Princess in the Iron Mask - By Victoria Parker Page 0,41

along with your beauty I see a woman who I am forbidden to touch—and no,’ he said, palm facing her in a stop sign, ‘I am not only talking about my position at the palace. I am talking about my life. My rules. Did you not listen to a word I said yesterday? I have sex. Pure and simple.’

‘Really?’ It sounded kind of exciting to her. She’d never done anything exciting in her whole life. If just the idea exploded some of those fiery cells inside her, imagine what thrilling ecstasy she would experience if they actually did it. Although she guessed excitement was the improper response, because Lucas had seemingly caught the stimulated pitch in her tone and grim contempt slashed across his face.

‘It is just sex, Claudia. Meaningless. A short diversion with women I do not know. Woman who comprehend that I will leave and never, ever come back.’

When he said it like that, so cold and detached, she felt a shiver swarm across the base of her spine. He left. But didn’t everyone? Of course they did. Except this time she would be leaving. After this trip she’d never see him again. She knew that. And surely the hollow pang she felt inside her at that thought was only because Lucas kept distracting her at breakfast.

‘Sí. Now you understand,’ he said, somewhat relieved.

Yes, clearly he used women. But surely they used him too? For pleasure? What was so wrong about that? Now she knew the attraction was reciprocated it was her chance to experiment with her body, explore all these new and fantastic sensations. When his lips touched hers she forgot everything. The past. What was to come. And, in truth, she wanted to experience being desired, wanted. Just once in her life. She’d never trust another man as long as she lived.

‘I am hard, unfeeling,’ he bit out. ‘I am not a man to become attached to. Comprende?’

Claudia began to wonder who exactly he was trying to convince here. She nodded. ‘I’m not deaf, Lucas, I understand perfectly.’

Good grief, the last thing she wanted was to become attached to the man. Apart from the fact he was emotionally void, he lived in a different country. She was going home in three weeks—back to her life, to London, to Bailey. And she might trust him with her life but she’d never trust him with her heart. Claudia knew the price of loving, of needing. Inevitable heartbreak.

‘Bueno,’ he said, giving her a searching look, not entirely convinced. ‘Good.’

‘You just have sex. You don’t get involved. You walk away,’ she said, warming more to the idea with every passing second even as her body was shaking itself apart with adrenaline. No emotions. The thrill of undiscovered excitement. One taste of passion: a memory to last her a lifetime. And, more importantly, Claudia would be the one to walk away. ‘And you find me b...beautiful, right?’

He blinked, worked his mouth round the word. ‘Yes.’

‘That’s okay, then. Because I just want sex too.’

A stunned light flashed in his intent stare. ‘Madre de Dios!’ he said, raising his hands as if praying to the heavens for patience.

‘I do.’

‘Sí? Well,’ he said, with caustic bite, ‘we both know that oftentimes your sense of self-preservation is severely lacking.’

‘But I—’

‘No, Claudia. No buts. It is impossible.’

The slash of his hand acted like a zipper across her lips.

Slumping back onto the leather seat, she fastened her eyes on the view. Watched the flashing images of small stucco homes as the car sped through the outskirts of town—everything a blur.

Maybe she hadn’t handled that so well. Obviously he thought she’d want more than he could give. So she had to convince Lucas that beyond this visit and her obligation to play princess for the night of the ball she was Just Claudia. And Just Claudia wanted exactly the same thing he did. No commitment. No messy entanglements. Just sex.

The question was: how did she convince him of that?

A blast of trepidation evaporated the moisture on her nape as she remembered who she was—gauche, fidgety and, to use one of Lucas’s words, clueless in the art of all things sexual.

Her stomach hit the leather with a disheartened thump.

Lucas’s women were no doubt the opposite of her in every way—glamorous spelk-like things who knew what they were about. Knew how to lure, to seduce. She wouldn’t know where to start. And how could she possibly satisfy a veritable god of war and passion? It was the most ridiculous idea