CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER NINE

AMUSCLEPULSED in Dax’s jaw. He looked at Laia and she nearly gasped out loud. There was so much pain in his eyes. Pain and...guilt.

He said, ‘I did everything I could, but she wouldn’t listen. And she wouldn’t let me drive, even though I knew how. I might not have been legal, but I would have been safer than her. She took a corner too fast and we went straight off the road into a ravine... I had barely a scratch on me. A broken wrist. That was it.’

Laia felt cold. ‘She could have taken you all the way down with her.’

Dax said nothing for a long moment, and then, ‘In a way she did.’

Laia thought of something. ‘The other night you were saying that you didn’t deserve me...or this... You really believe you don’t deserve what...? For someone to want you?’

Dax tensed visibly. ‘Because it’s my fault. I didn’t help her. I watched her self-destruct. I let it happen. And then I turned my back on Santanger and a life of duty. I don’t believe I deserve good things. Just like I don’t deserve to be protected. I won’t have a security team because I won’t let anyone risk their life for me.’

Laia’s heart ached at Dax’s pain and palpable guilt. At the thought that he wouldn’t put anyone at risk because of him.

She said, ‘You know, we have something in common.’

He looked at her. ‘We do?’

She nodded. ‘I blame myself for my mother’s death too. Even though I know it’s not rational. But if I wasn’t here...she would still be alive.’

‘And you wouldn’t be here.’ Dax shook his head, ‘You can’t possibly think like that.’

‘Your guilt and sense of responsibility isn’t rational either.’

‘Isn’t it?’

‘Why did you take the blame for the crash?’

‘Because I wanted to protect her reputation. It was all she had. Her pride. No one outside of the palace knew how bad she was.’

No wonder he’d abdicated so much of his other responsibilities—he’d been crushed under the weight of this one.

‘It wasn’t your responsibility.’

He looked at her. ‘Wasn’t it?’

Laia shook her head. ‘No, it wasn’t. But you did it because you loved her and wanted to protect her.’

And now he didn’t believe in love.

For a moment it was as if the sun had gone behind a cloud, even though there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Dax reached for Laia, putting his hands on her waist and laying down, pulling her over him.

Her salty damp hair fell around them in a tangle. Her skin felt sandblasted. She was pressed against him, every inch. And she suddenly wanted him again with a hunger that rose up like a wildfire.

Her hands were splayed on his chest. Over that tattoo. She covered it with her fingers. She didn’t want to think about that now. He caught her hair and moved it over one shoulder, wound it around his hand, tugging her head down to his.

Something silent moved between them.

Enough talking.

Laia needed no further encouragement to lower her head to Dax’s and cover his mouth with hers. At first she was tentative, shy. Dax was under her, all that power and strength, and she felt self-conscious. Aware that she couldn’t possibly be as alluring as his other lovers.

But then she felt him smile against her mouth, and she put her hands around his face and kissed him with all the pent-up emotion he was causing within her, simultaneously hating him for not just being the Playboy Prince and feeling a multitude of complicated emotions for the man he actually was.

Dax quickly took control, flipping them so that Laia was under him, one of his thighs between hers. His body was stirring against her. She moved against him. He shook his head. She pouted. He laughed.

‘We are not making love here. We have no protection.’

Laia cursed her lack of foresight. Dax stood up and took her hand, pulling her up. They gathered up the picnic detritus and made their way back to the villa.

Dax took the picnic things from Laia and put them down on the kitchen table, then led her up to his suite, where he took her into the bathroom. He turned on the shower, which was open to the elements, and steam drifted upwards and all around them.

He took off Laia’s kaftan again and turned her around, undoing her bikini and peeling it away. He stepped out of his own shorts. Laia marvelled that she didn’t feel more self-conscious—but how could she when he was in front of her, naked?

There was something very elemental about being in this place, surrounded by heat and lush forest. Just them.

Dax stepped under the shower, bringing Laia with him. He washed her hair, working it into a lather and then massaging her skull with strong hands. Laia’s head fell back at the exquisiteness of his touch. Then he rinsed her hair and worked soap into his hands again, to wash her body so thoroughly that she was shaking when his hand slipped between her legs and he found where she was so slick and ready.

It only took the barest of touches for her to come apart against his hand. She would have fallen at his feet if he hadn’t held her up. She couldn’t speak. She could only be manoeuvred as he turned off the shower and dried her hair, wrapped her in a towel.

He knotted a towel around his own waist. Laia looked at him, and this time she took him by the hand and led him into the bedroom. She wanted to worship at this man’s feet.

She undid the towel at his waist she bent down in front of his majestic masculinity.

Roughly, he said, ‘Laia, you don’t have to...’

But Laia ignored him and wrapped her hand around him, in awe at the vulnerability and the strength of him. She felt powerful at Dax’s feet in a way that only he had evoked within her. Powerful in her newfound sensuality and femininity.

She bent forward and experimented, flicking her tongue over the head of his erection. A shudder went through his body and she felt it all the way down to her own core, where she was still slick, aching for more. Her breasts felt tight.

Laia took more of him into her mouth, exploring the thick, hard, shaft of flesh. She heard an indrawn hiss of breath, felt the tension in Dax’s body, and the way his hips started to move.

But then he reached down and pulled her up. His cheeks were slashed with colour, eyes blazing. Hot again. Not cold.

‘I need to be inside you now.’

Laia lay back on the bed and Dax came over her, entering her body in a smooth thrust so deep and all-consuming that she arched against him. But then he cursed and withdrew, and Laia let out a little cry. It had felt so good...skin on skin.

And then she saw him roll protection onto his length. Oh.

Heat suffused her whole body. She hadn’t even thought about protection.

He came back and smoothed a hand up her thigh to her breast. He cupped the flesh and bent his head, surrounding one nipple in hot, wet heat just as he entered her again. Laia threw her head back and gritted her jaw, as if that might help contain the building tension coiling deep inside her, stoked by Dax’s body moving in and out in a rhythm that made her feverish for release.

But he kept her on the brink...a form of delicious torture...until Laia could stand it no more and cried out, begging, pleading for him to let her go.

And finally, having mercy, he did. He thrust so deep and hard that he stole every coherent thought in Laia’s head. She was no longer human. She was energy and light and an immense pleasure that gripped Dax tight, deep within her body, as he found his own release and shouted out. And then they both tumbled and fell back to earth.

Dax stood on the deck outside the bedroom. It was dusk, but the sky wasn’t lavender—it was grey and threatening. The air felt heavy and full of pent-up electricity. A storm was coming. He could see the fishing boats heading back for the bigger island. He noticed that even the security team’s boat had moved, presumably to a more sheltered area.

But even though the atmosphere was heavy, for the first time in a long time Dax felt light. Lighter. As if a burden had been lifted.

Talking to Laia...telling her about his mother...the crash...had been cathartic. Laia’s calm and compassionate acceptance of what he’d said—the ugliness he’d held inside him for so long—had been like a balm.

Maybe he was finally letting go of the crushing guilt that should never have been his to bear. Maybe he’d finally feel worthy.

Dax turned around. The net was around the bed, so he couldn’t see Laia, but he could imagine her. Naked. Limbs sprawled in glorious abandon. The dips and hollows, the firm swells of her buttocks and breasts. Those eyes that opened wide when he joined their bodies and the way she had knelt at his feet like the most decadent supplicant. She’d tortured him a little. She was learning fast.

And soon she won’t be yours any more. You’ve initiated her for someone else. Someone she can love and respect.

The thought of Laia moving on and finding this man who would be worthy of her love and respect was enough to make bile form in Dax’s belly. He cursed himself and turned around again, putting his hands on the railing.

What the hell did he want? To keep seeing Laia beyond this point?

Yes.The answer was emphatic.

But it was impossible. She would be crowned Queen within days and her life would not be her own. She would be watched and commented on. If Dax went near her it would cause a sensation and a ream of headlines about his suitability.

He was not her destiny. She was not his. He had lived a life that put him firmly in the very unsuitable bracket for a queen. He could never be a king. He’d learnt that a long time ago.

He heard a squeal from behind him and turned around to see Laia in a robe, belting it at her waist. She looked so beautiful it hurt. She was grinning.

‘A storm! We have to close all the doors and shutters downstairs!’

Dax welcomed the distraction, he hadn’t even noticed that it had started to rain. He told himself he must be losing it. This tropical island paradise and the best sex he’d ever had were a potent combination for inducing crazy thoughts. Not real. Crazy.

Dax followed as Laia ran downstairs and started to pull the shutters and heavy blinds closed against the rain that was quickly turning torrential. He did the same on the other side of the room.

They met in the middle, and as soon as the room was protected against the rain he took her lapels in his hands and pulled her towards him. She went willingly, cleaving against him in a way that made his blood hum.

He smiled. ‘You like storms?’

‘I love them. They’re so...awe-inspiring. Especially here. It feels like the world is ending, but it’ll blow over in a few hours.’

It was almost as dark as night now. The storm was creating an otherworldly atmosphere. Dax had never particularly liked storms—too reminiscent of the emotional storms of his childhood. But this one was okay.

Because of Laia.

Impulsively he said, ‘I’d like to take you out to dinner.’

Laia went very still. Did he actually mean take her out for dinner? In the real world? Where there were other people and regular restaurants and...?

It couldn’t happen.

Laia imagined a scenario where she was out with Dax and the immediate frenzy of press attention.

‘Dax... I don’t know if that’s—’

‘I don’t mean out there.’ He jerked his head sideways to indicate beyond the villa. This island. This bubble. ‘I meant here. Now. I hear there’s a fabulous restaurant called La Permata? Maybe you’ve heard of it?’

Laia was surprised by the strength of the disappointment she felt. But she forced a smile. This could not extend beyond the island. They both knew that. Time was slipping away from them like sand in a glass. This time tomorrow they wouldn’t even—

She shut that line of thought down and put her head on one side and pretended to consider. ‘I think I’ve heard of it... It’s renowned for its eclectic menu and the novelty factor of using amateur chefs.’

‘The very one. So, will you? Come to dinner with me?’

Laia’s heart beat fast. ‘What’s the dress code?’

Dax looked affronted. ‘Why, black tie, of course.’

Laia’s heart thumped even faster at this side of Dax. Romantic.

She said, ‘Then, yes, I would love to accept your invitation.’

Later that evening the storm had passed, as Laia had predicted. The sky was clear again, stars twinkling. There was a delicious feeling of freshness in the air and the earth smelled damp and rich from the rain. The heat wasn’t as oppressive.

Laia was in her own bedroom. She’d showered and was in a robe looking for a dress. Black tie. It was ridiculous, really. But all Laia could think about right now was that memory of meeting Dax for the first time. When she’d been sixteen and had felt so gauche and fussy.

She realised she was living out the fantasy she’d harboured since that day. Since she’d looked at all those pictures of him with beautiful woman after beautiful woman.

She went into the dressing room and almost immediately a shimmering blue-green material caught her eye. She pulled it out. It was a maxi-dress. The simplicity of it appealed to her. It was backless. There was a silken ribbon that tied around her neck, holding the dress up, the ends trailing down her bare back. It fell in a swathe of greens and blues and teal colours down to her feet and it shimmered when she moved.

She hadn’t worn jewellery since being on the island, but now she picked out some gold hoops for her ears and a gold bangle that sat on her upper arm. A gold signet ring for her little finger.

She pulled her hair back and up into a messy bun, leaving tendrils down around her face. She put on some make-up—only enough to take away the naked look. A dusting of green and gold eyeshadow. She didn’t need blusher. Just thinking about the last few hours spent in bed made her blush. Some powder. A slick of flesh-coloured lipstick. Eyeliner and mascara.

She looked at herself in the mirror. After not wearing make-up for days, she felt like a clown. Did she measure up to the other women that Dax had been with? She hated this insecure, needy side of herself. But maybe this was what a passionate relationship did to you?

There was a knock on the door. ‘Ready when you are.’

Laia called out, ‘Okay...’ but it sounded husky.

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 looked awed.

‘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 first proper date.’

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.’

‘Like what?’ Laia felt deliciously sated. From the wine...the food...the sex. This place. The calls of the night insects. The soft breeze bringing tropical scents.

Dax shrugged. ‘I don’t know... Anything. A secret. Something other people don’t know.’

Laia thought for a second and then said, a little sheepishly, ‘I’m terrified of dogs.’

Dax looked at her. ‘Dogs?’

Laia nodded. ‘But the embarrassing thing is that it’s not really my fear.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘My father was attacked as a child by a stray dog. He never got over the fear and passed it down to me. But I hate my fear. I’d like to have a dog. A puppy. But I can’t do it. I always loved the idea of a family dog. A big shaggy thing that’s goofy and silly. But if I even saw such a dog in the street I’d be rigid with fear.’

‘You’re brave, Laia. You’ll get over that fear.’

‘You think I’m brave?’ Laia’s insides fizzed a little.

‘You stood your ground against an archaic agreement made by men and went your own way.’

‘I don’t know...it doesn’t feel very brave to have been avoiding King Aristedes like this.’

‘You’re right, though, he wouldn’t have listened. He would have done all he could to persuade you that you had to do the right thing. Because it would have suited him. We come from the same place. After what we saw, we’re programmed to steer clear of emotional entanglement and drama. But, he would have been a kind and respectful husband.’

Steer clear of emotional entanglement.

That summed up Dax’s attitude to relationships. She wondered if this counted as an emotional entanglement and then chastised herself. This was just sex. For him. For her...? She feared she was already way out of her depth.

But while they were here she could pretend that she wouldn’t have to face the consequences of her actions.

She said softly, ‘Do we have to leave here? Couldn’t we just stay and pretend that the real world isn’t out there, waiting?’

‘We could...if you didn’t have to be crowned Queen of Isla’Rosa and if I didn’t have a business to run.’

Dax’s easy acknowledgement that they would be leaving told her in no uncertain terms that he was already moving on.

Laia thought of all that awaited her once she left this place. She realised she didn’t want to do it on her own.

She wanted Dax by her side.

That realisation lodged in her gut and in her heart like a stone.

No. She told herself. It was just sex. Messing with her head. She wasn’t experienced. She was adding emotion to sex and coming up with the wrong number.

To prove to herself that it was just sex, Laia got up and held out a hand to Dax. He looked at her with those bright blue eyes. Bright enough to sear her alive.

He arched a brow. ‘No dessert?’

‘I’m dessert.’ She smiled, but it felt hollow.

He took her hand and stood up, and Laia led him from the beautifully decorated room up the stairs to the bedroom. In the soft golden light he took off his clothes, and Laia took off all her jewellery and laid it down. She undid the ribbon at the back of her neck that held the dress up. Took off her underwear.

They were both naked.

Dax let her hair down. And then he led her to the bed. He lay down, urging her to sit astride him. Laia spread her legs either side of his hips and came down over his chest, her breasts crushed against him. He lay under her, looking stubbled and dark and thoroughly decadent.

For now, for this short time, he was hers. And she would store away these moments deep down and carry them with her through the next weeks, months and years, while she lived her life of duty with someone by her side who would love her and respect her and cherish her.

But she already knew, fatally, that they would never make her want like this again.

As if reading her thoughts, Dax put his hands on her waist and shifted her slightly. ‘Sit up...put your hands on my chest.’

She did. Dax looked at her with such heat and desire in his eyes and his expression that Laia wanted to take a mental screenshot. He cupped her breasts, rubbing his thumbs back and forth over her nipples, making her shiver. Her hips felt restless. She wanted him. Deep inside. He put his hands back on her waist again and encouraged her to come up, before bringing her back down onto his hard body.

Laia’s head fell back at the sensation. She sat for a long moment, savouring the feeling of his body in hers. And then she started to move in an instinctive dance, watching as his control started to fray and come apart at the seams. He was holding her, sweat on his brow, begging her to let him move under her, but she didn’t allow it. She felt merciless as she punished him for ruining her for all other men, and it was only when he lost it under her that she allowed herself to fall behind him, collapsing onto his chest.

It might be a victory, but it felt hollow.

‘Dax, wake up...’

Dax cracked open an eye. Laia was hovering over him in a robe. Hair loose. It was still dark outside. His body felt heavy.

He lifted his head. ‘Is something wrong?’

She shook her head and pulled back the cover. ‘No, everything is fine. I just want to show you something. Put on a robe and a pair of shoes.’

Dax got up, wondering if he was still sleeping. He pulled on the robe that Laia held out and put on some sneakers. She took his hand and led him downstairs and out of the villa, switching on a powerful torch.

They were walking down the path that led to the beach when he stopped in his tracks. This wasn’t a dream. The air was warm and very still around them.

‘Laia...where are we going?’

She shone the torch in his face, momentarily blinding him. ‘Just follow me and wait and see.’

He did as he was told, letting her lead him all the way down to the beach. It was a clear night, with the moon sending out a milky glow. They walked down close to the shore.

At first Dax saw nothing—then he did. A bluish light coming from the waves as they crashed to shore.

Laia, beside him, said, ‘It’s phosphorescence...a natural phenomenon.’

It was beautiful. ‘I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never seen it.’

Laia put the torch down and started taking off her robe.

‘What are you doing?’

She backed away towards the water. Naked. Gorgeous. ‘Skinny-dipping. Come on!’

Dax didn’t need any encouragement. He threw off the robe and followed Laia into the glowing water. A blissful contrast to the humid night. The water shimmered and glowed around them as they moved. It was magical.

They didn’t go far from shore, just deep enough to go under water. Dax caught Laia by the legs and she came up spluttering and laughing. He felt an acute pain near his heart, knowing he’d never experience this again with her. But she might with someone else. With her children. He imagined bringing children to see this amazing spectacle. The excited squeals. Dark heads. A girl and a boy.

To drown out the pictures, he caught Laia to him. ‘Wrap your legs around my waist.’

She did. And they were joined flesh to flesh. Breasts to chest. He kissed her there in the sea, under the moonlight in the glowing water, and for the first time in his life he found himself yearning for something he couldn’t even name—because he’d never allowed himself to believe it could be possible.

Laia lay awake after they’d returned from the sea and made love. Again. There was a sick sense of dread pooling in her belly. The first fingers of dawn were evident in the sky outside.

It was time.

She could drag it out for another few hours. They could have breakfast together. Maybe even make love again. But it would be the desperate actions of a desperate woman.

A few hours ago in the water...the magical glowing water... Laia had known she was in love with Dax. A man who had told her in no uncertain terms that he had no interest in settling down. Having a family. And, after what he’d been through, she could understand it.

Dax could never be hers. All she could take would be this experience. This knowledge he’d given her of herself as a sensual, desirable woman.

No man would ever make her feel the same. He’d ruined her years ago and he’d ruined her again. But this time fatally. Emotionally. And she’d let it happen. Invited it. Asked for it. Begged.

He moved minutely in the bed and Laia held her breath. When he didn’t wake she let her eyes rove over his naked body. She’d known what it was like to lie with this man and have the freedom to touch him, to know he was hers. However briefly. But that was over now. She could never touch him again.

A sound of distress almost came out of her mouth. She had to put her hand up.

Before she could give in to the almost overwhelming temptation to touch him one last time, wake him with her body, Laia stole from the bed and went back to her own room.

She didn’t look back. She couldn’t. Because she knew that if she did she’d imprison them both here for ever, and that was a fantasy that could never come true.