Princess in the Iron Mask - By Victoria Parker Page 0,62

her mind, one after another.

His mouth twisted into a cruel sneer. ‘Yes, Claudia, my father was the worst kind of man. He gambled every cent. Whored all over town. Drank himself into furious rages and beat her so badly she suffered severe internal haemorrhaging. Bled for hours before my very eyes.’

She drew her lips into her mouth, bit down hard, hauling every ounce of strength she could find to stop from crumpling to the floor. He had to live with his memories every hour of every day, and she felt damn pathetic for thinking she’d had a grim childhood. In comparison her life had been a bed of orange blossom.

She swallowed around the tight searing burn in her throat. ‘I’m so sorry, Lucas. Truly.’

Claudia watched him slump into the deep sofa, bury his face in his hands. ‘By the time I managed to get help, get her to the hospital, it was too late. I just sat there and watched her die. Powerless.’ He spread his hands wide in front of him, looked down at his palms as if he was back there, in that very room. ‘Blood dripped from my fingers. Pooled upon the floor. The longest six hours of my life.’

She scrambled onto her knees, then her feet. Wrapped the blanket around her body sarong-style and took a tentative step towards him, asking, begging. ‘Let me hold you. Can I hold you? Please.’

‘No!’ he said, snapping upright, warding her off with one flat palm, eyes wild as pain howled through him. ‘You stay away from me. I do not know what I’m capable of right now.’

Claudia slid back. Not because she was scared—no, she would never fear him—but because he was terrified. Terrified of the emotions pummelling through him. She wondered then if emotion reminded him of pain. Of weakness.

‘I made a promise to her that day. That I would avenge her death.’ His voice grew harder, darker, menacing. ‘And I grew bigger, stronger—went after him. Ensured he was thrown into the worst hellhole on earth, where he died a befitting death. But that wasn’t enough. Nowhere near enough. I went after every other murdering son of a bitch he was associated with. Hauled them one after another in front of every court in the land.’

‘A vigilante.’ Of course. She’d seen that roguish side to him from the start. The ruthless determination he radiated. The fierce power that held her in thrall. ‘A hero.’

One corner of his mouth lifted in a satirical smirk. ‘You think that, querida, if it keeps you warm at night.’

A blast of outrage stung her cheeks. ‘I won’t think it. I know it,’ she said, her voice cracking as she thumped her heart with her fist. ‘In here. Arunthia wouldn’t be the country it is today without you. The people worship you. So don’t you dare question your self-worth to me.’

He huffed a mirthless laugh. ‘And right there,’ he said, ‘is the irony.’

‘What do you mean?’ she said, hating the cynicism, the disbelief in his eyes.

‘Your father persuaded me to join the Arunthian Military. Taught me how to use power and strength for good, how to strive for honour by doing my duty to king and country. He saved my youthful dark soul. So when I came for you I had given him my word to protect you. And how do I repay him?’ His lips twisted in self-disgust. ‘I take your innocence. I ruin your reputation. I dishonour you and myself. Now I pay the price.’

The price?

‘Oh, now, wait just a damn minute,’ she said, her voice tremulous, her hand beseeching. ‘I asked you to make love to me. I gave freely. I wanted you so much.’ Her voice shattered along with her heart. Suddenly she didn’t care what the admission would cost her, because he needed to hear it. ‘Only you. It was never just sex for me, Lucas. I only wanted you. What’s more, there was nothing, nothing dishonourable about what happened between us.’

Face contorting, he shook his head as if he fought an inner battle—his conscience warring with her words.

Then he flung his arms wide. ‘Dios, what is wrong with you, Claudia? Where is the hate?’

‘In you, cariño. Never in me!’ What was he thinking in that tormented mind? Realisation struck her down and she crumpled to the bed of pillows. Shook her head wildly. ‘You could never, ever turn me away from you. Ever, cariño.’

His eyes flared with either anger or panic. She couldn’t be sure. ‘Dios, do not