Princess in the Iron Mask - By Victoria Parker Page 0,65

smile...which then slid off her face. ‘Wait a minute—doesn’t LGAS have an aerodynamic wing? I travelled in one of his jets!’ The word wealth didn’t even begin to describe his inordinate success. God, she was so proud of him her heart ached.

‘Of course you did, darling. Everyone important does.’ Her mother heaved a theatrical sigh. ‘Shoulders straight, Claudine. A hump is most unattractive.’

Claudia bolted upright. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t see it.’ For heaven’s sake—did she go around with her eyes shut? What else had she missed?

‘Lucas is a very private man,’ her mother continued, her tone taut, her eyes narrowed on Claudia’s face. ‘Something I’m acutely grateful for. You are entitled to a private life, Claudine, I stress private.’

Claudia’s stomach plunged. Was she so obvious? Or was the fact she’d been his guest enough to arouse suspicion? She’d never thought of that, had she? No, she’d just been desperate to stay with him. Only him. Because he made her feel safe. But how had it looked from the outside looking in? He worked for her father. He—

‘Nothing is going on, Mother.’ Well, apart from sex, and she wasn’t telling her that.

‘I am glad to hear it. The stakes are high. Think of your reputation. His work.’

She couldn’t give two stuffs about her reputation. Despite every loaded inference to the contrary, she was going back to London! And Lucas was staying here.

Heart crashing against her ribs, she flinched at a brisk rap upon the door and the strutting in of her mother’s PA, carrying a crushed velvet gift box.

Her mother passed the box to Claudia with a warning look. ‘I will leave you now. Your father will be here on the hour.’

Waiting for the door to close, she felt a heady concoction of panic and excitement surge through her veins. At the click of the door she fumbled with the lid, tossed it to the floor and tore through layer upon layer of black tissue paper. Then time stood still as her eyes devoured the contents, her heart leaping up her throat.

‘Oh, Lucas.’

Hand trembling, she picked up the thick cream-coloured card, ran her thumb over the strong, black masculine scroll. Laying the card upon the mirrored plate, just so, she returned to the box and lifted a pair of long pale gold gloves—exactly the same satin as the dress he’d known she was desperate to wear. The sheath, thank heavens, hung on the rack in front of her: a temptation she’d been unable to shake.

Twisting her hand this way and that, she saw small diamond studs wink at her from where they trailed up the full length of the cuff in a perfect row.

Tears glistened behind her eyes.

This from the man who professed he didn’t feel. Oh, but she knew he could feel—every emotion, ten-fold. The power of which scared him to death.

Lucas cared for her. He must. Was he lending her his strength? God, how she ached for his touch. A touch she couldn’t allow herself to hope for, because she was beginning to realise she’d put his position at risk. The honourable duty he lived for.

Dressing, she imagined him sprawled across the sofa, watching her, dark hunger glittering in his sapphire eyes as she smoothed sheer ivory silk stockings up her legs. Legs he’d kissed every inch of. Tying the ribbons on her corset, it was as if his fingers curled around the supple silk, pulling her, cinching her tight.

This from the man whose written words echoed in her head as she stood at the top of the opulent sweeping staircase holding onto her father’s arm, her heart a thump, thump, thumping beat.

Hold your head high, Princesa.

Claudia lifted her chin. Opened her eyes on a monstrously titanic room where every sinister eye looked upon her.

Be proud of the woman you have become.

She took one step, then another, begging her feet not to fail her now. Down, down, down she went, gliding into the palatial, softly lit ballroom. The crowd hushed, her mind locked on Lucas...the satin caressed her wrists like a lover’s healing kiss.

This from the man whose eyes sought hers as soon as her feet hit the polished floor with a look of such intense pride she had to grip her father’s arm not to fall.

Her heart filled, gushed, overflowed.

This from the man she’d fallen deeply and irrevocably in love with.

This from the man she now had to protect.

* * *

Lucas stood in the midst of inane chatter, searching for the satisfaction of a mission accomplished. It