a million years.