Princess in the Iron Mask - By Victoria Parker Page 0,40

a fool of herself.

Up went the glass partition, yet his searching eyes never left her face. Since she’d moved to grab him they were too close, but she couldn’t seem to let go—just luxuriated in the touch of fine wool and hot steel beneath. Colour scored his cheeks and she watched, mesmerised, as his throat convulsed, a muscle ticked his jaw.

‘Dios, I cannot continue travelling in these confined spaces with you. It is agony.’

There it was. It shouldn’t hurt. But it really, really did.

She snatched her hand away. ‘Agony. Right.’ While she was burning up, ready to spontaneously combust, he abhorred their close proximity.

Slamming the table upright with one hand, he shoved the papers in his briefcase with the other. Breath short, his chest began to heave, and his amazing blue eyes speared an arrow of heat straight to her core. ‘Dios, your brain is addled. And I am running out of ideas on how to convince you.’

‘Convince me of what?’

‘That you were not born to hide!’

‘Hide? You’re not making sense.’ And why was he always so angry with her?

‘Tell me, what do you feel like right now? In here?’ he said, punching his own rock-hard stomach. ‘Truthfully, Claudia,’ he growled in warning.

On fire. A tight fusion of energy cells clustered into a fiery ball—sparking, fighting to explode. As if she had the worst stomach ache on earth. Or was it the best stomach ache on earth? Regardless, if she moved one muscle and rubbed down there, where her knickers were so wet, she’d seriously...

‘Agony,’ she said, the word slipping out before she had a chance to stop it.

‘Sí. Agony. As do I.’

Her eyes slid to where the expensive weave of his suit pulled tight around his thick thighs and groin. He couldn’t possibly...

‘Oh,’ she said a little shakily as her insides grew heavier still.

Tucking one of his fingers under her chin, he raised her head until their eyes met. ‘You are clueless, Claudia. You think I could devour you like that and feel nothing?’

‘I just thought...maybe you kiss everyone like that.’

His chin dipped as his eyebrows shot skyward. ‘I appreciate your confidence in my abilities.’

‘And you pulled away. In fact you pushed me away!’

‘Sí,’ he said, ripping his finger from her chin so quickly her head bobbed. ‘For my own damn sanity and your honour. Before I took you against the wall.’

‘Oh? It was good, then?’ she asked, trying to quell the initial elation and excitement until she knew for sure.

Facing front, he thrust his fingers through his hair and clawed down his face. ‘And now I finally see what has been staring me in the face. Tell me, when you look in the mirror, what do you see?’

Shaking her head, she inched backwards. But given the space deprivation she didn’t make much progress.

‘Exactly,’ he said, turning back to face her. ‘You do not like what you see.’

She tore at her lip. Why was he persecuting her like this? In truth she couldn’t remember the last time she’d peered at her reflection—except for in the en-suite bedroom in Lucas’s penthouse. Because she loathed every flaw. Wondered if every slight shade variation on her skin was her imagination or a sign of something to come.

His eyes darkened to the colour of midnight. ‘Why? I ask myself. When you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.’

Stupefied, she parted her lips as a war erupted inside her—her mind tripping over disbelief, her heart squeezing at his earnest words. Because she knew he wouldn’t lie. ‘Oh...’

Lucas snorted. ‘Suddenly you have lost your internal dictionary. It seems I have found another way to shut you up. I shall remember this.’

‘I preferred the other way,’ she said, remembering the way he’d backed her up against the car outside her flat. She’d been right! He’d been going to kiss her. She wanted him to. Right. Now.

He laughed without a speck of humour. ‘Do not even think about it.’

‘Well, why not? If I want to and you want to... Couldn’t we just...?’ She wanted him to kiss her again so desperately she smothered her lips in moisture. Maybe if he touched her, put his hands on her breasts, they wouldn’t ache so much.

‘No. No. And do not look at me in that way!’

‘I’m not,’ she said, before his words registered. ‘What way?’

‘With those slumberous eyes and that sexy mouth. I—’ He groaned and flung himself back into the seat.

She had a sexy mouth? ‘So where’s the problem in that?’

‘The problem with that, Claudia, is that