Princess in the Iron Mask

chapter EIGHT



THE NEXT MORNING, Claudia feast her eyes upon the orange groves lining the driveway leading from Lucas’s estate to the open road and nestled closer to the car door, depressing the window button with the tip of her finger.

An intoxicating sweet scent drifted up her nose, filling her lungs until she never wanted to exhale.

‘I’d forgotten,’ she said. ‘The amazing smell of orange blossom.’

It seemed to cling to her senses, stir something deep inside her...something long forgotten. A surreal feeling of peace washed over her—a sensation that didn’t make any sense.

‘It is heavier during spring when the trees are in full bloom. More decadent, I think.’

Lucas’s deep masculine voice overwhelmed her and made her headier still, her pulse skipping.

Tilting her head to peek skyward through the large gap in the blackened window, she closed her eyes, basking in the morning sun, wondering about the kind of man who proclaimed he didn’t feel and yet used the word decadent. The same man who is sheltering you from the storm. But that, she told herself, was Lucas doing his job. Keeping her in Arunthia to fulfil her duty. A role which had once again kept her eyes wide through the night. But when the dawn had come so had her vow. If Lucas believed she could pull it off and play princess for the night she would give it her best shot. If only to prove to herself that she could. That she wasn’t shackled by the past.

Heavenly rays stroked through the clusters of fruit, the light speckling over her face. Shadows came and went, during which time she could just make out the tiny white flowers clinging to the bulbous dewy fruit.

‘Are they still Arunthia’s main export?’

‘Yes. Although as a country we are now richer from other timely investments. Mango, grapes, olives—that kind of thing.’ Leather creaked as he shifted on the seat beside her. ‘You are too hot, Claudia.’

‘I know,’ she said, tugging at the neckline of her long-sleeved tunic.

‘Close the window and the air-con will cool you.’

‘I need something cooler to wear.’

Black was no good in this horrid heat. And close proximity to Lucas didn’t help. If she hadn’t been distinctly uncomfortable in her own skin before she was now.

‘I have already made an appointment for you at the boutique in town.’

A moan slipped past her lips. Why, oh, why had she agreed to this? Come on, Claudia. We’re talking clothes, not strains of cholera.

‘Afterwards we will take a stroll. Today is market day, I believe.’

Another moan. ‘Don’t feel the need to ease me in gently, will you, Lucas? This isn’t one of your military operations. At least allow me time to feel comfortable in full regalia before a full inspection.’

‘Dream on, Claudia.’

Was he smiling? She didn’t dare look in case she melted.

‘The people will see you and you will dig deep for that inner radiance and that beautiful smile of yours.’

She blinked. The scenery shuttered in and out of view. That was the second time he’d put her name and the word beautiful into one sentence. Wait a minute... Inner radiance? Was he high? Unable to resist looking at him for a second longer, she twisted at the waist and braced herself for the habitual hormone overload. It didn’t work. Utter waste of energy.

Absorbing eighty percent of the oxygen and encompassing ninety-five percent of the space, Lucas was a modern-day gladiator. Leaning pensively on his wrist as he took particular interest in the opposite side of the road.

With a quick glance to check that the privacy glass between themselves and Armande was firmly in place, she snapped back to him, ‘I think you need your eyes tested, Lucas.’

Fist dropping to his lap, he turned and speared her with his don’t-mess-with-me look. ‘It is you who needs an eye-test, Claudia. Maybe then you would not wear reading glasses for long distance.’

She gawped. Outright glared at him. ‘You’re beginning to scare me, do you know that?’

He smiled. The brute actually smiled. And—oh, boy—her stomach flipped, then fluttered as if filled with white blossom bobbing on a breeze. It was a lopsided sinful smile that was loaded with bad-boy charisma. Just a hint of straight pearly teeth and a dimple in one cheek. Licking her lips, she’d swear she could taste that gorgeous mouth of his.

‘A shield, in whatever form, only hides so much,’ he said, before shifting on his hip and reaching up to where her glasses sat visor-like atop her head. ‘You do not need them for visiting, for shopping, for the breathtaking scenery or as a hairband.’

His husky voice... The slide of his fingers, abrasive on her scalp...

‘Do not deny people the pleasure of seeing your amber fire.’

Amber fire?

‘How do you do it?’ she asked, a little breathless, a whole lot stunned. ‘You soak in every nuance. It’s really intimidating. Am I so easy to read?’

‘No. You have many layers and they are proving hard to strip away.’

Strip? She wished to God he’d strip her right now—or take off his own clothes. She wasn’t picky. Against all logic she wanted to touch him. With one kiss he’d given her a taste of undiluted desire and like a potent drug she craved another shot.

Thought vanished as he pulled her glasses free and the light scrape of his fingers brushed across her cheek. She focused on his eyes. Rich dark blue, hot and intense, pupils dilated.

Claudia held onto the moment and the past forty-eight hours disappeared. She could feel him surrounding her—hard and fiercely passionate. The seductive pull of his mouth. What would his mouth feel like on her neck? Her breasts? Her stomach? What would he feel like deep like inside her?

Something hot and sultry splashed through her midsection and she gripped the edge of the buttery leather seat with one hand and squeezed her thighs together. Oh, God, what was happening to her?

Lucas broke the connection and closed the arms of her glasses in on themselves. Bereft, Claudia watched him plop the frames into the cubbyhole lining the door, delve into the inside pocket of his suave black jacket and pull out a platinum-encased pen. Lowering his eyes to the small table in front of him, where a sheaf of papers lay, he began to scrawl his signature, his long fingers stroking the silver column.

Visions—vividly sensual and achingly explicit—poured into her mind. Where they came from she had no idea, but she couldn’t seem to stop them. Clenching her insides, she wriggled to ease the damp sensation between her legs and pulled at the small window button to douse the sweet bouquet of nature. Only to be ensnared in a whirlwind of musk-drenched pheromones.

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?