Princess in the Iron Mask Read Online Free PDF Page B

dedicated to her job, but did she go around blackmailing people? No.
    ‘You speak of the strength of your dedication. Your work taking priority. Yet if that were true the money would make your decision in an instant. Or,’ he continued, his mouth twisting, ‘is it a case of you using your job as a convenient excuse?’
    ‘No!’ she cried.
    Lucas’s head reared at her outburst and she winced inwardly.
    ‘No,’ she tried again—softer, quieter. But it was altogether too late. The hitch to his brow told her so. And to some extent he was right.
    When the effects of her illness had waned in her late teens her parents had visited once, maybe twice. Other times they’d sent messengers, and for years she’d declined everything from a short vacation to a simple dinner on her own turf, using her work as an excuse. Avoiding her own parents because they’d hurt her, betrayed her, cast her aside. When she’d needed them the most. If she took the money this day she would be giving them the power to destroy her all over again. But you can keep your distance, Claudia. You’re adept at doing just that.
    Three weeks of God knew what, in exchange for her funding.
    Taking short ragged breaths to ease the pain in her lungs, she squeezed her eyes shut. In the space of two seconds her mind began its attack, assaulting her with a multitude of visions and images.
    Arunthia—a world in which she’d been deemed unworthy and dispensable.
    St Andrew’s Hospital—where she could make a real difference. And— oh, God —the children trying to smile through the pain, the misery. If she lost her job work on their case would scream to a halt. Claudia was their advocate. They needed her. Could she ever look at them in the face again, knowing she could have helped if only she’d faced her past?
    Pain cracked through her mind and her eyes pinged open. Lucas was staring, his eyes curiously hot and heavy, fixed on her mouth where she tore at her bottom lip. Gooseflesh pimpled every inch of her skin and she shuddered ferociously. Why did he have to stare at her so much? It was as unnerving as it was confusing. Made her want to reach up. Touch. Check her skin. Bury her face in her hands. Hide. But she couldn’t. Wouldn’t.
    As if he’d caught himself, he scrubbed his hands over his face and combed his glorious hair back from his brow with long blunt fingers. Heat flushed through her core and her breasts grew strangely heavy. She stroked her clavicle and felt the burn sear her palm. Oh, great. Her body wasn’t complying with the new hate programme.
    ‘Accompany me to Arunthia, Claudia,’ he said, in a persuasive drawl that made her quiver. How was she meant to stay sane with a man who made her spontaneously combust? ‘Despite what you think, I understand your desire to crack the elusive code of an illness that must’ve been difficult for you, but surely you can continue to work from home during your stay? With your family’s support?’
    Support? She almost choked. The very last thing she would ever get from her parents was support.
    Lucas’s gaze dropped to her hands and she realised she was tugging at her cuffs with the tips of her fingers. Again. Her stomach nose-dived to the floor. His eyes were like fidget-seeking missiles. She couldn’t think straight around him. Instead of controlling her habits, which she usually managed to hide unerringly, she kept being distracted by him. Her attention constantly snagged on his long, powerful legs, his huge, masculine hands, his utterly contemptuous handsome-as-sin face. And no matter how hard she tried her traitorous mind kept imagining things—like those big hands touching her in all the places she felt warm and sensitive. Kissing her. Caressing her.
    Heat slapped her cheeks. This had to stop!
    Her life was crumbling before her eyes—her career, her life’s work, slipping through her fingers like grains of salt—and all she could think about was being kissed. If that wasn’t bad enough,