Princess in the Iron Mask Read online

  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 w
ill 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.’

  From the corner of her eye she watched him flex his neck, his wide chest heave.

  ‘We cannot always have what we desire, Claudia,’ he bit out.

  ‘Fine.’ She pinned her spine to the seat and pulled the cord on her belt to cinch the black strap nice and tight. ‘Refuel and take me home. Your mission is unaccomplished. Because I’m not getting off this plane.’

  He raked his hands through his gorgeous sable hair and the silence stretched to a thick oppression. One she couldn’t seem to breathe through.

  One of the male flight attendants swerved towards them and Lucas hollered, ‘Go the hell away.’ So loud Claudia flinched.

  Waiting until the attendant had darted towards the cockpit and disappeared from sight, she turned back to Lucas. ‘Are you angry with me?’ Stupid question when she was hyper-aware of the dark power emanating from his body, pulsing through the air, humming over her skin. Perversely, she’d never felt so protected in her entire life.

  ‘Goddamn furious. You play a dangerous game with me, Claudia. I make the rules. Comprende?’

  Oh, she understood perfectly. ‘So tell me the new rules and I’ll obey. Every single one.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘WOW. BEING HEAD OF SECURITY must pay well.’

  With the exception of Marianne, his housekeeper, Lucas had never had a woman in his home before. Now he knew why. It was a complete invasion of privacy and entirely too distracting. He’d rather camp with twenty men than one of Claudia.

  ‘Glass. Everywhere. I suddenly feel like a goldfish swimming around an enormous bowl,’ she said, with a quick tug on the sleeves of her jacket.

  Ah, yes, Lucas mused, his mouth twisting. She preferred walls of steel to match the walls she’d built up inside herself. At first he’d thought the vulnerability was her cloak. He’d been wrong. It was her inner core. Everything was designed to fight off intruders like some high-tech alarm system. Together with her high intellect, it was unsurprising no one had managed to breach it.

  Standing in the centre of the hundred-foot open-plan living area, he watched her absorb his life, the pit of his stomach weighted with lead. This was a mistake. He knew it. He didn’t want her here. Didn’t want any woman here. Especially not her. But what choice did he have? Dragging her to the palace would have been more barbaric than even he was capable of. And the panic, the terror, the vulnerability in her eyes—Dios, it got to him every time. At least here she was safe. From what haunting demons he had no idea. But he intended to find out.

  ‘The view is the most spectacular I’ve ever seen,’ she said, awe lending her voice a creamy note. She moved up close to the wide plate glass, looking towards the ocean, and sunlight gilded her in an angelic aura. He knew then she’d been in the dark too long.

  She trailed her fingers along the polished black top of his baby grand and he could feel those very tips branding his skin, setting his blood on fire.

  ‘I’m not sure what I expected,’ she said, slowing to examine an original masterpiece taking centre stage on one of the few internal walls. ‘Beautiful brush strokes. I’m sure the National Gallery has one of these.’

  With a tilt of her head she bestowed upon him her profile. The soft curve of her lip told him she knew all too well the value of the painting. But purchasing the portrait hadn’t been about money or investment or even the artist. It had everything to do with the subject.

  ‘What did you expect?’ he asked, unsure why he even cared for her opinion.

  Swivelling on her low heels to face him, she gave a small smile, lifted at one side in a kind of embarrassment. ‘Probably some Americanised version of a bachelor pad. Huge TV, empty pizza boxes and...’ Colour warmed her cheeks rose-gold.

  ‘And?’

  ‘I was going to say a stash of Playboy magazines, but for all I know you have a girlfriend.’ Biting her lip, she lifted one foot, bent her ankle and scratched her opposite calf with the black peeptoe. ‘Which, come to think of it, is something I should’ve asked before I ki—’

  Jumping in before the image engulfed him, he bit out, ‘I do not get involved with women, Claudia.’ He laid his commitment-free card face-up. For both their sakes. Lucas would not kiss her under this roof. Because if he did he would never stop.

  Claudia pursed her lips, canted her head. ‘At all?’

  ‘No. Like you, I live for my work. I have neither the time nor the inclination for relationships.’

  He had one-hour-stands with women who knew the rules. Claudia wouldn’t know what to do with a rulebook if it smacked her on the head—something that made him doubly wary of their current predicament.

  ‘Something else we have in common, then,’ she said.

  ‘I cannot think of any possible “something else”.’

  ‘You value your privacy. You don’t talk much about yourse
lf.’

  ‘It is not necessary in my job.’ He was being sharp—overly so. But he needed her to understand. Just because she’d managed to wrangle herself a bed under his roof it didn’t mean she could burrow into his life. And to stop her from doing just that, Lucas was determined to focus on hers. When she finally decamped he’d make damn sure she held her head high, without the need for any of her façades.

  ‘Our agreement was one week. Seven days and seven nights you may stay. Your father was quite willing to allow you time to acclimatise.’ The relief in Henri’s voice had said it all. She was on Arunthian soil and that was what mattered. Lucas’s secluded estate rivalled Fort Knox, so they would be free from prying eyes.

  No, the real problem was standing directly in front of him. One finger swirling around her pout, one hip tilted in that sexy pose that made his blood roar. Dios...

  Hoping she would retire and leave him with some measure of peace, he said, ‘First thing tomorrow we visit your parents, and during the remaining time I will reintroduce you to your country.’

  Eyes widening, her mouth worked. ‘Tomorrow?’

  ‘Sí. And then I will show you your real home.’ Once she became captivated by her heritage and discerned her true import the desire to do her duty would come, he was sure.

  If what she said was true and she was uncomfortable around people he needed to fix it. Otherwise, come the end of the week, they would be back to square one and there was no way she could stay here for three weeks. He would go grey. And insane. The sooner she was confident in her abilities the sooner she would be gone from his life.

  Gone. Ignoring the sharp blade driving through his gut, he forged on. He had to tear down her defences one by one, vanquish every fear. It was his job, he told himself, despite the claw at his conscience saying otherwise.

  ‘Firstly, do not concern yourself with the paparazzi or your personal safety. There was a time when Arunthia was plagued with villainy and the crime rate was high. Too high,’ he said, keeping his voice steady, betraying none of the emotion warring inside. ‘But not any more.’