Princess in the Iron Mask

by Victoria Parker

  Vision blurring, she squeezed her eyes shut. ‘How far?’

  ‘Ten minutes,’ he said, in a growl she’d come to recognise as Lucas being unhappy with her. ‘Nine.’

  He was on a countdown. Nine minutes? Heavens above, she’d be a puddle in the footwell by then. She rubbed her brow, felt the moisture coat her fingertips and tore at the high neck of her tunic.

  Lucas reached for the control panel between them and lowered the temperature in the car by four degrees. He might as well have hiked it up, because the sight of his long thick fingers stroking the controls detonated the nuclear bomb in the pit of her stomach and she began to literally quake.

  ‘Are you car-sick?’ he asked.

  Sick? She was sick in the head. This had to stop! Frantic, she dug deep to unearth hate and came up blank. When had that happened? Yesterday, when he’d swept her away from the palace? Or when he’d slanted that hot hard mouth over hers? Or had it been when he’d been so damn wonderful with Bailey?

  ‘Claudia, did you hear me?’

  ‘Sick. Yes. Terribly.’

  Okay no hate. What else did she have? Well, for starters, he didn’t want her. Wasn’t it mortifying enough that one kiss had put him off? And she didn’t even know him! While he was stripping her bare—somehow with all her clothes still intact—she still had no idea who he was.

  Lucas lowered the privacy glass to speak to Armande. ‘I will tell him to pull over.’

  Claudia gripped his arm, tugged. ‘No. Not that kind of sick. Just...’ She flicked her shoulder, scrambling for a word. Any word. ‘Nervous. Just nervous. Carry on. Honest.’ The more time they spent in this car, the more chance she had of making a fool of herself.

  Up went the glass partition, yet his searching eyes never left her face. Since she’d moved to grab him they were too close, but she couldn’t seem to let go—just luxuriated in the touch of fine wool and hot steel beneath. Colour scored his cheeks and she watched, mesmerised, as his throat convulsed, a muscle ticked his jaw.

  ‘Dios, I cannot continue travelling in these confined spaces with you. It is agony.’

  There it was. It shouldn’t hurt. But it really, really did.

  She snatched her hand away. ‘Agony. Right.’ While she was burning up, ready to spontaneously combust, he abhorred their close proximity.

  Slamming the table upright with one hand, he shoved the papers in his briefcase with the other. Breath short, his chest began to heave, and his amazing blue eyes speared an arrow of heat straight to her core. ‘Dios, your brain is addled. And I am running out of ideas on how to convince you.’

  ‘Convince me of what?’

  ‘That you were not born to hide!’

  ‘Hide? You’re not making sense.’ And why was he always so angry with her?

  ‘Tell me, what do you feel like right now? In here?’ he said, punching his own rock-hard stomach. ‘Truthfully, Claudia,’ he growled in warning.

  On fire. A tight fusion of energy cells clustered into a fiery ball—sparking, fighting to explode. As if she had the worst stomach ache on earth. Or was it the best stomach ache on earth? Regardless, if she moved one muscle and rubbed down there, where her knickers were so wet, she’d seriously...

  ‘Agony,’ she said, the word slipping out before she had a chance to stop it.

  ‘Sí. Agony. As do I.’

  Her eyes slid to where the expensive weave of his suit pulled tight around his thick thighs and groin. He couldn’t possibly...

  ‘Oh,’ she said a little shakily as her insides grew heavier still.

  Tucking one of his fingers under her chin, he raised her head until their eyes met. ‘You are clueless, Claudia. You think I could devour you like that and feel nothing?’

  ‘I just thought...maybe you kiss everyone like that.’

  His chin dipped as his eyebrows shot skyward. ‘I appreciate your confidence in my abilities.’

  ‘And you pulled away. In fact you pushed me away!’

  ‘Sí,’ he said, ripping his finger from her chin so quickly her head bobbed. ‘For my own damn sanity and your honour. Before I took you against the wall.’

  ‘Oh? It was good, then?’ she asked, trying to quell the initial elation and excitement until she knew for sure.

  Facing front, he thrust his fingers through his hair and clawed down his face. ‘And now I finally see what has been staring me in the face. Tell me, when you look in the mirror, what do you see?’

  Shaking her head, she inched backwards. But given the space deprivation she didn’t make much progress.

  ‘Exactly,’ he said, turning back to face her. ‘You do not like what you see.’

  She tore at her lip. Why was he persecuting her like this? In truth she couldn’t remember the last time she’d peered at her reflection—except for in the en-suite bedroom in Lucas’s penthouse. Because she loathed every flaw. Wondered if every slight shade variation on her skin was her imagination or a sign of something to come.

  His eyes darkened to the colour of midnight. ‘Why? I ask myself. When you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.’

  Stupefied, she parted her lips as a war erupted inside her—her mind tripping over disbelief, her heart squeezing at his earnest words. Because she knew he wouldn’t lie. ‘Oh...’

  Lucas snorted. ‘Suddenly you have lost your internal dictionary. It seems I have found another way to shut you up. I shall remember this.’

  ‘I preferred the other way,’ she said, remembering the way he’d backed her up against the car outside her flat. She’d been right! He’d been going to kiss her. She wanted him to. Right. Now.

  He laughed without a speck of humour. ‘Do not even think about it.’

  ‘Well, why not? If I want to and you want to... Couldn’t we just...?’ She wanted him to kiss her again so desperately she smothered her lips in moisture. Maybe if he touched her, put his hands on her breasts, they wouldn’t ache so much.

  ‘No. No. And do not look at me in that way!’

  ‘I’m not,’ she said, before his words registered. ‘What way?’

  ‘With those slumberous eyes and that sexy mouth. I—’ He groaned and flung himself back into the seat.

  She had a sexy mouth? ‘So where’s the problem in that?’

  ‘The problem with that, Claudia, is that along with your beauty I see a woman who I am forbidden to touch—and no,’ he said, palm facing her in a stop sign, ‘I am not only talking about my position at the palace. I am talking about my life. My rules. Did you not listen to a word I said yesterday? I have sex. Pure and simple.’

  ‘Really?’ It sounded kind of exciting to her. She’d never done anything exciting in her whole life. If just the idea exploded some of those fiery cells inside her, imagine what thrilling ecstasy she would experience if they actually did it. Although she guessed excitement was the improper response, because Lucas had seemingly caught the stimulated pitch in her tone and grim contempt slashed across his face.

  ‘It is just sex, Claudia. Meaningless. A short diversion with women I do not know. Woman who comprehend that I will leave and never, ever come back.’

  When he said it like that, so cold and detached, she felt a shiver swarm across the base of her spine. He left. But didn’t everyone? Of course they did. Except this time she would be leaving. After this trip she’d never see him again. She knew that. And surely the hollow pang she felt inside her at that thought was only because Lucas kept distracting her at breakfast.

  ‘Sí. Now you understand,’ he said, somewhat relieved.

  Yes, clearly he used women. But surely they used him too? For pleasure? What was so wrong about that? Now she knew the attraction was reciprocated it was her chance to experiment with her body, explore all these new and fantastic sensations. When his lips touched hers she forgot everything. The past. What was to come. And, in truth, she wanted to experience being desired, wanted. Just once in her life. She’d never trust another man as long as she lived.

  ‘I am hard, unfeeling,’
he bit out. ‘I am not a man to become attached to. Comprende?’

  Claudia began to wonder who exactly he was trying to convince here. She nodded. ‘I’m not deaf, Lucas, I understand perfectly.’

  Good grief, the last thing she wanted was to become attached to the man. Apart from the fact he was emotionally void, he lived in a different country. She was going home in three weeks—back to her life, to London, to Bailey. And she might trust him with her life but she’d never trust him with her heart. Claudia knew the price of loving, of needing. Inevitable heartbreak.

  ‘Bueno,’ he said, giving her a searching look, not entirely convinced. ‘Good.’

  ‘You just have sex. You don’t get involved. You walk away,’ she said, warming more to the idea with every passing second even as her body was shaking itself apart with adrenaline. No emotions. The thrill of undiscovered excitement. One taste of passion: a memory to last her a lifetime. And, more importantly, Claudia would be the one to walk away. ‘And you find me b...beautiful, right?’

  He blinked, worked his mouth round the word. ‘Yes.’

  ‘That’s okay, then. Because I just want sex too.’

  A stunned light flashed in his intent stare. ‘Madre de Dios!’ he said, raising his hands as if praying to the heavens for patience.

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Sí? Well,’ he said, with caustic bite, ‘we both know that oftentimes your sense of self-preservation is severely lacking.’

  ‘But I—’

  ‘No, Claudia. No buts. It is impossible.’

  The slash of his hand acted like a zipper across her lips.

  Slumping back onto the leather seat, she fastened her eyes on the view. Watched the flashing images of small stucco homes as the car sped through the outskirts of town—everything a blur.

  Maybe she hadn’t handled that so well. Obviously he thought she’d want more than he could give. So she had to convince Lucas that beyond this visit and her obligation to play princess for the night of the ball she was Just Claudia. And Just Claudia wanted exactly the same thing he did. No commitment. No messy entanglements. Just sex.

  The question was: how did she convince him of that?

  A blast of trepidation evaporated the moisture on her nape as she remembered who she was—gauche, fidgety and, to use one of Lucas’s words, clueless in the art of all things sexual.

  Her stomach hit the leather with a disheartened thump.

  Lucas’s women were no doubt the opposite of her in every way—glamorous spelk-like things who knew what they were about. Knew how to lure, to seduce. She wouldn’t know where to start. And how could she possibly satisfy a veritable god of war and passion? It was the most ridiculous idea she’d ever thought up. So why did it also feel like the most wonderful?

  Risking another look at him, she bit her inner cheek.

  Fingers curved over his mouth, he stared into the distance, his other hand clenching and releasing where it lay on his thick thigh. One look and that wicked, salacious torrent doused some of her unease. She brushed her hair from her face with the back of her unsteady hand and straightened in her seat.

  Fear has no place in your heart right now.

  She could do this. Absolutely. He was worth it. She wanted a taste of passion. Just once in her life. And she trusted him. It was perfect.

  She could do this.

  After all, had he not told her she was capable of anything she put her mind to?

  CHAPTER NINE

  THAT’S OKAY, THEN. Because I just want sex too.

  Lucas scratched his name along the bottom of another LGAS contract, no doubt scoring the wood beneath, then flexed his neck, rolling the stiffness from his shoulders.

  Dios, the woman was going to be the death of him. And, although she’d seemed to accept his ‘impossible’ decree in the car, he could not shake the sense that he was staring down the barrel of a gun.

  ‘I’m done. We can go, if you’re ready.’

  Claudia’s soft voice, a tad apprehensive, drifted from somewhere over his left shoulder.

  ‘Sí. One moment.’ Feet flat to the floor, he pushed his chair back from the small table where he’d set up a temporary office in the corner of the boutique. Twisting at the waist, he bent double and wedged the papers back into his briefcase on the floor.

  The click-click of heels on parquet snagged his attention and his gaze darted to a pair of... He swallowed. A pair of sexy-as-hell black peeptoe heels, adorned with a diamond and sapphire-encrusted brooch just above small toes.

  A tsunami thundering through town couldn’t have stopped his eyes from doing a slow glissade over sculpted ankles, up over sleek honey-gold skin that sheathed the sexiest pair of calves he’d ever seen...until they disappeared at the knee beneath the flirty edges of a sapphire-blue pleated skirt. No, he amended, his heart thumping in his chest, it was a dress, skimming the lush flare of her hips, cinching the small span of her waist with a black silk sash. At the full curve of her lush breasts his eyes lingered, just a beat, before rising to the slash neck and floating down the length of her arms to stop at her wrists.

  His pulse spiked so hard a shaft of pain shot across his chest.

  A delicate throat-clearing made him blink. He was half out of his seat, staring like some doe-eyed recruit, for God’s sake.

  Lucas bolted upright. The chair hit the floor with a thud and his eyes careened into Claudia’s.

  ‘Do I look okay?’ she asked, head canted, sucking provocatively on her lower lip, her brow creased in an endearingly nervous little frown.

  ‘Sí,’ he said, searching for the right words, cursing himself that he was ill equipped to do her justice. You look beautiful wasn’t quite right, because nothing on earth was as beautiful as her face. Sophisticated? Or just downright knee-knockingly gorgeous? In the end he settled for the absolute truth, knowing she needed to hear it. ‘Words fail me, Princesa.’

  One corner of her delectable mouth lifted. ‘That’s good, right?’

  Shrugging, he made his reply lazy, despite the magnitude of its importance. For it was extraordinary to believe a woman of such beauty disliked her own reflection. Believed she was imperfect in any way. When in reality the only thing she lacked was self-confidence. Well, not today. ‘Sí. Very, very good. It is also unheard of.’

  Her smile blazed to killer proportions before she gnawed her lip and slowly, warily, closed the distance between them.

  ‘Claudia?’ he growled, not liking where this was going. Or possibly liking it too much.

  Being assailed with her vanilla-drenched scent doubled the dose of want and he stiffened from top to toe as she curled her fingers round the lapel of his jacket, tugged...rose on her tiptoes and dropped a delicate kiss on his cheek, whispering, ‘Thank you...’ against the sensitive skin on the underside of his ear.

  A shudder racked down his spine and he fisted his hands to stop himself from hauling her close. Instead he watched her long nimble fingers stroke down the lapel of his jacket—an innocent touch he swore he could feel against his bare skin—then turn on her kitten-heels towards the door, hips swaying with a natural hypnotic rhythm that distorted his vision.

  ‘Lucas, are you coming?’

  No, unfortunately not. Although if she kept touching him...

  What the hell was she thinking, kissing him like that? When he’d already told her no! Dios, maybe he was over-analysing what could have been a simple thank-you.

  Discarding his unease, he snatched his briefcase from the floor and strode towards her. ‘Give your bags to Armande and we’ll walk through town.’

  The assistants scurried over with an armful of bags, a pair of large sunglasses and a black hat trimmed with the same blue of her dress. Claudia eased the hat atop her head and slowly pushed the glasses up her nose.

  ‘Camouflage, Claudia?’ Although he had to admit she looked stunning. Like the front cover spread of some glossy American magazine.

  ‘Baby steps, Lucas.’

  He didn’t bother telling her she was
wasting her time.

  As predicted, flying under the radar had become a distant memory, because every pair of eyes swung in Claudia’s direction and locked on target as they sauntered down the main avenue—his favourite part of the old town.

  Blossom trees lined the road, branches heavy with a full show of colour, and the light breeze wafted tiny pink and cream petals in every direction to settle on the cobbles beneath their feet.

  ‘Now I know what it feels like to be a cell on a slide,’ she said, tugging on the sleeves of her dress in that habitual way that drove him loco, before inching closer as if needing to absorb his strength.

  ‘Let them see the Lost Princess has returned.’

  ‘Is that why they’re staring so much?’ she asked, her honeyed voice tainted with amazement. With a discreet jerk of her head she motioned up ahead. ‘Even him?’

  Pausing mid-stride, Lucas looked up to see a young hotshot sitting on one of the stone benches lining the street, leering at Claudia with blatant lust.

  Locking a growl in his chest, he curved his arm around her small waist, protectively, and steered her past, ignoring the slow burn up his arm. It was untenable to realise the ramifications of her illness.

  ‘Has it never occurred to you that after you recovered from your illness people would look at you for an entirely different reason? Men would stare because they were enthralled? Women would stare with envy?’

  ‘N...no,’ she said, stunned, and breathless as she sidled closer still. ‘Not once.’

  Dios, little wonder there had been no men in her life. ‘Well, now you know,’ he said, dropping his arm as if she were a grenade. Before he nigh on detonated.

  ‘As for the rest—remember you are a mystery to them.’

  On cue, a small girl tentatively approached Claudia, all long blonde curls and sweet smiles as she curtsied and bestowed upon her a small posy of lilacs from behind her back.