Princess in the Iron Mask - By Victoria Parker Page 0,32

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