Princess in the Iron Mask (20 page)

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Authors: Victoria Parker

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance

BOOK: Princess in the Iron Mask
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Dios,
he’d had it with this senseless woman.

Snap went his resolve, his strength. One step forward and he reached out...and every muscle in his arms, every vein in his body, froze as her lashes fluttered closed and she shook her head.

‘I should go back inside,’ she murmured. ‘Thank you for everything.’

His head jerked. Thank you? For what...?
The sex
? Was
that
why she’d wanted him to come to London...for more
sex?
Something told him he’d slipped into the irrationality danger zone here, but
Madre de Dios—thank you?
As if she could just walk away and forget.

Like hell she would.

Ignoring the pop of her eyes, Lucas dug his hand into the hair at her nape, yanked her head back and flung his mouth against hers. He muffled her shock with his lips and kissed her irrational mouth while a noxious tangle of emotions knotted his guts. Plundering her mouth with his tongue, he curved his hands around the delicate span of her waist and crushed her against him.

A fist of anxiety clenched his heart when she stiffened...but then she wrapped her arms about his shoulders, thrust her fingers in his hair and tugged, giving as good as she got. The flush of relief turned to liquid fire as she blazed in his arms.

The crackle and hum of static energy surged between their bodies, bouncing from one point of contact to the other.
Dios,
they created enough electricity to power the eastern grid. He couldn’t let her go. He needed...

A flash lit the sky. Then another. A slam. A door? Fireworks?

A gasp rent the air. Not his. Not hers.

Lips froze, still close, and Lucas could taste her panting breath as it whispered across his tongue.

Thuds hit his temples as reality cracked through his skull, his entire body vibrating with the force of it.

Hands falling from her pale, horrified face, Lucas took a step back, closed his eyes. No, no,
no!
Dios,
her reputation would be in tatters.

Plink. Plink. One light after another lit the sky. Cameras.
Dios,
she hated cameras. She would run, he knew. Hide.

Hands fisting into a violent clench, his eyes flew open. And locked onto her amber fire.

Still here. Still standing tall. Regal. Brave. Courageous. After everything she’d been through he could not,
would not
walk away from her now.

* * *

Dark waves of fury poured from his rigid shoulders while an earthquake shook the paving beneath her feet.

Oh, God,
why had she kissed him back? She was supposed to be staying away from him!

Her mother’s voice came to her.
Think of your reputation...his work.
And
the cold night began to seep through her skin, burrow into her stomach.

‘Tell me this isn’t happening,’ she whispered.

‘Consequences,’ he said, his voice dark, fierce, harder than ever before. ‘Now we face them.’

‘Oh, Lucas, I’m so sorry.’

His words screamed in her head.
Your selfishness is astounding.
In all the years she’d loathed her own reflection she’d never envisaged disliking the person she was inside. Had she once given thought to the impact on Lucas should they ever be found out? No. She’d just wanted him. So desperately. Unseeing of the consequences.

Swarms of black locusts poured onto the patio—one brawny security man for every ravenous tabloid fiend.

‘Tell me now,’ he said, his eyes swirling with a turbulent storm. ‘What do you want, Claudia?’

She wanted to fix it. Put everything right. Make good on the destruction she’d caused. The alternative didn’t bear thinking about. But she
did
think about it. Because her brain wouldn’t switch off. Would Lucas the Honourable propose? Be trapped
by her
for eternity? Or, worse still, would her father discharge him? Strip him of his honour?

Never.

Claudia could fix this. Make sure he kept his job. His life. Everything that made him the man he was. The man she loved. And she knew exactly how to do it.

‘I will fight for you,’ he avowed. ‘Tell me what you want.’

Her throat stung. Still he would fight for her. Her brave knight. But even knights answered to their king.

‘To be free. To go home. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.’
Until you. Only you. God,
her heart was breaking.

His jaw hard, the shutters slammed down over his face. ‘Very well.’

He took a step back and beckoned to Armande with a flick of his fingers, told him to corral all the reporters out front for Lucas to deal with.

Claudia inhaled his scent one last time as she snuck around him, raised her chin and strode towards her father.

She ignored the disappointment weighing heavy in his eyes. She’d make him happy soon enough.

‘Can I speak with you, Father?’

‘My office. Twenty minutes.’

* * *

Claudia spent the longest, most agonising twenty minutes of her life pacing the living room in the private quarters of the Palace. The silvery moon cast eerie shadows over the oppressive grandeur, making her shiver. But this way,
sans
artificial light, she could keep one eye on the grandfather clock and sneak a peek at Lucas out front, his huge body looming over a member of the paparazzi.

Thankfully they’d only had a small audience on the terrace but...God, the look on his face as they’d parted ways. She would never forget it. Fierce, yet strangely bleak. He must hate her for placing him in this position.

A loud gong echoed off the oak-panelled walls like a death-knell and she stiffened her backbone, swept through the room, down the cavernous hallway to her father’s office. Palm flat, she pushed through the door, turned, closed it with a soft click and spun around to face him—sitting behind his wide desk in a high-backed brown leather chair, focusing his flinty gaze on her face.

‘Claudine.’

‘Father.’ She strode towards his desk to stand opposite him and lifted her chin. ‘I have a proposition for you.’ Even as she hoped to reach a compromise—something she should have considered well before now—she realised that on the back of ruining the Anniversary Ball her timing sucked.

‘Let’s hear it,’ he said, barely suppressed temper firing his cheeks.

She kept her cool. Reached for her mask. Because she’d never needed it more.

‘I apologise for any embarrassment I’ve caused you tonight. Truly. But the fault is mine and I’m quite willing to make it up to you.’ Her voice almost cracked on the last, and she bit her inner cheek to stop from crying out, pleading with him.

‘Unless you are willing to come home for good, I do
not
want to hear it.’

She tried to swallow but it was impossible. So much for compromise.

How right Lucas had been.
You cannot change who you are, Princesa.
And hadn’t she suspected all along that the moment she stepped foot on Arunthian soil her freedom would be lost?

Brittle was surely the only word to describe her smile. ‘All right, Father. I’ll come home.’

His clipped grey brows hiked just a touch. ‘You will give up your work?’ he said, still disbelieving.

The lump in her chest caught fire and tore up her throat. Years of research...the children she’d left behind...Bailey.
Forgive me. I’ll make it up to you. I swear it.
‘Yes.’

She would never have believed it possible of her autocratic father, but his head actually jerked. Strange how that small reaction pleased her—until she beheld the gleam in his eyes.

‘Will you marry Carone?’

Whack—
the first crack in her armour ripped through her stomach and she stiffened to prevent the flinch. She should have known there was some reason he’d been throwing Carone at her. She couldn’t contemplate what such an allegiance would involve or she’d throw up on her father’s pristine desk. Didn’t royals marry for love these days? Then again, what did it matter when she couldn’t have the man she loved? And if she lived elsewhere she wouldn’t have to see him every day. She could forget.
Impossible.

The effort to stand tall while her heart was bleeding made her legs throb. ‘Yes,’ she said, proud of the steel in her voice. ‘As long as you do something for me.’

That cool, flinty gaze narrowed imperceptibly. ‘I am intrigued to know what would make you give up so much, Claudine.’

‘Lucas gets to keep his job, his honour, and to do his duty for Arunthia. You need him, Father, I know you do. And he...he needs it too.’ She wondered then if the virtual stranger before her could hear the love in her voice. So she licked her dry lips and focused on the aspect that would carry more weight with this ruler of a nation. ‘The people love him. He’s their hero.’
And mine too.

Her father nodded slowly, his bushy brows low over his eyes. ‘I see.’

The stern lines of his face softened, to make him appear younger somehow. She blinked hard, wondering if the transformation was a mirage.

‘Does Lucas know how you feel about him?’

A breath she’d had no idea she was holding whooshed out of her and her head bowed—her mask slipping to shatter upon the floor. ‘God, I hope not.’

‘Too. Late.’

Slam
went her hand to her heart as those two little words delivered in that deadly fierce voice echoed around the room.

Slowly she turned.
Oh, no.
‘Lucas.’

Sprawling insolently, he encompassed one huge black wing chair, the tie of his tux loose around his neck, one devilish dark brow raised. And she’d swear she could hear his molars crack.

‘Big mistake,
querida.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

H
AVING
JUST
SPENT
the last forty minutes in the depths of hell, Lucas wasn’t feeling so good.

‘Excuse us, Henri.’

‘Of course, my friend.’ He heard the smile in Henri’s voice, ignored it. God only knew what the man was thinking after Lucas had played every strategic manoeuvre to get Claudia back to bloody London!

Dios,
he was going to make her pay.

Wide-eyed, still shaking like a blade of grass on a breeze, Claudia stood, her gaze flicking from Lucas to her father, back to Lucas.

Still she was unsure who held the power—over him, over her. He had no idea what had happened to make her doubt his dominant strength, but soon she would remember Lucas was his own man with his own damn rules. A fact Henri had always accepted.

‘We leave. Now,’ he said. Toxic nausea churned inside him, poisoning his voice.

Palm flat to the base of her spine, he gave her a deft push out through the door, down the hallway to the front of the private wing, farther still into the night.

‘You’re angry with me?’ she asked, her voice small, quivery, as she lifted the skirts of her dress and negotiated the stone steps.

‘Of course not. Whatever made you think such a thing?’ He jabbed at the open door, being held open by Armande, his voice petrifying the wildlife. ‘Get in the damn car.’

Armande bowed his head shortly before they both slid into the stifling interior.

‘It must have been Armande,’ she murmured, plastering herself against the opposite end of the cream leather bench and nipping her plump bottom lip.

Dios,
more enclosed spaces! He rammed his fingers down the inside of his shirt and tore another button free as the car meandered down the tree-lined incline.

‘I thought it was you with the reporters outside.’

‘Clearly.’ Although he’d never been more grateful for
not
being somewhere in his entire life. To think she might have left!

He scrubbed his hands over his face, his hair. Checked the privacy screen. Unable to wait a second longer to vent all over her.

‘I asked you on the terrace,’ he said, hearing the dark blend of incredulity and anger in his own voice, ‘what you wanted. That was a
very
simple question, Claudia!’

She winced, reached up, rubbed her brow. ‘I know you did.’

‘And what did you say to me? That you wanted to be
free!
’ He balled his fists on his thighs as his volume soared. ‘Yet now you will marry that sleaze
Carone?

‘Well, I—’


Dios,
Claudia, I had a goddamn coronary right there in the room!’ He laid a hand on his chest to check his heart was still there. Still beating. Like a pneumatic drill.

‘You did?’ she asked, turning to look at him, her brow pinched. ‘Well, I was just trying to think of a way to fix things.’

‘Do me a favour,
querida?
Do not over-think. It scares the hell out of me.’ He could barely breathe just thinking about it. The way she had stood there—so calm, a stranger to him—telling Henri she would marry that tiny fool
before
she’d bothered to stipulate why. Drawing out his pain as if he was lying on some medieval rack in the dungeon.

And then there she was, his little warrior, no longer fighting for herself but fighting for him. And,
Dios,
still he could barely breathe.

Pursing her lips, she crossed her arms tight over her chest. Her lush breasts eased out of the ruched bands of her bodice and he had to tear his eyes away before he hauled her into his lap. Three minutes and they would be home. Surely he could wait that long?

Yet he could feel her skin start to bristle. She was thinking again.
Damn.

‘You both sat there, no doubt having sealed my fate, and let me say all that stuff!’

What was she? Embarrassed? ‘Let me assure you there was no pleasure to be gained.’ From the first part at least. And he would have made his presence known if her words had not struck him dumb.

‘And how is it going to look now?’ she said, her fiery temper bubbling to the surface. ‘There were still some reporters milling around back there.’

Lucas snapped. ‘To hell with the paparazzi! I do not care for other men’s opinions. And you’d better get used to the attention,
querida.
I imagine once news of our engagement hits your face will cover every rag in the western hemisphere!’

Her small hand curled around the base of her throat. ‘
Engagement?
Oh, God, I should’ve known. What did he say? What have you done?’

He had done nothing bar fight for her freedom! But he wasn’t done with punishing her yet.

‘Did I not tell you that
I
make the rules, Claudia? And I assure you, your fate was sealed well before tonight,
cariña.
’ Although, to be fair, for an intelligent man it had taken him a while.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Lucas rocked forward as the car pulled to a stop and within twenty seconds he had her ensconced in the house. His house. Their house. Their living room.

Claudia stood in the middle of the floor, feet shifting, watching him warily. ‘All my things are at the palace.’

‘I will send for them tomorrow,’ he said, tearing his jacket from his torso. ‘You will stay here. With me. Always.’

‘Lucas will you stop this? I haven’t agreed to anything and I refuse to trap you!’

Grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, he ripped it from his body. Buttons pinged off every surface as he tore it off, tossed it to the floor. Then he swung back to face her, pointed at the gold sheath. ‘Take it off.’

Her lips parted on an indrawn breath and she flushed crimson from head to foot. ‘The
dress?
Why?’

‘Because
his
fingerprints are all over it,’ he ground out. ‘And because I have just been through the worst forty minutes of my adult life and I need to
hold
you!’

‘Oh.’ Pursing her lips, she reached for the zip at her side and slowly pulled the metal pin down, inch by excruciating inch. His pulse spiked as the contaminated gold satin slinked from her luscious curves to pool on the floor at her feet, leaving her standing in...

‘Madre de Dios.’

‘You recognise it?’ she asked, voice husky, sexy as hell.

Tight ivory cinched her small waist, widened at her full spilling breasts. Lace-top silk stockings and crystal-studded gold heels completed the evocative feast.

Lucas scrubbed his palm over his heart. Just to check again. ‘The lingerie boutique. In town.’

‘Ah. So I
did
have your full attention?’

‘Always,
querida,
’ he said, shucking off his trousers and shoes until he stood in snug black hipsters, never taking his eyes from those glorious centrefold curves. Curves he now gripped at the waist and hauled to straddle him as he plunged to the sofa.

Wrapping his arms around her, he buried his face in the soft skin at her neck and inhaled, over and over, rubbing his lips against her delicate collarbone, trying to pull her tighter into him.

She made that erotic purring noise that drove him
loco.

‘Agony,’ she whispered. ‘At least we’re good at this, I suppose.’

‘Stop it. You are thinking again.’

‘Can’t help it.’

‘I know,’ he said, pulling back to kiss the curve of her neck, the sexy dip behind her ear. ‘That brain of yours was one of the first things that hit me.
Dios,
one look at you and it was like crashing headlong into a solid brick wall. Then every touch was like flirting with a minefield. Every look was a bullet between my eyes. And when you spoke those words tonight...’

He loosened his hold, just enough to sit back, cup her face and sink into her amber fire. ‘So brave. My beautiful brave Princesa. I have never felt more proud or more love for you.’

Her long black sooty lashes fluttered while her delicate jaw went slack.
‘Really?’

‘Claudia, Claudia. The night I took you I made a choice. I chose
you.
Not duty, not Arunthia. You. I knew then,
cariña.
One taste and I would lose it all. I knew then I would resign. And I would do it all over again in a heartbeat just to hold you.’

Moisture pooled in her eyes and his stomach twisted as one dewy droplet trickled down her face and slid over his thumb.

‘You resigned?’ she said in a teary whisper.


Sí.
I resigned this morning. I would’ve done so days ago, but I couldn’t leave you long enough. Tonight was my final duty.’

‘But you said...you told me there could never be anything more. I thought you would never open your heart to me.’

‘It took me a while to realise you were already there. I could not get my head around deserving you. So long I have lived with the guilt. But then you told me you were proud of the man I have become. And if
you
thought I was worthy who was I to argue?’ He shrugged, tried to make it lazy, still not entirely convinced, but...

‘Guilt? I wanted to die when I realised I’d cost you everything. Have you ever thought for one moment that I don’t deserve you?’

‘No,’ he said fiercely. ‘And do not let me hear you say such a thing again.’

‘Yes, Lucas,’ she said, a mocking smile teasing her lips.

He growled. ‘It scared the hell out of me that I might fail to protect you. But then I thought how could I possibly trust anyone else? It is impossible. Only me.’

‘Only you.’ She trailed her fingertips down the side of his face and he nuzzled into her touch. ‘Although maybe if you eased off a bit...? I can paddle in the sea without disaster striking.’

He growled again—deeper, harder. That was the only answer she was getting right now. The roll of her eyes told him she knew it.

‘But still I held out,’ he said. ‘Until I heard the words you spoke to your father. Filled with such bravery. And there was I—a warrior shielding my heart, without the courage to love you. After everything you’ve been through you stood there, my little warrior, and gave up your work and your freedom for me. I was humbled by you,
querida.

She reached up, softly brushed his hair from his temple. ‘I’d do anything for you. I love you so much.’

Lucas closed his eyes. That was it. She’d said it. She was his. Always.

* * *

Claudia nestled impossibly closer, peppering kisses all over his gorgeous face. He’d chosen her and it was as if the Philharmonic Orchestra was playing in her soul, making her blood sing, her body hum in ecstasy—alive, so vibrantly alive.

And because she knew he needed to hear it Claudia said the words, over and over, as she kissed his warm lips. ‘I love you, Lucas, only you.’ She added that last bit because the insane man was jealous beyond belief and, knowing he felt every emotion ten-fold, he must be in serious torment.

His hands slipped from her face and he began to pull the pins from her hair. ‘I want it down around your shoulders. Over me. And,
Dios,
I’ll have to leave you and go back to your father in the morning. It is a question of honour.’

‘Wait a minute... You mean you didn’t ask him already? Well, what on earth were you talking about in there?’

‘Getting you back to London,’ he ground out. ‘Like you asked!’

‘Oh.’ An inappropriate laugh burst past her lips. God, they made a sorry pair. Mind you, she couldn’t regret a minute—not whilst in the midst of this heavenly pay-off. ‘So why are we getting married?’ It was obvious, but she couldn’t resist.

‘Because I damn well say so!’

Oh, he was so fantastically fierce. She had a huge grin on her face, she knew. ‘You love me?’


Sí.
Desperately.’

‘We’re going to get married?’


Sí.
I can wait one week for you to arrange something.’

‘One
week?

‘Only one. My heart cannot take any more.’ Her hair tumbled down around her shoulders and he groaned, thick and low. ‘I will take you to visit Bailey and build you a new place for your work here. The best in the world.’

Claudia flung her arms around his neck, sank her fingers into his hair and breathed him in while her brain tripped. What else did she want? She was on a roll. She could have every little thing she’d secretly dreamed of.

She sprang back. ‘Can we have a baby too?’

His throat convulsed. He went pale. Claudia’s heart pinched, but she told herself not to be disappointed—it was only one little dream. She could push it back down.

‘I never thought I deserved such a thing,’ he said, wearing that haunted look that made her heart weep for him.

‘Oh, Lucas, you deserve everything—and I’ll spend my whole life proving it to you.’

One corner of his sexy mouth quirked. ‘I want a baby girl with amber eyes and honey-gold skin.’

Typical, then, that she wanted a boy with rich sapphire blues. ‘I don’t think nature is going to listen to your rules, my darling.’

‘Of course it will.’

She laughed. ‘God, I love you.’

His hot gaze dropped to her chest. ‘I love this thing you are wearing, but I want it off.’

‘Pull the ribbons here,’ she said, running her fingertip provocatively from the dip at the base of her throat to her cleavage, to rest on a line of tiny bows trailing down the front.

One after another he pulled the ties free—colour slashing his cheekbones as he unwrapped her. And if she’d thought he was hard beneath her already she’d been oh-so-very-wrong.

‘Did you hear what I said about my dreams that day?’ she asked, breathy as she undulated against him. Heat flooded her core, soaking her skimpy panties.

A husky groan poured from his mouth. ‘I would not have a heard a freight train rolling through town,
cariña.
I was too busy imagining you in this sinful contraption.’ The tight material gave way under the weight of her breasts, parting. ‘My imagination was scarily accurate.
Dios,
Claudia, I need to be inside you.’

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