Read Online Princess in the Iron Mask by Victoria Parker - Free Book Online

his peripheral vision he watched her rub the outer flesh of her thighs for the third time and his foul mood ratcheted up a notch. Why did his brain insist on informing him of every damn move she made?
    ‘Next you’ll tell me we’re still being followed. ’
    Why didn’t she believe him? Never had his word been questioned. The knock to his honour gave his tone extra bite. ‘No. You may rest.’
    Lucas determinedly switched off, focused on changing gear and lowering his pulse. Soon enough he pulled into the private rear entrance of the Astoria and watched daylight being eclipsed by the metal security doors until only a thin sliver remained. Extinguishing the engine, he glanced over at Claudia. Her head was cushioned by the soft leather padded wing, her eyes were closed, breathing steady and even. In peace, her beauty was breathtaking.
    Eyes trailing down her body, his guts twisted at the sight of damp cloth sticking to her skin, outlining her lush curves.
    ‘Claudia?’ he said—loud enough to wake the dead. Otherwise he’d have no choice but to touch her, and while his body was willing and able his mind rejected the idea immediately.
    The problem was, where Claudia was concerned his body seemed to rule. Why else would he be in this imbroglio in the first place? He should have her ensconced in the jet by now, halfway to Arunthia. Perfectly dry and unruffled.
    Unfortunately it seemed his reluctant royal was dead to the world.
    ‘Dios.’ Lucas thrust open his door and launched himself to his feet, adrenaline pumping through his body and making him hard all over.
    Barking orders to the security guard to clear his path, he scooped her into his arms and strode through the darkened corridors, ordering his body not to feel. Not to react.
    Damn impossible when she curled into his arms, snuggled against his damp chest, laid her head on his broad shoulder and grabbed fistfuls of his white shirt. Heat shot down his spine, pooled in his groin, and by the time he reached the penthouse his heart was thumping a twenty-man stampede that had nothing to do with exertion.
    The guard opened the door to the penthouse and Lucas marched to the enormous bed, laid her down and backed the hell away.
    ‘Sir? Do you need any further assistance?’
    Lucas scrubbed his jaw. ‘Clothes. She needs something dry to sleep in.’ Why hadn’t he thought of this? What did women sleep in apart from their skin? Gorgeous honey-gold skin... His throat turned thick as molasses along with his blood, and against a direct order his eyes toppled back to the bed.
    ‘We have a concession downstairs, sir. I could ask one of the assistants to help?’
    He nodded, heard the man exit the room with a decisive click and reached for his mobile phone. He was determined to find the man who’d followed them, and soon, but first... Dios, she was in serious danger of becoming ill.
    Claudia was curling her long body into a foetal position on the gold coverlet, and he was smacked with that hint of vulnerability once more. His mind latched onto another woman at another time. Defenceless. Frail. Unprotected. By him.
    Lucas clenched his stomach to stop the pain ripping his abdomen clean in half, reached for the plateau he visited in the dead of night and banished the memory.
    Gritting his teeth, he focused on Claudia, curled his hand round her soft upper arm and gently tugged her onto her back. The sight of her stretching sinuously against the satin was one adrenaline shot to his groin too many. Cursing, he began to pop her coat buttons from top to bottom, peeling away the layers, trying his utmost to stay disconnected, yet unable to deny the tremor of his fingers.
    Then, gracias a Dios, she murmured and began to stir, turning on her side.
    ‘Claudia? Wake up. I need you to take off your clothes.’
    ‘Okay,’ she murmured sleepily, as she rolled back on her side and buried her face in the palm of her hand.
    ‘No. No! Do not sleep. Not yet.’
    That did it. She opened her