Princess in the Iron Mask - By Victoria Parker Page 0,58
taken her parents’ side over hers. But in all fairness she’d known he would. He was all about duty—just as they were. It shouldn’t hurt. It should make her heart stronger. Harder.
Counting to three, she ordered her eyes to stay above his waistline and popped them open.
‘You’ve taught me plenty, Lucas. How to reach the heights of passion only to fall from grace. And I have to tell you it’s quite a drop. How easy it is to trust, open yourself wide, only to be rejected when you come up wanting. Have my confessions turned you cold? Because, honestly, it’s freezing in here.’
‘No.’
That was it? No. Did she believe him? He certainly didn’t have any reason to lie.
Arm lifting, he took another lazy swig of Scotch, his shadowed face haunted, and a pang resounded through her heart.
‘Talk to me, Lucas. Tell me what’s wrong.’
‘Go to bed.’ His tone was icy cold, the dismissal cruel.
Curling her fingers into protective fists, she forced her heels into the rug, while the overwhelming urge to go to him, brush the hair from his eyes and kiss away the pain, warred with the fear of rejection. If she could hold him, help him, he might fall asleep in her arms like the first time. How many times had she needed comfort and it had never been offered? Then maybe—just maybe—he would tell her, he would share.
Pushing her pride deep down, knowing he needed her, desperate to console him, she implored, ‘Will you come? Spend my last night with me?’
‘No.’
One word, loaded with pain.
She took a fortifying gulp of air. ‘I don’t understand why you’re being like this.’
The sound of glass clattering off oak, the slosh of liquid spilling, made her flinch. Not that Lucas seemed to notice.
‘Do you realise what I’ve done, Claudia?’ he said. ‘Taken an innocent when you were in my protection. I should never have touched you.’
Wait a minute...
‘No—no! For heaven’s sake, I asked you. I wanted to make love just once in my life. You’ve taken nothing from me, Lucas. I gave it freely.’
‘Pleasure does not come without a price, querida,’ he countered fiercely. Then his lips twisted, one dark brow raised into a cynical arch. ‘Make love, Claudia? Didn’t I tell you I just have sex.’
The way he said sex, as if it was dirty, something to be ashamed of, scored at her heart, sent flames of dismay up her throat. He regretted making love to her—having sex—whatever the hell he wanted to call it, and—oh, my God—she had to stiffen to stay upright through the pain in her stomach, which twisted tighter with every second he stared, as if he couldn’t bear the sight of her. One look that launched a thousand reasons to run. Leaving behind the main reason to stay. Ripping her clean in half.
* * *
He was in agony.
Lucas thrust his hands through his hair and tore his eyes from her while a dark torrent stormed through him, pulling, dragging him under. His chest heaved as he suffocated under the dense blanket of remorse.
Dios, he’d taken away her chance of marrying with honour. And that damn letter from her father, pouring out his gratitude to Lucas, had poured gasoline on the flames of his anger. In one night he’d dishonoured her and himself. Dios, if their affair ever became public knowledge...
Self-loathing sucked his throat dry.
His gaze landed on the original painting for the tenth time. The memories like a drum-beat, loud and disturbing, warning him to back away, turn her against him, make her leave.
‘Who is she, Lucas? You know her. I can see it in your face when you look at her.’
‘I do not know her,’ he said, his throat thick as he stared at the past. Failure. His mistake. One he would never repeat. ‘She reminds me of someone. That is all.’
‘Someone you lost?’
He tried to swallow around the grenade lodged in his throat but it was damn impossible. ‘Go to bed, Claudia.’
‘Talk to me, Lucas,’ she begged, taking a step towards him. ‘Please.’
Fire and fury bubbled up inside him—a volcano erupting. ‘Go to bed,’ he repeated louder, far harder than she deserved, which made him feel even more of a bastard.
But, Madre de Dios, he was unsure how much more he could take. Standing before him, she was so damn exquisite. Her eyes full of undeserved empathy.
‘Why are you pushing me away?’
His tenuous hold snapped. ‘Because I do not want you here. Comprende?’
As long as he lived Lucas would never forget the look