Princess in the Iron Mask - By Victoria Parker Page 0,38
had saved him from the dark side. Given him the strength to move on, to fight. ‘Fear has no place in your heart right now.’
Eyes firing with the first spark of that spirit he craved, she said, ‘I’m not scared. I—’ Her brow creased as she bit her lip. ‘Maybe I am. A little. But you said so yourself. I look dour. I can’t be elegant like her. Like my sisters. It’s impossible.’
Lucas raised one brow and gave her The Look. ‘And where is the woman who told me only yesterday that nothing is impossible?’
Lips curving sweetly, sadly, she said, ‘I have no idea.’
‘Then let us find her.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE NEXT MORNING, Claudia feast her eyes upon the orange groves lining the driveway leading from Lucas’s estate to the open road and nestled closer to the car door, depressing the window button with the tip of her finger.
An intoxicating sweet scent drifted up her nose, filling her lungs until she never wanted to exhale.
‘I’d forgotten,’ she said. ‘The amazing smell of orange blossom.’
It seemed to cling to her senses, stir something deep inside her...something long forgotten. A surreal feeling of peace washed over her—a sensation that didn’t make any sense.
‘It is heavier during spring when the trees are in full bloom. More decadent, I think.’
Lucas’s deep masculine voice overwhelmed her and made her headier still, her pulse skipping.
Tilting her head to peek skyward through the large gap in the blackened window, she closed her eyes, basking in the morning sun, wondering about the kind of man who proclaimed he didn’t feel and yet used the word decadent. The same man who is sheltering you from the storm. But that, she told herself, was Lucas doing his job. Keeping her in Arunthia to fulfil her duty. A role which had once again kept her eyes wide through the night. But when the dawn had come so had her vow. If Lucas believed she could pull it off and play princess for the night she would give it her best shot. If only to prove to herself that she could. That she wasn’t shackled by the past.
Heavenly rays stroked through the clusters of fruit, the light speckling over her face. Shadows came and went, during which time she could just make out the tiny white flowers clinging to the bulbous dewy fruit.
‘Are they still Arunthia’s main export?’
‘Yes. Although as a country we are now richer from other timely investments. Mango, grapes, olives—that kind of thing.’ Leather creaked as he shifted on the seat beside her. ‘You are too hot, Claudia.’
‘I know,’ she said, tugging at the neckline of her long-sleeved tunic.
‘Close the window and the air-con will cool you.’
‘I need something cooler to wear.’
Black was no good in this horrid heat. And close proximity to Lucas didn’t help. If she hadn’t been distinctly uncomfortable in her own skin before she was now.
‘I have already made an appointment for you at the boutique in town.’
A moan slipped past her lips. Why, oh, why had she agreed to this? Come on, Claudia. We’re talking clothes, not strains of cholera.
‘Afterwards we will take a stroll. Today is market day, I believe.’
Another moan. ‘Don’t feel the need to ease me in gently, will you, Lucas? This isn’t one of your military operations. At least allow me time to feel comfortable in full regalia before a full inspection.’
‘Dream on, Claudia.’
Was he smiling? She didn’t dare look in case she melted.
‘The people will see you and you will dig deep for that inner radiance and that beautiful smile of yours.’
She blinked. The scenery shuttered in and out of view. That was the second time he’d put her name and the word beautiful into one sentence. Wait a minute... Inner radiance? Was he high? Unable to resist looking at him for a second longer, she twisted at the waist and braced herself for the habitual hormone overload. It didn’t work. Utter waste of energy.
Absorbing eighty percent of the oxygen and encompassing ninety-five percent of the space, Lucas was a modern-day gladiator. Leaning pensively on his wrist as he took particular interest in the opposite side of the road.
With a quick glance to check that the privacy glass between themselves and Armande was firmly in place, she snapped back to him, ‘I think you need your eyes tested, Lucas.’
Fist dropping to his lap, he turned and speared her with his don’t-mess-with-me look. ‘It is you who needs an eye-test, Claudia. Maybe then you would not wear reading glasses for long distance.’
She