Princess in the Iron Mask (6 page)

Before he could say another word she bolted sideways. Only to be blocked by a one-arm barricade.

‘Over my dead body,’ he growled, corralling her back towards the car.

‘That could be arranged,’ she said, suddenly breathless.

Rain poured down her face, her throat, to trickle down the inside of her collar. That was why she shuddered so hard. It had nothing to do with the fact that Lucas was inching towards her with lethal intent.

‘You are coming with me. From now on I am in charge.’

‘Well, you can just rid yourself of
that
illusion. You’ll never be in charge of me!’

Suddenly her back connected with the car in a wet slap and she felt the engine thunder and roar with its need to unleash power. The vibration shot up her spine and then pinballed back down her vertebrae, surging for every extremity until she felt like a pulsing livewire.

‘You know what, Claudia?’

It was his hot, heavy tone more than his words that caught her attention, and she jerked up to catch the feral gleam in his eyes.

‘Wha...what?’

Water streamed down his brow, dripped off his nose and lingered on his darkening jaw as she hung on his every word. After swiping his face with deft hands he shook his head, like a dog shedding its bath, to send even more rain showering over her.

Hot and sultry liquid pooled in her abdomen and she pushed against the cool metal to stop herself from sliding into a heap at his feet. The awesome sight of him was distressing enough, but for some reason Claudia wished he were utterly naked. Well, not totally. Maybe just his top half. So she could take a peek.
Oh, God,
what was happening to her?

‘I am beginning to think I’ve handled you all wrong,’ he said, licking his lips hungrily. ‘I have been a negotiator,’ he said, holding up one finger. ‘Waste of time and effort.’

Her eyes were glued to his sensual mouth, mesmerised by the way his wet lips moved as he spoke. He had great teeth.

‘I have tried to appeal to your better nature,’ he continued, holding two fingers up. ‘However, I’m not at all sure you have one.’

‘Hey, that’s not fair—’

He silenced her with two warm fingers and her cool flesh sizzled on contact. It took every ounce of self-control to stop herself licking. Nibbling.

‘I have even tried kid gloves and allowing you to barter for extra time. And look where that has brought us. To a hovel in one of the scummiest areas I have ever had the displeasure to visit.’

Lucas dragged his fingers over her mouth, the pressure curling her bottom lip and tugging her eyelids shut. ‘This is a nice area. You’re just a snob,’ she breathed.

‘I should have hauled you out of that lab hours ago,’ he said, his volume lower, his tone silkier. ‘Straight onto a plane and straight home to Arunthia. This is what I get for being considerate.’

Oh, he
had
to be joking!

Her eyes flew open. He was staring at her mouth, following her tongue as it licked her lips over and over in basic instinct. The fresh taste of Mother Nature blended with bittersweet anticipation. ‘You’re an animal. A...a beast.’

‘You know what else,
Just Claudia?
I think there’s only one way to shut you up.’

Bracing his hands against the car on either side of her, he leaned forward, eyes glittering.

Oooh, my.
Her heart kicked into overdrive. Her blood fizzed through her veins. A strange bearing down in her abdomen forced her to clench her insides, the slight twitch making her core spasm with liquid fever.

Lucas’s body heat burned through her wet clothing and she trembled so violently that her words—‘You wouldn’t dare...’—came out more like a plea.

Hitching a dark, sexy brow, he murmured. ‘Ah, Claudia, didn’t anyone ever tell you never to provoke an animal?’

CHAPTER FOUR

A
NIMAL
.

The word assaulted his brain, fighting to break through the heady maelstrom of anger and high-octane sexual desire. Blinking rapidly, every shuttering of his eyes brought another aspect of their surroundings into sharper relief.

London. Unsafe. Protect.

They were soaked to the skin. Claudia’s grey Mac moulded to the swell of her full, high breasts with every shivery breath she took. Minuscule drops of rain beaded on her long lashes like black diamonds, and as her eyes fluttered the rare gems lost their precarious hold and trickled down her beautiful face.

She slowly opened her eyes and focused on his mouth. She rose on her toes and her breasts grazed up his chest. His groin hardened to titanium as the moisture sizzled on his skin.

Dios,
what was she doing? More to the point, what was
he
doing? She made him lose his mind, his self-control, and at this rate he would be
sans
all honour by Monday next.

Retreat, Garcia. Retreat. Now!

She stilled, flicked her big amber eyes up to his, and what he saw nearly shocked his heart into cardiac arrest. Fear. She was scared. Of
him.

Animal.

‘No.’
Never.

This
was his idea of protection? Crowding her against the side of a car in the sheeting rain?

‘Apologies, Your Royal Highness,’ he said, pushing off the car and taking three large paces back.

‘Don’t call me that,’ she whispered.

A deep V creased her brow as she searched his face, then took a keen interest in her feet. If it were anyone else he would think she was disappointed but,
Dios,
the fear.

He had to remember who she was, even if she didn’t quite grasp the fact. Why the hell was she living in this cesspool? For the sake of a twenty-minute taxi-ride to work? No, he doubted it. But now was not the time to cause further animosity. He needed her to listen and obey him. If she could just do as she was told for five minutes things would get a hell of a lot easier.

‘Claudia, get in the car. I need to get you dry. Away from this place.’

‘I don’t mind being wet. I love the rain. So pure and clean.’ Chin lifting, she tipped her face skyward. ‘I can’t remember the last time I did this.’

His eyes traced the graceful line of her throat and his heart thumped back to life. The abysmal weather had failed to diminish the colour of her lustrous gold-toned skin—her Arunthian heritage.

‘I am very glad,’ he murmured, his fingers howling to stroke her silken cheek. Claudia’s face plummeted back to his and he realised he must have spoken out loud.
Damn.
‘I do not think delivering you home with a bout of pneumonia would go in my favour.’

Her lips curved ruefully. ‘Of course.’ She stood tall, swiped her forehead with the back of her hand to brush tendrils of hair from her temple, and glanced up to the building behind him. ‘I can go and change, but I haven’t got anything for you, I’m afraid.’

The tense muscle in his shoulders eased as she inadvertently gave away her lack of live-in-lover status. Of course that didn’t mean she was single. And collating all the facts was his job, was it not?

‘My clothing is of no consequence.’ Compared to being caked in three months’ worth of dirt sweat and blood, a little water was exiguous. ‘Please—lead the way.’

She swung her gaze back to him, eyes wide. ‘I can manage perfectly well myself. Just give me five minutes—’

‘No. I will accompany you. You’ll need more than five minutes to pack. Then we’ll spend the night in the Thames apartment.’

Her eyes grew impossibly larger. ‘We can’t do that.’

‘Why not?’

‘Well...because it’s empty.’

He groaned, long and low, clenching his fists to stop himself from giving her a damn good shake. ‘And your post? Letters? They are forwarded...yes?’

She nibbled on her plump bottom lip. ‘No. Come to think of it, I haven’t picked them up for months. I’ve been so busy.’

Dios,
little wonder her father’s letters had gained no reply. But why warmth rushed through him at the realisation he had no idea.

‘No matter. I will extend my stay at the Astoria. We’ll stay there for the night.’

‘I don’t want to stay there.’ Tugging at her cuffs, she tossed her head in an aggravating lofty flounce. ‘I can just stay here.’

Head snapping upright, he gave her
The Look.
The look designed to command hundreds of soldiers and stop assassins in their tracks.

And what did she do? Rolled her amber eyes!

‘Fine,’ she said. ‘But for heaven’s sake don’t use that look on me again. It will never work.’ She caught a yawn in her small fist. ‘I’m just so tired I can barely think straight, let alone argue with you.’

She looked past tired, but he had no intention of taking the blame for her ferocious work ethic or any other night-time activities she indulged in.

‘This is progress indeed. Keys?’ he said, palm outstretched.

She dug into her pocket, rummaging. Out came a tissue, a pencil, a small notepad. All of which she stuffed in her free hand. ‘I know I picked them up. I
know
I did.’

Raking his hair back from his face, he took a moment to rein in his anxiety. And in that instant an arrow of ice speared up his nape and his head snapped upright.

Traffic weaved around his parked car—a black hatchback, a red coupe—and beyond, on the opposite side of the street, there was a small Italian restaurant, a run-down clothes store, a church. And, parked directly in front, a large white pick-up.

‘Get in the car.’

‘What?’ she said, delving into her other pocket.

‘Now!’

‘Do you have to be so impatient? I’m telling you the rotten key is in here somewhere.’

Lucas gripped her arm, ignored the pocket paraphernalia clattering to the pavement, marched her round the car, opened the door and pushed her inside.

‘Lucas, really,’ she said, poking her head out. ‘What is
wrong
with you?’

Palm flat on top of her head, he pressed her back into the car, slammed the door, ate the tarmac in five quick paces and folded his frame into the seat beside her. ‘Buckle up.’

‘No. I need to go inside,’ she said, exasperated, pointing at the red brick façade of her grotty flat. ‘I don’t have any—’

‘Claudia, I do not care what you want. We are being watched, and I need to get you out of here.’

‘Watched?’
she repeated, in a high-pitched squeak as her hand crept up her chest and wrapped around the base of her throat. ‘But that’s impossible. No one knows me.’

Yesterday that might have been true, but when the Arunthian King disclosed his intent to gather the royal family for the event of the decade things changed. Lucas had known that. Which was why he’d flown into a military base. Why he hadn’t ordered chauffeur-driven cars. When the King’s three daughters were dotted around the globe, and in particular when one had been missing for well over a decade, interest was ripe. Claudia was spoken of in hushed tones, and in all his years working for the King he’d never been told her exact whereabouts. Until now. He didn’t envy her the scrutiny she’d be placed under when they returned. Only the best guards would be selected to watch over her, and Lucas would ensure he chose men with eyes in the back of their heads—for she was nothing but reckless obstinacy.

His mind flitting through the options, he took one last glance at the white pick-up truck.

‘Unless...’ she said.

Lucas pulled out into the lane of traffic, feeling her eyes burning into the side of his face. He knew what was coming—could feel the initial flare of her wrath. Perversely, it began to stoke the fires he’d managed to douse.

‘Oh, my God,’ she said, elbows bent, fingers pressing into her temples like one of those telepaths harnessing their brain power. ‘You know what, Lucas? I’ve known of your existence for three hours and already my life has gone to the dogs. There’s only one reason for someone to take a sudden interest in me.
You’ve
blown my cover!’

Lucas slapped the indicator and gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles ached.
Dios,
how had this happened? For the first time in his career he’d failed to do his job. First by almost kissing her and second by putting her in jeopardy. Within five seconds of their meeting he’d lost control of his carnal appetites and his instincts were sloth-like. How long had the pick-up truck been standing there? While he, the Head of Security, had had her hard up against a car, ready to devour her mouth and anything else he could reach.

‘I cannot see how,’ he said, vexed as he attempted to find an explanation for this strange phenomenon. ‘Do you think me so inept I would announce my arrival in the country to the press?’

‘How do I know if you’re any good at your job? So far I’ve been blackmailed, shouted at and suffered a good soaking.’

Good point.

From the corner of his eye he watched her yank her glasses from atop her head and rub the lenses on her coat. Her sodden coat.

‘Great. Now I don’t even have a tissue because you—’ She took a deep breath and tossed the thick frames into the footwell. ‘Anyway, how do you know...?’ He heard her audible gulp. ‘That they were press.’

‘I only suspect,’ he said, knowing his hunch was enough. It always had been. Apart from that one time. When he’d lost everything. When he’d been ruled by emotion—something that would never,
ever
happen again. Emotion made you sloppy. Careless.

Lucas ignored the crucifying scratch of his conscience, warning him of the similarities to his current predicament. This was different.
This
was a dire case of sexual chemistry messing with his head.

‘Well, forgive me if I don’t share in your suspicions. You could be overreacting. There are hundreds of vans in London. Thousands, in fact. No one has ever given me a second glance.’

‘
Dios,
Claudia, that’s because no one knows who you are. You are hidden well in London and you purposely dress in camouflage.’

‘I don’t purposely dress in anything. I dress for comfort and my personal taste.’

He snorted, and was about to tell her that against all evidence to the contrary he was not a stupid man when he glanced in his rearview mirror.

‘Push your spine into the seat and look straight ahead. I need to lose my
suspicious overreaction
and take some swift turns.’

‘Oh, good grief. Could this day get any worse?’ she said, her fingers curling around the leather lip of the seat alongside her slender thighs.

Sí.
He could have kissed her.

And if that thought wasn’t bad enough, they lost the van within three minutes only to get snarled up in traffic—while Claudia caught yawn after yawn in her small fist.

‘You need sleep,’ he said, frowning at the dark smudges beneath her eyes. ‘You look ill.’

‘Why, thank you, Lucas,’ she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘Just what I wanted to hear.’

In his peripheral vision he watched her rub the outer flesh of her thighs for the third time and his foul mood ratcheted up a notch. Why did his brain insist on informing him of every damn move she made?

‘Next you’ll tell me we’re still being
followed.
’

Why didn’t she believe him? Never had his word been questioned. The knock to his honour gave his tone extra bite. ‘No. You may rest.’

Lucas determinedly switched off, focused on changing gear and lowering his pulse. Soon enough he pulled into the private rear entrance of the Astoria and watched daylight being eclipsed by the metal security doors until only a thin sliver remained. Extinguishing the engine, he glanced over at Claudia. Her head was cushioned by the soft leather padded wing, her eyes were closed, breathing steady and even. In peace, her beauty was breathtaking.

Eyes trailing down her body, his guts twisted at the sight of damp cloth sticking to her skin, outlining her lush curves.

‘Claudia?’ he said—loud enough to wake the dead. Otherwise he’d have no choice but to touch her, and while his body was willing and able his mind rejected the idea immediately.

The problem was, where Claudia was concerned his body seemed to rule. Why else would he be in this imbroglio in the first place? He should have her ensconced in the jet by now, halfway to Arunthia. Perfectly dry and unruffled.

Unfortunately it seemed his reluctant royal was dead to the world.

‘Dios.’
Lucas thrust open his door and launched himself to his feet, adrenaline pumping through his body and making him hard all over.

Barking orders to the security guard to clear his path, he scooped her into his arms and strode through the darkened corridors, ordering his body not to feel. Not to react.

Damn impossible when she curled into his arms, snuggled against his damp chest, laid her head on his broad shoulder and grabbed fistfuls of his white shirt. Heat shot down his spine, pooled in his groin, and by the time he reached the penthouse his heart was thumping a twenty-man stampede that had nothing to do with exertion.

The guard opened the door to the penthouse and Lucas marched to the enormous bed, laid her down and backed the
hell
away.

‘Sir? Do you need any further assistance?’

Lucas scrubbed his jaw. ‘Clothes. She needs something dry to sleep in.’ Why hadn’t he thought of this? What did women sleep in apart from their skin? Gorgeous honey-gold skin... His throat turned thick as molasses along with his blood, and against a direct order his eyes toppled back to the bed.

‘We have a concession downstairs, sir. I could ask one of the assistants to help?’

He nodded, heard the man exit the room with a decisive click and reached for his mobile phone. He was determined to find the man who’d followed them, and soon, but first...
Dios,
she was in serious danger of becoming ill.

Claudia was curling her long body into a foetal position on the gold coverlet, and he was smacked with that hint of vulnerability once more. His mind latched onto another woman at another time. Defenceless. Frail. Unprotected. By him.