Princess in the Iron Mask - By Victoria Parker Page 0,20

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.

Lucas clenched his stomach to stop the pain ripping his abdomen clean in half, reached for the plateau he visited in the dead of night and banished the memory.

Gritting his teeth, he focused on Claudia, curled his hand round her soft upper arm and gently tugged her onto her back. The sight of her stretching sinuously against the satin was one adrenaline shot to his groin too many. Cursing, he began to pop her coat buttons from top to bottom, peeling away the layers, trying his utmost to stay disconnected, yet unable to deny the tremor of his fingers.

Then, gracias a Dios, she murmured and began to stir, turning on her side.

‘Claudia? Wake up. I need you to take off your clothes.’

‘Okay,’ she murmured sleepily, as she rolled back on her side and buried her face in the palm of her hand.

‘No. No! Do not sleep. Not yet.’

That did it. She opened her eyes. Blinked. Stretched again. Writhed her centrefold body like the she-devil she was. Then bolted upright. ‘Where am I?’

‘In my hotel suite. You may sleep, but first you need to undress,’ he said, his already tentative hold on control fraying at the image of her undressing in front of him. For him.

Her face scrunching in a strangely pretty grimace, she twisted her legs, folding them underneath her. ‘Ugh, I feel horrid,’ she said, absorbing her surroundings, her eyes wide as they flew to his. ‘How did I get up here?’

‘I carried you. In slumber you bring new meaning to the adage sleeping like the dead.’

Cheeks pinkening, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her eyes riveted to his chest. ‘Oh, I know. Comes from sleeping in the noisiest places.’ At his quizzical glance she elaborated. ‘In a hospital full of children with paper-thin walls. Still, I’m surprised you managed it.’

‘Are you?’ Was it his imagination or did she fixate on his chest a little too long?

‘No, not really. You’re huge.’

Her voice was husky but he managed to put that down to thirst. The alternative was a treacherous road to travel down.

‘I’d bet good money you’re the only man on the planet who could manage it, though.’

Plenty of his men could—not that he’d ever allow it. The thought unearthed a foreign sensation in his guts. ‘You are far from heavy, Claudia. I have carried twice your weight on my back for days on end.’

‘Why on earth would you do that?’

Thuds began to pound at his temples. ‘Up,’ he ordered, amazed that he’d told her that. Frankly astounded that he’d divulged one iota of his past. Dios, he needed to get rid of her. ‘I’ve decided that we should return to Arunthia today.’

But she wasn’t listening. Something had occurred in her fierce brain. ‘Oh, of course. How silly of me. I saw it straight away too. You’re military. Or ex-military at least.’

She attempted to stand but fell straight back onto her rear. A curvaceous bottom now imprinted on his forearm—lush and firm.

A groan rumbled up his chest but he managed to stall it halfway up his windpipe.

‘And, by the way, you can forget leaving today. You promised me twenty-four hours, Mr Garcia.’

She stood then, unfolding to her full height: a phoenix rising from the flames.

‘I was under the impression I was dealing with a man of his word.’ Ouch.

‘I’m not leaving until tomorrow. I have business to attend to in London, tomorrow morning, and I’ll be there. Fire, flood or obnoxious control-freak notwithstanding.’

Lucas fumed from the inside out. ‘There is every chance we will be followed again.’ He’d make sure they were not, but he had no intention of making her feel comfortable. She should be concerned for her safety, dammit. She was in for a rude awakening back at home.

‘If we were followed. I’ll chance it.’

‘Still you continue to doubt my word.’ What could possibly be so important for her to even risk it?

She met his eyes, tore on her lip. And he knew. It must be a man. The thought struck a knife to his heart. Dragged him back into the darkness. Why did women do this to themselves? Jeopardise their life for a man?

‘You may be willing to chance it but I am not,’ he said, hard enough to ram the point into the next millennium. ‘You have ten