Princess in the Iron Mask (10 page)

‘Dios,’
he muttered, scooping her back up against his chest. ‘I need to get you out of here.’

She said nothing, just buried her hot face in his shoulder, trying not to touch, twisting her fingers together in the deep well between her stomach and his. Her brain was in a complete state of confusion. Why had he kissed her? What on earth had possessed her to kiss
him?
One minute she’d been ranting like some despicable idiot and the next... Heart breaking, she’d craved a distraction—that was all. Maybe comfort. There wasn’t anything pathetic about that, was there?

Oh, God.

Any lingering warmth froze solid in her veins as he opened the door and reality closed in.

Daylight stroked her eyelids. London’s midday crush filtered through her ears and Lucas’s scent was replaced with smoggy car fumes and greasy bacon from the van permanently stationed in the hospital car park. The mingling aromas were enough to plunge her farther into reality, and her heart crumpled when she realised what she’d allowed Lucas to see. Her. Pathetic and needy. Vulnerable. The girl she’d buried long ago.

‘Are you able to stand?’ he asked.

‘Of course,’ she said, sliding down his body to her feet. The sensation reminded her, made her voice hitch. ‘Thank you.’

He raked an irritable hand round the back of his neck. ‘Claudia, about what just happened...’

He averted his gaze to some place over her left shoulder. But not before she caught the glimpse of uneasy regret.

Claudia closed her eyes. It was worse than she’d thought.

Sharing a student flat at university had taught her to close her ears to wanton chatter. But she wasn’t tone deaf or completely ignorant about sex. She’d heard of a pity lay, and she guessed she’d just experienced the pity-kiss equivalent. The thought made her feel physically sick. Yes, she’d felt him, hard and amazing against her stomach, but how many times had she seen classmates hop from one bed to another regardless of attraction? Sex was sex to men, as long as it resulted in a high-octane pay-off.

‘I should not have done it,’ he bit out, anger slashing across his cheeks.

‘You’re right. You shouldn’t. Not for the reasons you did.’

His brow crunched, his mouth shaping for speech, and she couldn’t bear to hear any more excuses. This was humiliating enough.

‘Don’t worry about it, Lucas. It meant nothing, right?’ She shrugged in an attempt to lighten the mood.

‘Right.’

‘We’ll just go on like it never happened.’

Painfully aware he was starting to read her like a kindergarten book, she didn’t appreciate the way he scanned her face. The notion made her reach for a curveball and throw it out there. ‘I just thought—what the hell? I’ll try it.’

A stunned light flashed in his intense stare.
‘Qué?’

‘Kissing,’ she said, her heart lifting as she warmed to the idea. The
last
thing she needed was Lucas thinking she had designs on him. ‘It was better than I thought.’

He blinked.

She smiled.

‘That,’ he said, pointing back to the hospital, still blinking wide eyes, ‘was the first time you’ve been...
kissed?
’

‘Yes.’

It took a few seconds for him to absorb that tasty little snippit, his jaw falling off its hinges in the process. As embarrassing as never-been-kissed was to admit, it was a far better alternative to the undoubted ego-boost that she fancied the pants off him.

And then her scurrilous mind darted in yet another direction, spawning her need to be the very best. At everything.

‘So tell me, just so I know for the future, did I do it right?’

A sound spluttered from his lips—something between a cough and a growl.
‘Sí,’
he said vaguely. Too vaguely for her liking.

He was just being a gentleman. She didn’t like being under par. As a person she fed off success. On an intellectual level, that was. Until now.

She rubbed her fingertips across the plump flesh of her lips. Had she been too soft? Too hard? Too wet? Maybe she hadn’t opened her mouth enough. It had been perfectly delicious to her, but...

Oh, heavens. He was staring at her mouth.

She stilled.

His eyes shot up to hers: liquid ozone, dark and intense. ‘And was it as you’d hoped?’

Stifling a smile, she went for light, airy. ‘Oh, it was fine. Nothing like custard.’

CHAPTER SIX

N
EVER
BEEN
KISSED
.

Lucas sat in the plush lounge area of the jet, coffee sliding over his tongue, scorching the erotic blend of Claudia from his mouth. Lowering the cup to the table, he glanced covertly across the cabin to where she’d finally settled—curled into a deep swivel bucket seat, her long legs dangling over the side.

She was buried in work. Fierce concentration marred the silky skin of her brow as she pushed her glasses up her nose and scribbled another note in her book.

Did I do it right?

Lucas scrubbed his hands over his face. Trust Claudia to pour every ounce of delectable effort into her first kiss and succeed in blowing his mind.

What the hell had he been thinking, kissing her in the first place? He hadn’t been thinking. Not with the correct head anyway. With one forbidden touch he’d lost control.
Dios,
he should never have laid a finger on her. But she’d been aching, hurting. The pain in her eyes had thrown him.

Practically across the corridor.

Holding her—her scent a warm shroud, her flesh heating his blood, her touch a sensual deluge—resistance had become futile.

And if he thought Claudia had been lost in the moment she’d soon murdered the notion, squashing his ego like a bug underfoot. No, no,
no
—she’d just wanted to
try
it!
Madre de Dios,
what was he? One of her experiments? And his kiss apparently was
fine.
She’d used the most insipid word in the universe. To describe him. While he’d sunk deeper into the abyss with every tentative stroke of her tongue.

If one kiss could devour his body and mind, what kind of destruction could she cause with her clothes off? He was a man who preferred a predictable low-level and controllable response to a woman. Yet he was hard just thinking about sinking into her sensational body—as ludicrous and impossible as it was.

Jacket discarded, she still wore the fawn silk shirt and figure-hugging trousers of earlier, and he swallowed around a bullet-clogged barrel. His hands were imprinted with her flesh, firm and lush, and his eyes dipped to her breasts, remembering the heavy weight of their perfection.

Catching a groan halfway up his throat, Lucas tore his eyes away, tension building in his chest as he became more resentful of her powerful allure. Not only was she his current mission, he lived his life free of encumbrance and always would. To be in thrall to his desires, to any kind of emotion, was like begging for an assassin’s bullet: it made you weak. So he worked, he fought for everything he believed in—justice, honour, duty—the only way he knew how. Hollow to the core.

Claudia—any woman, for that matter—deserved far more than an empty shell of a man.

Lost in thought, he mechanically ate lunch. Claudia declined anything bar a glass of sparkling water, and the silence stretched to breaking point.

Until the smack and skid of a glossy magazine on the table in front of him broke through the lull.

‘What...?’ She took a deep breath. ‘What is this, Lucas?’

Hands flat to the table, Claudia leaned forward, and he ordered his eyes not to dip to the gaping V of her shirt and the heaving swell of smooth golden skin. Skin he could kiss and lick and suck for hours, until the woman forgot her own name and begged him to—

‘A magazine,’ he said, as fierce as the erection pushing against his zipper.

‘Funny how you’ve never bothered to tell me the real reason my parents want me back.’

He shifted slightly, grateful for the mention of her parents. His promise. Her duty. ‘They wish to see you. That is the true reason.’

‘No. They want to showcase their perfect family to the world for the event of the decade.’ Her trembling fingers curled into fists in front of him, and a quiver seeped through her voice. ‘A party, Lucas?’

‘What is so bad about a party?’

‘They want a princess and I’m no longer that person. I can’t be what they want. You told me—’

‘You can be anyone you want to be. I have seen enough versions of Claudia in the past twenty-four hours to convince me of that.’

The ice maiden, the seductive intellectual, a Mother Teresa, and glimpses of a vulnerability that cut him to the core. Not forgetting the scientist who wanted scoring on a kiss.
Dios,
little wonder he didn’t know what he was about in her company. She did
not
make sense.

His stomach dipped in time with the plane. ‘Buckle up, Princess.’

She scrambled onto the seat beside him, her fraying temper visibly morphing into sheer panic. ‘Could we circle a few more times?’

Her fingers fumbled with the metal buckle and after a few seconds he pushed her hands away and clicked it shut.

‘No, we cannot. What is wrong with you?’

Amber eyes locked on his. ‘I’m not too good with people.’

‘
Qué?
Do I look stupid to you, Claudia? Within ten minutes of our meeting you were chewing my head off, and you were perfectly at ease with Armande and Bailey.’

‘I’ve known Bailey for months. She’s a child. And how would you know how I was with Armande? You left me! So much for your personal protection.’

Indignity was a slap in his face. ‘I was dealing with the rep—’ He broke off. She didn’t need to know about the reporter. He still had a hard time believing he could have been so negligent. This was what she did to him. Threw him so far off course it was like navigating the jungle without a compass.

‘Reporter?’ Her hand curled up her chest to wrap around her throat, where her pulse beat erratically. ‘The man outside my flat? You found him?’

‘
Sí.
Not a figment of my imagination after all.’

She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. ‘Did he take pictures?’

‘Yes. I destroyed them.’

Her eyes turned stormy, frantic. ‘This is what it’s going to be like. I’m going to be watched. Stared at. Photographed. Basically put under the microscope.’ Her words trailed to a panicked whisper.

A coil of unease snaked through his guts.
That
was the problem, he realised. Without camouflage, with her identity known, she couldn’t hide. Neither from the paparazzi nor in a ballroom full to bursting with people.

Bracing himself for landing, he waited for the inevitable crash.

‘I can’t do it, Lucas. I’m sorry,’ she said, shaking her head, her amber eyes brimming with tears. Tears that tore at his heart. ‘You have to turn this plane around and take me home.’

Lucas rejected the imminent threat of a memory ready to suck him under. ‘Impossible. I cannot. It is too late.’

He had to get her home. Her true home. Not some dingy flat in central London. She needed to be with her family, surrounded by the dense, protective barrier of the palace walls. Where she could finally do her duty and take responsibility for that part of her life.

Long fingers gripped his forearm, bit into his flesh, frenzied...wild. ‘You can do anything you want to, Lucas. I know that now.’

‘No, I—’ He broke off, steely dread making his limbs feel heavy as he sank down, down, suffocating under the sudden image of another time, another place, another woman. Begging him to hide her, desperate fear in her eyes for what was to come.

A woman who hid from the world while vulnerability ruled her every waking moment.

The truth slammed into him.

This was the real Claudia Verbault. She too hid her tender vulnerabilities, her secrets from the world—just as his mother had. A woman who’d needed him. A woman he’d failed.

‘Please. I’m begging you, Lucas. Take me home.’

* * *

Claudia was way past the point of no return. Lucas had been so distracting she’d never even given herself time to consider what arriving in Arunthia would feel like. Now she knew. It felt as if the world was about to quake, slash open to form a gigantic crater and swallow her whole.

Buried deep, her memories began to scramble to the surface, hitting her with one deft punch after another.

It was quite possible that at the back of her mind she’d hoped her parents wanted to see her again so desperately they would do anything. Like send a towering brute to give her three and a half million pounds to make her happy. She was such a fool. They wanted Claudine the Princess, and she was anything but. She wasn’t ready. Nowhere near ready. She wanted to go home and wrap herself in a warm cocoon. To think of work—the only thing she knew, the only thing she was good at. To be alone and safe. Just for a little while longer.

The ache in her stomach was another deep, dark hollow that seemed to engulf her very soul.

Yes, Lucas had been right about the reporter, and from the look on his face there was more to that story than he was telling her. Were people so interested in her?
Please, no.
She couldn’t cope with that kind of intrusion.

Lucas was staring at her, thunderclouds brewing in his dark eyes. Then he blinked and vanquished the storm. ‘
Dios,
you are trembling. Claudia, all will be well. Your family will be there for you.’

A mirthless laugh burst from her searing throat. Her parents offering her
support?
‘Oh, Lucas, you have no idea.’

He frowned. ‘So tell me.’

How could she? He worked for the crown. She could sense he respected her parents. Admired them. And deep down she knew Lucas would take their side. She might as well dig compassion out of a stone.

‘I’ve been away from here so long,’ she said, trying to think of a way to explain past the insistent throb in her head.

Smack went the wheels against the tarmac and Claudia rocked back in her seat.
Oh, God. Think, Claudia, think.

The wings kicked up, the jet slowed and horror stung the back of her retinas at the sight before her. ‘Oh, no.’ She gripped his arm tighter, her fingertips digging through dense muscle. Hordes. What looked like thousands of flesh-eaters, hauling huge great cameras. Ready to pounce. ‘No photographs.’

Lucas glanced at the pack, seemingly unaffected. While she felt wild, miserable, attacked.

‘I can’t do this. I’m sorry. Truly. Blame everything on me. Tell them I’m selfish and unreasonable and you tried everything.’

Cupping her face, Lucas looked into her eyes. ‘Calm yourself. A car will pull up at the bottom of the steps. Let them see the beautiful Princess has returned home. Hold your head high.’

‘No. They’ll follow us...’ She blinked at a flash. A memory. A noose wrapped around her heart tugged, choking the life out of her. How had she forgotten about that? ‘Like before...’ The car. The plink and flash of cameras. Her mother. The screaming. ‘I think I’m going to throw up.’

His expression grew dark and as taut as the fingers cradling her face. ‘Before?’

Throat burning, she gave a little shake of her head. Unwilling, unable to go back, revisit.

After a few beats he sighed. ‘They cannot pass the enclosure. We will not be followed.’ His voice turned fierce, indomitable. ‘I promise you. I am here. You are safe. I will not let anything happen to you.’

Claudia closed her eyes. God, she wanted his lips on hers. He made her forget everything. Lucas made her feel safe.

Her eyes snapped open. ‘And what happens when you drop me off at the palace and leave me there?’

Hands sliding from her cheeks, his gaze drifted to some place over her right shoulder. So strange that he was still right in front of her and yet it was as if he’d physically left. Leaving a numb sensation climbing up her spine. Because wasn’t that always the way?

‘You will have the best guards,’ he said, his powerful voice blazing with conviction, an oath written in blood. ‘I swear it.’

Everything inside her rebelled. ‘No. I want you. Only you.
You
brought me here.’ And he could damn well stick with her.

Reticence engulfed him, sharpening the air. ‘Very well,’ he said, his hand fisting against the tabletop as if the very idea was anathema to him. ‘I will be in charge of your full security.’ His gaze flicked back to hers. ‘Yes?’

She slouched back into her seat. ‘Yes. Okay. I’ll stay with you.’

‘What?’
he said, his thunderous voice caroming around the cabin.

‘That’s the deal. Surely you have a house...a spare room?’

‘You cannot be serious!’

‘Deadly,’ she said, switching off her pride button—a surprisingly easy feat when she considered the alternative. ‘You take me with you or you turn this plane around.’

‘
Dios,
Claudia, it is not appropriate. Have you lost your mind?’ he asked, incredulity contorting his features as if he was staring at a scary mad person.

It was a look that made her falter.
Was
she crazy? To ask for shelter under his roof. Yearning for his touch the way she did?

But after four hours cooped up on a plane she’d had time to put their kiss to rest. Clearly Lucas wasn’t interested, and in three weeks she would have her life back. That was all she wanted. Her freedom. Until then she needed to feel safe. And, without knowing how or why, she trusted him with her life.

‘We’ve just spent the last two days together,’ she said. ‘Was that appropriate?’

‘
Sí.
We were in a different country. And your father expects you at the palace.’

‘Just tell him I’m awkward and selfish and I need a little time. Nothing but the truth. Right?’

‘Right.’

His eyes plummeted to her mouth and she watched them ignite, flare into a sapphire blaze. An answering heat unfurled deep down in her core even as she told herself he was simply vexed with her.

His words, the way he ground them out, confirmed her suspicions. ‘The answer is still no. What you ask is impossible.’

Claudia lurched as the jet came to a dead stop. Reeled at the sight of a world long forgotten. Glanced at the harsh Mediterranean sun bouncing off the asphalt. Grappled with her shirtsleeves, pulling at the soft silk, desperate to be covered. ‘What you asked of me yesterday morning was impossible in my mind, Lucas,’ she said, the pit of despair gaping wider. ‘Yet here I am. So, you see, nothing is impossible.’