Scandals Of The Famous: The Scandalous Princess

‘And why should I do this?’ Ben inquired in a silky voice. ‘I don’t need to make a deal, princess. You’re already here because I convinced your father.’

‘Do it,’ Natalia told him, ‘because you want to.’ Ben’s gaze blazed into her own and distantly she wondered what on earth she was doing, daring him like this. Wanting him like this. And he knew it. And maybe even wanted her too. It was crazy, scary, and yet she couldn’t keep herself from it, from him, like a child playing with matches. Someone was going to get burned.

‘All right,’ Ben said softly. ‘When?’

‘Tomorrow.’

‘Where?’

Natalia drew a steadying breath. How had this even happened? How had they got to this place? ‘You can pick me up at the palazzo at noon.’

Ben was still gazing at her, his expression narrowed and assessing, and Natalia had the strange feeling that he was as surprised as she was that he’d agreed. That they were going out … tomorrow. Finally he nodded, and Natalia managed an insouciant smile despite the thud of her heart and the sickness of her palms. ‘Wear something nice. And don’t expect to be home until late.’

‘Sounds like you’ve already got a plan.’

‘Maybe.’ She didn’t, not really, not beyond showing Ben what fun could really mean. And it had nothing to do with football pitches. For a second, she dizzily imagined just how much fun the two of them could have. And then swallowed audibly.

Ben’s gaze still rested on her, considering, heavy, and once more Natalia wondered just what on earth she was doing. Risking. Then, without another word, the tension still tautening the air between them, he turned and went into the office.

As he closed the door Natalia sagged, saw she’d been clenching the T-shirt she’d been folding so hard there were nail marks in the fabric.

When Natalia arrived back at the palazzo that evening, her mind still buzzing from her exchange with Ben, her mother called her into her private rooms and Natalia knew from the lavender silk evening gown her mother wore that once again royal duty beckoned.

‘Back from your charity work?’ Zoe asked, which Natalia knew was how her mother liked to view her volunteering for Ben Jackson. She nodded, and Zoe turned to a waiting maid. ‘I’ll wear the amethyst parure.’

‘Very good, Your Highness.’ The maid went to fetch the magnificent set of diamond and amethyst earrings, necklace, bracelet cuffs and tiara from her mother’s private safe. Zoe turned to Natalia.

‘We have several foreign dignitaries coming to dine tonight. You will attend. It is perfectly possible that one may represent your future husband.’

Natalia felt an icy plunging sensation in her middle. ‘My engagement to Prince Michel only ended a few weeks ago.’

‘All the more reason to press on. You are twenty-seven years old, Natalia. High time you were married.’

‘It’s the twenty-first century, Mother,’ Natalia protested, even though she’d made this argument before, to little effect. ‘Twenty-seven could be considered young these days.’

‘Not for a princess,’ Zoe replied firmly. ‘In any case, we are not ruled by current fashions. Your marriage is an important negotiation that will strengthen our country.’

‘Plenty of royals marry whomever they please,’ Natalia pointed out, and Queen Zoe arched her eyebrows.

‘You do not, I trust,’ she said, ‘have anyone in mind.’

Ridiculously and unreasonably, Ben—his quirking smile, his powerful body—flashed through her mind. ‘Of course not.’

Zoe sighed. ‘I know it is hard for a young woman to face her royal duty. And perhaps your father and I have been too lenient, allowing you the freedom to live life as you saw fit for too long.’ Although her mother spoke delicately, Natalia still heard the judgment, felt it in herself. She hadn’t done much with her life. She knew that. She just didn’t know how to change, or if she even wanted to. What was the point?

The maid returned with the parure and laid out the pieces on her mother’s vanity. Zoe glanced down at them, her eyes narrowed in assessment. ‘It is time you stepped into the role to which you were born, Natalia. It is time you started acting like a princess.’ The maid lowered the bejewelled tiara onto Zoe’s silver hair. Her mother met Natalia’s gaze in the ornate mirror. Natalia saw compassion there, but also an implacable will she knew she didn’t have the strength or resources to defy. ‘You will start,’ Queen Zoe told her, ‘tonight.’

An hour later, dressed in a sedate and modest evening gown of ivory silk, Natalia followed her mother into the palazzo’s formal receiving room. She hated these evenings. Hated how she felt like a dressed-up doll, or worse, a slab of meat. Something to be assessed and bargained over, and then picked apart or even devoured.

The hours dragged on as her parents engaged the dignitaries in social niceties and political innuendoes that Natalia didn’t even bother to listen to. She’d long ago learned not to have an opinion about any of it. As they headed into the dining room, her mother whispered in her ear once more.

‘At least smile, Natalia. You’re behaving like a block of wood.’

‘I thought that was exactly what you wanted,’ Natalia muttered.

Her mother silenced her with a quelling look and swept into the dining room. Natalia took her place at the table, her mind wandering as the conversation continued to flow around her. Then she heard her name.

‘The Princess Natalia has enjoyed herself, hasn’t she?’ One of the dignitaries—from some Middle Eastern island nation, Natalia thought—glanced at her with a smile, although his words had held a sharp edge.

‘All young girls enjoy themselves,’ Zoe answered with a gracious smile. ‘But the princess now needs a strong husband to guide her.’

Natalia nearly choked on her vichyssoise. She didn’t want a man to guide her. Or even love her. She didn’t want to get married at all. The thought of being auctioned off to some nameless autocratic royal made her insides clench in a spasm of both fear and fury.

Even as she told herself that her parents couldn’t force her to marry anyone, she acknowledged that they very well could. They could certainly make her life unpleasant or even unbearable unless she agreed to whichever husband they had chosen for her. She might as well live in the Middle Ages.

Perhaps she would have been better off with Prince Michel.

‘The princess is involving herself with some charity work,’ Zoe continued. ‘For disadvantaged children.’ She turned to Natalia, acknowledging her presence for the first time. ‘You find it very rewarding, don’t you, my dear?’

Natalia thought of the hundreds of envelopes she’d stuffed and sealed over the past few days. From somewhere she dredged up a small smile. ‘Very.’

Zoe smiled at the men assembled, who looked satisfied by Natalia’s meek answer. One of them gave her what she suspected he thought was a benevolent look. ‘I’m glad to hear the princess is changing her ways.’

‘The princess,’ Natalia said before she could stop herself, ‘is right here.’

The ensuing silence was like a thunderclap. Defiantly Natalia reached for her wine glass and took a large sip. What could they do to her after all? She was twenty-seven years old, a grown woman …

A woman who was dependent on her parents and their generosity because there was no way she could ever support herself. No way she could ever make it in this world.

After an icy pause her mother resumed the conversation, steering it towards more innocuous matters. At the end of the meal Queen Zoe rose to retire with Natalia to one of the smaller salons while the men discussed politics—and her possible marriage—in another room.

As soon as they were alone, the staff dismissed, Zoe turned to Natalia. ‘How dare you embarrass me,’ she hissed. ‘And yourself, and your family. We have been very patient, Natalia. Very tolerant—’

Natalia flushed. ‘I didn’t like them talking about me as if I wasn’t there.’

‘That is how it is done, Natalia! That is how these negotiations take place. These men want to see you and how you comport yourself so they can make a report to their sovereign. Is even this concept too difficult for you?’

‘I am not,’ Natalia said through gritted teeth, ‘that stupid.’

‘You could have fooled me tonight,’ Zoe snapped. ‘The way you have carried on these past years, never mind your abysmal performance in school! At least your sisters have learned how to behave themselves.’

That stung. ‘Oh, really? Carlotta is unmarried with a child and Sophia eloped with—’

‘Their marriages are now settled,’ Zoe cut across her, ‘and so must yours be.’

‘And if I don’t want to marry?’ Natalia flung out. ‘At all?’

Zoe sighed, the anger seeming to drain out of her. ‘You are a princess, Natalia. Princesses marry.’

‘This is the—’

‘Twenty-first century. Yes, I’m well aware.’ Her mother sat on a little antique chair, her back ramrod straight as always, and yet for the first time Natalia realised how old her mother looked. Living a life for duty’s sake took its toll on you, she supposed. Had her mother ever been happy? Or was happiness not even a consideration?

‘What other option do you have, Natalia?’ Zoe asked wearily. ‘Would you prefer to live your whole life in your parents’ palazzo, and then with your brother and his bride, an object of pity and scorn?’

Natalia swallowed. It sounded horrible. Everything did. ‘I don’t want to marry a man who—’

‘Doesn’t love you?’ Zoe filled in, her voice ending on a sigh. ‘Really, Natalia, love is for fairy tales.’

‘I don’t care about love,’ Natalia said stiffly. She’d seen and done enough not to trust such a concept. ‘I just want respect.’

‘Then perhaps you should start acting like you’re worthy of it.’

The words felt like a slap. She knew she hadn’t done much with her life. She didn’t have much to be proud of. She’d always known that. She just didn’t know how to change. If she could. Even if she wanted to. ‘Is that all?’ she asked her mother, her voice wooden. ‘Because I’ve had a long day and I’d like to go to bed.’

‘Very well.’ Zoe sighed and waved her away. ‘At least you have curtailed your evening exploits. But I do not want this ridiculous volunteering of yours to interfere with your real duty—and that is to find a husband.’

‘Father insisted I volunteer for a month,’ Natalia reminded her mother. ‘I must do as he says.’

‘So you must. And then you must do as I say, Natalia, and marry.’

Nodding again, her heart like a stone inside her, Natalia slipped out of the salon and up the stairs. A week ago volunteering for Ben had seemed like a prison sentence. Now it felt like a reprieve.

CHAPTER SIX

AT precisely noon the next day Natalia watched Ben’s silver Mercedes pull up in front of the palazzo. She was already waiting in the front foyer, having cleared his entrance with the royal security. Now she checked her reflection in one of the ornate gilt mirrors that lined the hall and attempted to subdue the wild beating of her heart. She was far too excited by the prospect of a day with Ben Jackson, and not a photocopier or football pitch in sight.

‘Princess.’ Ben’s mouth curved in a smile as his gaze swept over her like a wave of sun-warmed water. ‘You look delightful.’

‘Thank you.’ Ben didn’t look too bad himself. He wore a lightweight linen suit, his Aviator sunglasses emphasizing the chiselled planes of his face. He opened the passenger door and Natalia slid inside his car, smoothing the cream silk of her designer shift across her thighs.

Ben returned to the driver’s seat and as they pulled out of the palazzo’s drive he slid her a sideways glance. ‘Is that a hat?’

Laughing a little, Natalia reached up to pat the tan feather and silk creation perched pertly on one side of her head. ‘Technically it’s a fascinator.’

‘A what?’

‘A fascinator. A millinery creation that is, of course, meant to fascinate.’ She smiled at him, enjoying the way his mouth curved in an answering smile, one hand on the steering wheel, the other stretched out along the back of the seat, his fingers nearly brushing her shoulder. Her heart beat hard again and her senses sang in answer to that smile. Natalia knew she was going to enjoy every minute of this day, a day out of time and reality, a day that could actually be a date. She had no doubt that come Monday, she would be no more than Ben’s irritating employee—or volunteer—once more.

‘So I can drive around the island,’ Ben told her as he made his way through Santa Maria’s capital city, ‘but I assume with that outfit you have some destination in mind?’

‘As a matter of fact, yes. The island’s race course.’

‘We’re going to a race?’

‘A horse race, yes, although admittedly not a hugely important one. I think it’s a qualifying race for the derby later this year. But since you seem to be a betting man …’

‘I see. And what should we bet on this time, do you think?’

Natalia titled her head, gave him a playful smile. ‘We’re betting?’

‘Of course, Princess. It’s no fun if you don’t bet. I don’t want to win money.’

Her heart was beating so hard and fast she felt it like thunder in her ears. Attempting insouciance was proving harder and harder. ‘So what would you like to bet on, then?’ she finally asked when she trusted her voice, if not herself. This man was dangerous. And she was dangerous when she was with him. She had no idea what she might give into.

‘We’ll just have to see,’ Ben murmured, and followed her directions to the other side of the island and Santa Maria’s race course.

The royal box overlooking the course was empty save for them; since it wasn’t a major race her parents and siblings had found other things to occupy them. Natalia slid into her seat and glanced at the line-up of horses racing. ‘Apparently,’ she told Ben, ‘Autumn Nights is the favourite.’

Ben lounged in his seat, flicking through the program with long, lean fingers. ‘Then we can’t bet on that one.’

‘Why not?’

He gave her a lazy smile. ‘Neither of us is a sure thing, Princess.’

Natalia glanced down at the program, willed herself not to flush. She had a feeling Ben was not talking about horses. ‘Evening Star is considered the underdog,’ she said. ‘It’s his first race. I’ll bet on him.’

‘To win?’

She nodded. ‘And what about you?’

He flicked another glance at the line-up. ‘Wild Wishes.’

She had a few of those. Swallowing, Natalia said, ‘We still haven’t decided just what we’re betting on.’

‘Well,’ Ben said, his voice dropping to a husky murmur, ‘I think we should make it interesting.’

She shifted in her seat. ‘How interesting?’

‘If Evening Star wins, you get to kiss me.’

Desire ran through her like a trail of dynamite, exploding inside of her. ‘And if Wild Wishes wins?’

‘I get to kiss you.’

Natalia let out a little laugh. ‘But that’s the same thing.’

‘No,’ Ben clarified silkily, ‘it’s not. It’s all about who controls the kiss.’

Control. Of course this was about control. Natalia turned away, focusing on the race course beneath them. She fanned herself with her program, and heard Ben chuckle softly.

‘Hot, Princess?’

‘Wild Wishes is a long shot too,’ she informed him, ignoring his little innuendo. ‘It might be that neither of us gets a kiss today.’

Ben leaned back in his seat. ‘And that,’ he said softly, ‘would be a pity.’

Yes, it would. Already Natalia was imagining how his lips would feel on hers, hard and demanding. But if she controlled the kiss … she felt as if she’d swallowed fireworks, everything fizzing inside her. She didn’t know which of them she wanted to win.

The race started, and with it Natalia felt another surge of adrenalin. She felt a fully male energy radiating from Ben’s powerful form as he leaned forward to watch the race. Autumn Nights started out in front, but a quarter of the way through the course Wild Wishes pulled ahead.

‘Ah-ha,’ Ben said softly, and Natalia gave him a knowing smile.

‘Evening Star is known to save the best for last.’

‘You want to win, Princess?’

‘Of course.’

He smiled, and Natalia smiled back, their gazes locking in steely and heated challenge. Natalia had never felt so aware, so alive, or so wanted. After a tense moment she forced herself to turn back to the race.

‘Ah-ha,’ she echoed. ‘Look at Evening Star.’

Sure enough Evening Star had pulled a length ahead of Wild Wishes. They watched for several taut moments as the horses galloped, only half a length between them, dust flying from their hooves. Evening Star was still ahead, and Natalia was already envisioning turning to Ben with a little smile, yanking him over to her by his tie and pulling his mouth down to hers …

Then, out of seemingly nowhere, Autumn Nights pulled ahead of both the horses, crossing the finish line a full two lengths in front of Evening Star.

Around them the crowd burst into cheers at such a close victory, and Natalia sank back in her seat, conscious of the swamping sense of disappointment she felt.

‘Well,’ Ben said with a surprisingly shaky laugh, ‘it looks like we both lost.’

‘Yes.’ Her throat felt absurdly tight. It was just a race; it would have been just a kiss. Yet she felt as if she’d lost out on something wonderful and precious. ‘At least there’s champagne,’ she said lightly, and beckoned a waiter forward to serve them.

The tension between them lessened as they chatted over champagne and strawberries. Natalia forced the thought—and hope—of the kiss back, knowing there was no good dwelling on it now. The moment had passed. Ben would have kissed her for a bet, she realized with a trace of bitterness, but not just to kiss her. Not the way she really wanted to be kissed.

‘Why the frown, Princess?’

She glanced up at him, saw his eyes narrowed in that speculative way she’d come to recognize, and gave him an easy smile. ‘No reason.’

‘Not pining over Evening Star, are you?’

‘That,’ Natalia told him sweetly, ‘would be quite a wild wish.’

He chuckled and leaned back in his seat. ‘So do you go to the races often?’

‘Occasionally. A royal presence is often required. My father owns one of the horses in this race.’

‘Which one?’

‘Abdul Akbar. He came in fifth.’

‘Too bad.’ She just shrugged. ‘Are you close to your parents?’

‘Close?’ Natalia took a sip of champagne, unnerved by the question. ‘Are you?’ she asked.

‘Nope, not going to answer that one. I asked you first.’

‘Then I suppose the short answer is no, not really.’

‘What’s the long answer?’

She stared at him. ‘Why do you want to know?’

‘Well, Princess,’ Ben told her, leaning forward so the male scent of him, aftershave and champagne and even a little bit of strawberry, washed over her, ‘it’s called making conversation.’

She gave him a tiny smile. ‘A talent I didn’t think you were capable of.’

‘I am, on occasion.’

‘So what’s the occasion?’

He held his champagne flute aloft. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’

It had been more comfortable, Natalia thought, when they had been bantering and betting on a kiss. This question—this conversation—felt far more intimate and dangerous than a mere brushing of lips ever could have been. ‘My parents put the kingdom before their family,’ Natalia finally said. ‘In many different ways. It created a distance.’

‘Duty before love?’

‘Something like that.’ She really didn’t feel like going into it, or remembering the years of secrecy and shame. Keep it quiet, Natalia. Don’t let anyone know how slow you are. She smiled, took a sip of her drink. ‘What about you?’

‘Am I close to my parents?’ Ben shrugged. ‘My father likes to think we’re close, but I’m not sure we really are. And I feel very protective of my mother. She’s been through too much already.’ He pressed his lips together, clearly as uncomfortable as she was revealing anything personal, and Natalia laughed softly.

‘You shouldn’t have asked the question, Ben, if you weren’t willing to answer it.’

He acknowledged her point with a wry half-smile. ‘True. Maybe we should stick to talking about films or books. Read anything good lately?’

Definitely not. ‘Nope,’ Natalia said lightly. She reached for a strawberry and tried to ignore the ache in her chest that radiated outwards, seeming to take over her whole body with its pain. Why, she wondered, did it hurt to have secrets when the thought of them being revealed was so terrifying? Either way she couldn’t win.

‘So what’s next on your agenda for today?’ Ben asked, and Natalia felt a flicker of relief as well as disappointment that the conversation was moving on.

‘Dinner at a very nice restaurant on the beach, and then dancing at the island’s best club.’ She arched her eyebrows. ‘Do you dance?’

‘Fabulously.’

‘Brilliant.’

She rose and Ben followed suit, holding out his hand to escort her from the royal box. After a slight hesitation Natalia took it, needing to feel his fingers wrapped over hers, skin against skin even in just this small way. She knew that even though she had set the schedule for the day, Ben was the one who was in control. How could she doubt it for a moment? He was man who thrived on control, who craved it … and she, Natalia acknowledged with a whisper of panic, could not resist him.

They ate fish caught that afternoon with the waves lapping the shore only a few meters away, and Natalia found herself relaxing, reveling in Ben’s attention and interest. He asked her about her life as a princess without sounding snide or condemning, but as if he really wanted to know. And Natalia reeled him with tales of her upbringing, finding moments and anecdotes that had not been tainted by disapproval or duty. She also liked hearing about Ben’s climb to his current position as CEO of his own multi-million pound finance management firm, learning more about the man she was finding to be far more fascinating than she’d ever expected.

The sun sunk towards the sea turning its surface to burnishing gold, and they lounged in their chairs, finishing the bottle of wine, the spring air a warm caress.

‘So,’ Ben finally said, his face in half-shadow, ‘dancing.’

‘I can’t wait to see you dance,’ Natalia said, although more than half of her wanted to stay here, in this twilit intimacy and savour simply being alone with Ben. Yet surely that was too dangerous. Better to be in a public place, with other people, where her body—and heart—wouldn’t lead her astray.

‘And I can’t wait to dance with you,’ Ben replied, and he signalled for the cheque.

The club Natalia chose was packed with writhing bodies, flashing with strobe lights, and pulsing with music so loud Ben could feel it reverberate through his chest. Perfect. He couldn’t get close to Natalia in a place like this, couldn’t see the golden glints in her eyes when she laughed, couldn’t feel his self-control start to fray as he reached for her again, finding any excuse to touch her. His hand on the small of her back, his arm across the seat of his car, his fingers brushing hers as they clinked glasses. Any excuse at all, even a ridiculous bet on a race horse.

He’d never wanted a woman so much. A woman he knew to be dangerous, inappropriate, impossible. He should never be interested in someone like Natalia.

Someone like Natalia. Yet who was she? The partying, publicity-seeking princess, or the woman who laughed and flirted even as he saw the shadow of vulnerability in her eyes? The woman he despised for everything she represented and was—spoiled, shallow, vain—or the woman he couldn’t get enough of, both emotionally and physically, so he sought her out again and again?

She turned to him now, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes before she gave him her usual challenging little smile. ‘Ready to dance?’