Princess in the Iron Mask - By Victoria Parker Page 0,44

are of high import, Claudia. So let them be awed by you. Enjoy it.’

A small huff burst from her lips. ‘Enjoy it?’ she repeated, her mood lifting, firing her back into motion to resume their walk. ‘That’s a bit of a stretch, Lucas. Two days ago I lived in a lab. And, before you say another word, you don’t care much for attention either. Every time someone bows in your direction I can hear your molars crack.’

His teeth ached just thinking about it. ‘Because it is not appropriate.’

‘Seems to me you’re a local hero, Lucas,’ she said, nudging his arm with her elbow, a small smile playing about her lips. ‘Enjoy it.’

A growl rumbled up his chest. ‘They are grateful, and I must allow them to show their respect. I have no desire to revel in success when I was merely doing my job and improving the kingdom.’ Even then he’d had his own agenda. No one would suffer in filth and violence as his mother had. Not as long as he lived.

A cluster of tables from a café spilled onto the pathway dead ahead and Claudia slid her arm through his, leaning close until he felt the full crush of her breast against his arm.

Lucas ground his jaw. His breathing grew short. ‘Let us go back to the car. Down this side street.’ Nice. Quiet. Space.

Except the tall stucco buildings seemed to curve inward and Claudia did not let go of his arm. Just curled in tighter. And, impossible as it seemed, the silence rang through his head like a ten-bell siren.

‘Lucas—earlier, when you—’ Coming to a dead stop, she tilted the brim of her hat as she lifted her gaze to a window display, licked her lips. When he finally tore his eyes from that gorgeous mouth he followed her viewpoint to—

Holy...

‘Let us move on,’ he said, trying to pull her away before his imagination provided him with a view of Claudia dressed in such a thing. But it was much like tugging on the reins of a stubborn horse.

Pressing the tip of one finger against her pout, she focused her gaze, moved a little nearer to the glass plate. ‘Do men like that kind of thing?’

Throat thick, he scratched out, ‘No...’

‘It’s pretty, don’t you think?’

‘No.’ Sexy, yes. Seductive, certainly. Erotic, absolutely. Pretty? ‘Definitely not.’

‘Maybe the white one, then?’ she said, pointing to a poster of a woman in a tight ivory basque and stockings.

‘I know little of these things, but I imagine that ensemble is more suited to a wedding night,’ he ground out, attempting another tug, desperation fuelling his force.

Claudia simply let go. And the loss of heat did strange things to his mind-set.

‘Oh. I’ll never need one of those, then. I couldn’t think of anything worse.’

Lucas blinked, scrolled back through the conversation. ‘Worse than a wedding night?’

‘Getting married.’

She shuddered. Actually shuddered. Why were they suddenly talking about marriage?

Thuds began to pound at his temples. An army of ants began to crawl across his nape.

‘I’m married to my job and I always will be. I don’t want commitment. I’ve fought for my freedom and I’m keeping it.’

Lucas’s eyes narrowed. ‘Every woman wants to get married, Claudia. Surely every little princess dreams of Prince Charming?’

She laughed—mocking, dry. ‘I promise you, I’ve slept through many a dream and Prince Charming has never taken a leading role yet.’ With the tip of one unsteady finger she hooked the bridge of her sunglasses and slid them halfway down her nose. ‘Do you want to know who has?’ she asked, shooting him a look.

On the brink of being coy, that look morphed into something so catastrophically loaded he felt the bullet ricochet to his groin.

Madre de Dios!

‘No, I do not,’ he said. ‘Dreams are private things.’ If she ever found out what he did to her in his dreams she would faint dead away.

First kisses equalled purity, and so long as he had breath left in his body she was remaining as pure as new-fallen snow. Whether she liked it or not. Whether she wanted sex or not. And sex, he realised, was exactly what she had on her mind.

Dios, how could he possibly have sex with Claudia? The suggestion was absurd. There were two types of women in the world: those you could slake your carnal appetites on and come away feeling empty and those you made love to. He’d never made love in his life. He wouldn’t know how. And Claudia was one of those women. Claudia who wanted