Princess in the Iron Mask - By Victoria Parker Page 0,37

mind yelled. Don’t do this, Lucas. Please don’t break your word to me. Not you.

Intense sapphire eyes bored into hers. ‘Come. It is time to leave.’

* * *

Lucas kept his stride short as they walked across the courtyard to the helipad. Not an easy feat for a man with extra-long legs, but he sensed Claudia was at the very edge of her limits. Even with her damn façade in place. Dios, his vision of a heart-warming reunion had just been exploded with a double-barrelled shotgun.

The sound of her feet scoring asphalt, as if she were about to trip in her haste, was a kick to his protective gut and he snagged Claudia’s arm, tugging her into a darkened corridor leading to the armoury.

‘Breathe, Claudia.’ Grasping her shoulders, he manoeuvred her to lean against the stone wall...then backed the hell away. Before he hauled her into his arms. The situation was already complex enough. But, Dios, she wanted him to. He knew from the way her eyes devoured his wide shoulders, his chest, even as she wrapped her own delicate hands around her body.

He clenched his fists so hard a spear of pain lanced up his forearms. ‘Why are you running?’

‘I’m not running anywhere,’ she said, still breathless. ‘We’re leaving...aren’t we?’

Lucas thrust his fingers through his hair. ‘Sí. After you calm down, speak to me.’

Closing her eyes, she gently banged her head on the stone wall—once, twice. ‘God, Lucas, what do you want from me. I came, didn’t I? Just like you wanted.’

‘No, just as your parents wanted.’ Yet there had been no embrace. No words of joy. Only duty. While he understood duty took priority over all else, pure empathy had torn through him as he’d watched her encounter such insouciance. After all she’d been through.

A humourless laugh slipped from her lips. ‘Oh, yes—except they want someone who doesn’t exist.’

Lucas frowned. ‘Explain this to me.’

‘I can’t be what they want,’ she said, her voice pitching with frustration. ‘Do I look like a princess of the realm to you? No. What if I embarrass them in front of the world? Make some pithy remark to the King of Salzerre? Look ridiculous in some frou-frou dress with no sleeves—?’

‘Look at me,’ he demanded.

When she did not obey he slid his fingers up her jaw, cupped her face and tilted it to look at him. He felt himself almost drowning in her amber eyes. Eyes that were now brimming with hurt.

‘No more excuses. You must believe in yourself. In what you are capable of. As I do.’

‘You...you do?’

‘Sí. Of course. Do you know what your people call you, Claudia? The Lost Princesa. How right they are—for still you are lost. When I saw Bailey I knew. You hide. You need to break free. Show them who you truly are inside. The rest will come.’

He could feel her pulse thrumming against the ball of his hand, her throat convulse.

‘Being back here—’ Her voice cracked on a whisper. ‘I’m twelve years old again. So sick. So cold.’

A giant fist punched him in the guts. ‘You have bad memories of being here.’ It made perfect sense, but there was more, he knew. Problem was, he was treading perilously close to quicksand. For her relationship with her parents, however awkward and frigid, was none of his business. Still, he was unwilling to watch her fall or unveil another damn façade.

‘You are sick no more, Claudia. While I am angry as hell that life has dealt you such a card, you have found your way. You have become an accomplished, intelligent woman in your own right. Be proud of this.’ With his thumbs he drew small circles on her soft cheeks, luring her in to believe him. Fighting the craving to kiss the sadness from her lips. ‘Be proud of your brave heart.’

‘I don’t feel brave,’ she whispered. ‘I feel lost. I know my role back home. I know my job. Here—I’m not one of them. I don’t know how to be.’

Lucas pulled back, his hands slipping from her face to rake around the back of his neck. ‘And do you think I did?’ he asked, aggravated by the tightness in his voice, yet determined to show her he understood. ‘I was not born to this world, Claudia. Far from it.’

Her lips parted on an indrawn breath. ‘But you’re perfectly at ease here.’

‘Sí. I too had to learn. And I found honour in doing so.’ He’d found more than honour. He’d found a way of life. One that