Princess in the Iron Mask

by Victoria Parker

  Red.

  Dios, what was wrong with him?

  He tried once more, wondering if the damn thing had jammed, and calculated the time and distance to run through the house. No contest. One more try.

  His fingers flew across the pad.

  Red.

  ‘Dammit.’

  She was thigh-deep, almost at the ledge, and his hands were goddamn trembling.

  Sloppy, Garcia, very sloppy.

  He closed his eyes, breathed deep, found the higher plain he often visited in the dead of night. Focused on the pad once more. Punched the code a little slower, more controlled.

  Green.

  Grabbing the lever handle, he pulled the heavy door wide enough to slide his frame through the gap. Then he gripped the steel rail surrounding the terrace with one hand and launched over the side to drop twelve feet down onto the sand, ignoring the shard of pain slicing through his foot.

  Lungs tight, he ran for the shoreline. ‘Claudia, do not go any further!’

  But the closer he got the more he could see she was nowhere near the sheer drop. Yet.

  ‘Claudia!’ He hit the water, feet pounding, the sand sucking at his loafers. ‘Damn woman,’ he muttered, lifting one foot to yank off his shoe, then the other, and throwing them over his shoulder. ‘Claudia!’ he repeated, closing the distance.

  She spun around, her eyes...alight? A huge smile illuminated her face. Curls bobbed, caressing her smooth, honeyed shoulders.

  ‘Lucas, look!’ she said. ‘Fish.’

  Bending forward, she pointed to her feet with both forefingers, ramping her cleavage to a lush slit, and his vision blurred.

  ‘I’m in the sea and I can feel squillions of teeny fish tickling my legs. It’s amazing.’

  She hopped, breasts bouncing, and desire slammed into him with the force of a tidal wave—which did not help his current state of mind

  ‘Fish! Madre de Dios—fish, Claudia!’ he said, balling his hands before he hauled her into his arms, because the need to touch her was so violent he quaked with it. ‘What the hell are you doing all the way out here? I told you the sea was off-limits!’

  Eerily slowly she straightened, narrowed her eyes, and folded her arms across her taut stomach—the action bunched those incredible breasts above her bikini top, making them threaten to spill over.

  ‘No, you didn’t. You told me—and these were your exact words—“No swimming in the sea, Cllowtia. Comprende? There is a ledge beyond which a fierce undercurrent could suck you under.” That is what you said.’

  His chest heaved, ‘Sí. That is exactly what I said.’

  ‘So I’m paddling.’

  ‘Paddling is also forbidden!’

  ‘Forbidden?’ she yelled, arms dropping to her sides, hands fisting for a fight, her tone as angry as her gorgeous face. ‘What do want me to do, Lucas? Stay in the house while you ignore me or bark instructions as to where I’m going next. Don’t I obey your every command? Well, I’ve had it. It’s driving me crazy!’

  Getting turned on even more by her temper was probably a bad sign, he thought. ‘Quiet and solitude never bothered you in London!’

  She seemed to think about that. ‘That was then. And I was working. Really, Lucas, don’t you think you’re overreacting?’

  ‘No.’ Although he had to admit from his office she’d seemed a lot farther away.

  ‘For God’s sake, can’t you forget about your blasted job for one minute?’ she hollered.

  ‘My job?’

  ‘You aren’t going to deprive the country of an apparent national treasure by letting me paddle! And... Oh!’

  She scrunched her nose in that cute way she did sometimes.

  Cute? Dios, he was losing the plot. She was senseless and selfish and— Wasn’t she?

  ‘Ow!’ she said, wincing as she looked down. Lifted her foot.

  Before she could blink, he shot forward, grabbed her waist and lifted her clean out of the water. ‘What is it?’

  Her hands clamped on his shoulders, fingers digging into his flesh, and either he pulled or she jumped, because the next thing he knew her breasts were crushed against his chest and her legs were wrapped tight around his waist, hooking at the small of his back.

  Madre de Dios!

  ‘Something was getting a bit too friendly,’ she said, a little tremble in her voice.

  ‘Sí. I do not blame them,’ he muttered, distracted by the feel of the soft skin sheathing her decadent curves. Bad, bad idea, Garcia. The only thing missing from his earlier erotic fantasy was his carbon-steel erection sliding inside of her. ‘You are killing me, Claudia.’

  Cupping her delicious derrière, Lucas took all her weight and her fingers slackened their death grip on his shoulders—trusting him, knowing he wouldn’t allow her to fall. Such a small thing, but it made his heart stutter and the need to pull her tighter into his body was a ferocious claw. To hold her, just this once, with her glorious hair falling over his bare forearms, a soft and silky caress.

  One of her hands slipped off his shoulder, smoothed down his chest, lay over his breast.

  ‘Your heart feels like it’s going to burst through your skin,’ she said, her voice awed.

  ‘It might,’ he breathed, watching her face heat as she stared at his open collar.

  With her free hand she tiptoed her fingers to the base of his throat...stroked up his neck and over his jaw, leaving a blazing trail in her wake. And when she slipped her finger between his lips he couldn’t resist licking the blunt tip and lightly sucking on her salty flesh.

  Fire ignited her amber gaze and through two layers he could feel her pert nipples rub his chest, the erotic graze making him groan long and low.

  ‘This is insane. I have to put you down.’ Before he came in his damn boxers. ‘Are you hurt?’

  ‘Agony,’ she murmured. ‘Can’t possibly walk.’

  His lips twitched. He knew full well they were not discussing her foot, and he turned back towards the house, heading for shore. Which was torture in itself, because with every step the tip of his erection rubbed her moist core.

  Dios...

  Claudia wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Hung on tight as if she never wanted to let go. Thrust her fingers into the hair at his nape and nuzzled the skin beneath his ear.

  ‘No,’ he growled, a shudder racking his big frame.

  So of course she did it again, quick learner that she was, and he could feel her lips curve into a wicked smile.

  ‘You haven’t shaved,’ she whispered. ‘I love the rough scrape against my lips. I want to know what it feels like in other places.’

  He groaned as the heat built to inferno proportions. ‘No, you do not.’

  As if to prove him wrong she ground her pelvis against him and Lucas gritted his teeth...he was going to lose it any damn second.

  A tiny moan from deep in the back of her throat goaded him...tearing at his precarious hold. And when the hot sand seared his feet Lucas loosened his grip and allowed her to slide down his body. The friction severed the final thread, and he slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her with the full crush of his pent-up desire.

  Finally.

  Her lips, soft and pliant, felt like heaven, and the last few days and nights of sexual tension drained from his neck, trickled down his vertebrae to pool with more heat in his groin.

  Dios, if he were any harder he’d be dead. But still he hauled her closer, pressing her tight against his body and glorying in the sensation of her lush curves surrendering.

  Just one kiss, he told himself, needing to assuage the fear that still clung to his brain. One kiss. No more, he bargained. He traced the line of her mouth to be let in—a quick flick to the corner, a soft slide along her lower lip and she parted instantly.

  Blood roared through his head, drowning out all caution, and he drove his hands into the thick fall of her hair, holding her head still as his tongue took hers in a wild dance of pleasure. Slip-slide, intense and erotic. All he could think was more.
..more.

  Dios, he could kiss her for hours, days, months... ‘Claudia,’ he said, taking a breath before he suffocated. ‘Push me away.’

  She cupped his jaw, her fingertips dangerously close to the underside of his ears, and nipped at his lips. ‘Make love to me, Lucas.’

  His heart crashed against his ribcage. ‘No.’ Impossible. He closed his eyes. Touched his forehead to hers. ‘You need to keep yourself for...’

  ‘I told you—I’m married to my job, just as you are.’

  He knew it. Bone-deep, he knew she was right. She was trying while she was here, but as soon as the green light shone she’d be gone.

  ‘I heard you the first time,’ he said, tightening his grip on the small span of her waist to grind against her. The delicious abrasion made them moan in unison—an erotic, mind-blowing sound that rent the air.

  ‘Oh, good. Finally we’re on the same page. I want you so much, Lucas.’

  ‘Untouched,’ he murmured, forcing himself to pull back, needing distance. To breathe. To think.

  ‘Mmm-hmm. And I want you to touch me. Make love to me.’

  A fist of panic hit him in the chest. ‘I thought you wanted sex.’

  ‘What’s the difference?’ she asked, dropping lush, moist kisses along his jaw.

  She’d never know what the difference was—not if he could help it. Claudia might not want commitment, but she was not some quick, easy lay. The mere thought made his guts twist, made him suddenly unsure if he was capable of being the man she needed.

  Slightly distracted by the pulse pounding in his trousers, and the sight of her toned flat stomach leading to the curve of her femininity, it took a huge amount of effort for him to think. ‘You should not be so willing to part with your purity for a man like me.’

  Slivers of molten anger lit her eyes. ‘What man is that, Lucas? The country’s hero? My protector?’

  ‘Claudia, you do not know me.’ He might be all of those things to her right now, but if she knew the dark truth of his dangerous past—

  ‘I know enough,’ she whispered, fisting his hair, tugging gently, kissing his mouth with the moist crush of her lips. ‘There’s only one man in the world who I want...who I trust. And that man is you.’

  Lucas bowed his head. Trust. She trusted him. And he’d never wanted anything more than to taste her. To show her.

  Watching the rapid rise and fall of her chest, he stroked up her midriff, ran his thumb along the underside of her breast and felt her stomach spasm beneath his palm. Desperate to see her every reaction, he gazed into her eyes while he cupped one heavy breast, taking the weight, thumbing the tight nipple poking through the Lycra.

  ‘Oh...’ Her dark lashes fluttered.

  Her legs gave way and Lucas tightened his hold on her waist.

  Dios, she was so responsive. But what if he hurt her?

  ‘Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want to make love to me,’ she said. ‘If you can, I’ll leave. Tonight.’

  Everything inside him rebelled. His voice turned thick, pained. ‘You know I cannot say that, querida.’

  ‘Exactamente,’ she whispered, her gorgeous Arunthian accent heavy. ‘Bésame. Kiss me until we can’t breathe. Take the agony away. Please, Lucas.’

  She opened her mouth and sank her teeth delicately, deliciously into his bottom lip. And he gave up the fight, uncaring of tomorrow, just knowing he needed her, needed this explosion of passion to take him to the edge of the abyss and throw him over the other side.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CLAUDIA BASKED IN the taste of his wild desperation as Lucas carried her swiftly through the dusk-drenched house, never leaving her mouth.

  When they finally reached his bedroom he slowly ended the kiss and oh-so-languidly let her slide down his body until her feet hit the luxuriously thick wool carpet. As he stepped backwards a cool sweep of air dashed over her body and she shivered, the thought of him changing his mind a deep, dark hollow in her soul.

  Risking a look at him, she felt the chill evaporate in an instant when, with a sexy smile, he tugged the shirt from his waistband and tore it from his torso, making her insides dissolve into a potent liquid heat.

  She’d seen him earlier, of course, but up close he epitomised a modern-day gladiator. Smooth cast-bronze skin stretched taut over military-honed dominating muscle, and his hard pecs flexed as he unsnapped the button of his trousers.

  Her breath was now coming in short pants and she swallowed hard. Told herself to look away while he undressed. But she was desperate to watch him, see him. In all his spectacular glory.

  The expensive cut of black cloth parted excruciatingly slowly, as if to tease, and she couldn’t help the smile toying about her lips. Lucas loaded with bad-boy charisma gave her a swift sharp thrill that made her want to come out and play.

  Reaching behind her, she gripped the bikini catch and then stilled—heart thumping against her ribs—wondering if Lucas would like what he saw. Oh, she hadn’t thought of that, and she felt the heat leach from her face. But she was in a bikini, and really there wasn’t much left to uncover, right? And she’d felt his hardness, tasted his passion on her tongue. Now was not the time to torture herself with visions of his other women. He was Claudia’s. For now. She didn’t need to hide from him. And the hunger to satisfy him, prove she was worth the effort so he’d never regret making love to her, overwhelmed any lingering doubt.

  Claudia unsnapped the clasp, rolled her shoulders and watched the coffee-coloured splash drift to the floor at his feet. After a bracing heartbeat she looked up to his face, saw the fierce need in his sapphire eyes and felt a delicious river of satisfaction pour down her spine.

  He slowly peeled the material back from his ripped stomach, shucked his trousers to the floor in one deft move, taking his hipsters with them. So self-assured, so brazen, and—oh, my—he had every right to be. Not that she had anything to compare except what she’d seen in art—much, much smaller—but, hey, intellect told her they would fit together. They had to or she’d die.

  Then he cupped her face in his hands, traced the full curve of her lips, the arcs of her cheeks with his thumbs. ‘We go slow. I need to know if I...’ His throat convulsed. ‘If I hurt you.’

  Heart-shatteringly wonderful—that was what he was. She wondered if her inexperience was what bothered him the most. It made her even more determined to relax, to make it good for him. ‘You won’t.’

  Lucas lowered his mouth and kissed her hungrily. She melted into his arms, loving the feel of his fevered skin, touching as much of him as she could and brushing up against his hardness. She squirmed, needing him to hurry, to do something to relieve the clenching knot of tension building in her stomach.

  ‘More,’ she said against his mouth.

  ‘Slow,’ he murmured back.

  She groaned as his lips slid from hers, already missing the wild tangle of his tongue, and sucked at her lower lip, wanting, needing, to taste him again.

  ‘Dios, you are incredible,’ he said, tracing hot, wet, exciting kisses down her throat. And when he reached the spot, just there, where her neck met her shoulder, and grazed her with his teeth, nibbled, her stomach spasmed on a rush of heat.

  ‘Oh, Lucas. I...’

  She sank her fingers into his hair, twisted, holding on, pulling him into her tighter.

  One of his big warm hands cupped her breast, squeezed gently, thumbed her nipple and that was it—her legs crumpled beneath her.

  In one swift move Lucas swept her up and laid her upon the bed. ‘Querida, you are so responsive,’ he said, his voice pained. ‘The smallest touch sets you ablaze.’

  ‘Your touch, Lucas,’ she whispered, needing him to understand. Only him. There would only ever be him. ‘Could you do something about that?’

  He chuckled, crawled over her, and braced his arms above her head. ‘I know exactly what you need.’

  ‘I’m so glad,’ she said, smiling up at him, drinking him in.

  Lowering himself to his
elbows, his face inches from hers, he swept the hair away from her brow. ‘Your glorious hair against my sheets. Dios, you are so beautiful, Claudia.’

  Her heart cracked wide open at the pure masculine appreciation slashing across his handsome face and she tugged him down for another of his scorching kisses, exulting in the feeling of being wanted, desired.

  She writhed on the sumptuous covers as he trailed his lips down her neck, his hand following the curve of her waist, gripping so possessively she shivered.

  That same hand curved around her ribs, scooped her breast and—oh, my—the sensation of him taking its weight, lapping at her pebbled nipple, before taking the peak into his hot wet mouth to suck gently made her cry out. The high-pitched sound flooded the room, mingling with his hoarse groan.

  When he nipped at her wet nipple, teeth sharp yet gentle, she lost control. ‘Oh, yes...’ She jerked her hips, wanting, needing him to touch her. There. ‘More.’ But the brute didn’t seem to care. He merely redirected his attention to her other breast, laving it, taking her higher still.

  She phased in and out, the need in her belly curling tighter, more urgent, until she was tangling her fingers in his hair, raking her nails down his wide muscular shoulders.

  Lucas tore his mouth away. ‘I need to see you. All of you,’ he said, sounding a little more desperate, and she revelled in the sudden infusion of female power as he shuffled down the bed, hooked his fingers in her shorts and eased the material down over her hips.

  She gripped the satin covers, fisting the cool material in her hands, raised her legs, one and then the other, to help him, squeezing her eyes shut. Oh, God, what was he thinking?

  ‘Open for me, angel,’ he said, voice thick.

  Angel? Oh, why did that make her feel special? As if she was the only woman he wanted. Could ever want. She shouldn’t think like that, but this was a dream and she never wanted to wake up.

  Lucas stroked up her thigh, stilled...

  Hauling in some much needed bravery, she opened her eyes, saw the look of unadulterated desire slashing his cheekbones crimson. His hair tumbled over his brow as he looked down at the very heart of her and stroked the soft skin of her inner thigh.