Scandals Of The Famous: The Scandalous Princess

‘Not bad?’ she repeated, arching an eyebrow. ‘I’ve completely ruined my manicure and that’s all you can say?’

He stopped in front of her, close enough that she could feel the heat coming from his body, inhale the tangy and not unpleasant scent of aftershave and male sweat.

‘Let’s see,’ he said, and took one of her hands in his. Natalia tried to ignore the treacherous and tempting warmth that stole through her body at the feel of his roughened fingers touching her own. His thumb caressed her palm—surely he didn’t even realise he was doing it—as he studied her now broken and chipped nails. He glanced up, and she saw the glints in his navy eyes, fixated on the quirk of that incredibly sensual and mobile mouth. ‘A noble sacrifice,’ he murmured. He didn’t let go of her hand. Natalia heard her breath come out in something halfway to a shudder. Had Ben noticed? Did he realise what this simple hand-holding was doing to her?

She saw his pupils flare and dilate and with a thrill she realised he was as aware—and affected—as she was. The thought made her knees weaken in a way that had nothing to do with how exhausted and achey she was, and everything to do with the electric attraction that pulsed silently between them.

‘I quite agree,’ she said in a voice that bordered on shaky, and with both reluctance and determination tugged her hand from his own. This was way too dangerous.

Ben took a step back, raked a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. She really wasn’t into all that macho male stuff—she’d always preferred men to be well-groomed and elegant—but right now she didn’t think she’d seen anything half as sexy as Ben Jackson in his muddy football kit. ‘Actually,’ he said, ‘you were amazing today.’

Natalia tried to ignore the rush of emotion his sincere praise caused to blaze through her. Emotion was just as dangerous as passion, maybe even more so. She didn’t get close to anyone, not physically, not emotionally. She’d learned those lessons, at least. Yet right now Ben was breaching all of her defenses, leaving her completely exposed and wanting, and that knowledge made her go on the attack. ‘That must have hurt,’ she mocked, and he simply raised his eyebrows in query. ‘Giving me a genuine compliment,’ she clarified tartly.

‘Actually, it didn’t feel half bad.’

‘High praise indeed then.’

He shook his head, smiling ruefully. ‘You never let up, do you?’

No. Never. ‘Would you really want me to?’ she quipped, meaning it to be a throwaway remark, but she knew immediately that Ben had taken it all too seriously. From the shadow in his eyes, the way his lips thinned, she realised he was as wary of getting close as she was.

Why did that hurt?

Surely it should have only brought relief.

‘I don’t know about that, Princess,’ he finally said, and Natalia knew from his lazy tone that he was playing this as she was. Light. Safe. ‘I told you you were exhausting.’

‘And I told you I move fast. Now I need to get back and shower up. I have a very important dinner engagement.’

She saw his expression harden and knew he was thinking about her reputation, the salacious reports of her behavior in the tabloids. That tell-all affair she’d supposedly had. Natalia smiled grimly. She’d agreed to the affair, just not the tell-all part. And that was surely another reason to steer clear of Ben Jackson. She didn’t do close. She didn’t let people in. She wasn’t about to get her heart broken. Again.

‘You’d better get going then,’ he said, his tone turning cool as he swept one arm towards the gates of the stadium. ‘Your driver must be waiting.’

No doubt he was envisioning just what she might she get up to tonight, and all she had was another boring dinner with foreign dignitaries intent on sizing her up like a side of meat.

‘I’m sure he is,’ she agreed, her tone as cool as his. Yet she didn’t move. She had a crazy impulse to blurt something out to him, something she knew she would instantly regret. You don’t know me. I’m not like that. At least, I don’t want to be. She pressed her lips together, hardened her heart and walked past him.

‘Have a nice night, Princess.’ Ben’s drawl seemed to follow her right out to the stadium’s car park and the waiting car. And she still heard his mocking voice in her head all the way back to the palazzo.

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘I HAVE a favour to ask of you.’

Natalia glanced up from the net bag of footballs she’d been collecting. It was the end of the third day of camp, and she felt as limp as a wet rag. She’d always worked out, but being on a football pitch for eight hours a day promised a whole new level of fitness.

‘A favour?’ she said, arching her eyebrows. It was the second week of camp, and she hadn’t talked to Ben much outside of working hours. When she did she kept it light and mocking. Safe. ‘I bet you don’t like that.’

‘Why wouldn’t I?’

‘I doubt you like asking favours of anyone.’

He frowned, considering this. It was one thing Natalia had learned and liked about him: he thought about things. Seriously. He wasn’t dismissive. Except, perhaps, of her. ‘I don’t suppose I do,’ he finally admitted.

‘Especially of me.’

‘Don’t put yourself down, Princess.’

‘Actually,’ she said tartly, ‘I was putting you down.’ She drew the drawstring closed on the bag and tossed it with the others. The pitch was empty, the other volunteers having trickled away. She was conscious of the looming space all around them, the emptiness.

‘Seriously,’ Ben said. ‘A favour.’

Natalia folded her arms. ‘Okay. Tell me.’

‘I have a client dinner on Friday,’ Ben said. He sounded hesitant, which was a first. Natalia wasn’t used to seeing him anything but arrogantly assured. ‘They’re interested in supporting these camps, making it more of a joint effort.’

‘That’s good, isn’t it?’

Ben nodded. ‘Their support would help to take the camps to the next level. Expand across Europe, maybe South America and Asia.’

‘I always knew you were ambitious.’

‘It would be great for the kids,’ Ben said, and she saw a shadow of vulnerability in his eyes. This meant something to him, she realised. It meant a lot. ‘All right,’ she said quietly. ‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Come to the dinner with me. My clients want to meet you, and it would be great publicity for the camp.’

Natalia knew she could make any number of quips about how Ben really did want publicity after all, but suddenly she didn’t feel like it. ‘Want to meet me?’ she echoed.

‘They’ve heard of you.’

‘Who hasn’t?’ she said drily, but she felt a little knife-twist of disappointment. She didn’t want to play the princess to Ben’s starstruck clients. She didn’t want to play the princess at all. ‘You realise,’ she said after a moment, ‘you might not get the kind of publicity you’re looking for.’

‘I’m aware of that,’ Ben said evenly, and the knife twisted a little more. She knew he didn’t mean to judge her, but he still was. At least, it felt like he was.

‘Of course you are,’ she agreed, and Ben’s expression didn’t flicker.

‘I don’t like the press,’ he said quietly, a confession. ‘I never have. I’ve seen the cost of it on too many people in my family. Especially my mother, after my father—well, I’m sure you know what my father did.’ His mouth twisted, and Natalia knew how hard it was for him to admit this. Or anything.

‘I don’t know all he did, because I don’t read the tabloids as thoroughly as you clearly do,’ she said, keeping her voice light. ‘But I did hear that he wasn’t exactly faithful.’

‘Right.’ He let out a slow, shuddering breath. ‘And his philandering generated a great deal of press. That’s why I jumped to conclusions when they snapped a photo of us coming out of the restaurant—I’ve lived with that kind of thing all my life.’

‘So have I,’ Natalia returned quietly, and Ben frowned.

‘But you go after it. I’ve seen and know enough to realise that, Princess. You grant interviews, you pose for photographs, you attend all the parties and clubs where you know they’ll see you and assume the worst.’ He stared at her, hard, as if he was trying to strip away all her defenses and see right into her soul. ‘Why do you do it if you don’t like it?’

She said nothing, unwilling to be as honest as he’d been. She felt a pressure building in her chest and behind her eyes, and she was afraid what might happen if she gave in to it. If she said all the things she wanted to say. Because it’s the only way I know of being in control. Because I’ve been humiliated too many times and in too many ways and at least now it looks like I chose it. But I don’t want you to think I’m really like that … even if I am.

‘Natalia?’ Ben prompted, and she heard a thread of urgency in his voice. ‘Tell me.’

And she wondered if he knew what he was asking, if he sensed the truth. She shook her head, shrugged. ‘The press has its uses,’ she managed, and turned to pick up the bag of footballs, anything to keep her from revealing too much. Ben’s gaze alone was already far too knowing.

He didn’t speak for a long moment. Finally, her back still turned, she heard him say, ‘In any case this is just a quiet dinner at a discreet restaurant.’

‘Fine.’ Natalia turned back to him and forced a smile. She’d really enjoyed these past few days, getting dirty, playing with the kids, making Gabriella smile. Being real … and not being a princess. ‘I suppose I could dust off my tiara. This Friday, you said?’

Ben nodded. ‘I’ll pick you up at five.’

Ben watched as Natalia walked away from him, her chin tilted at that haughty angle, her back ramrod straight. Her defensive position. He knew it well. He went over the exchange they’d just had, wondering how he’d hurt her, for she surely was hurt, even if she’d never admit it.

She was a woman of secrets, he knew, secrets she had no intention of telling him or anyone else. He could tell when she wasn’t telling the truth, but he didn’t know what the truth was. And he wanted to.

This was dangerous, Ben knew. He was drawing closer to her even though he’d told himself not to. Swaying with her on the dance floor had been enough of a test of his self-control, but this was more. Worse. Seeing her trying her best on the football pitch, getting dirty, making the kids smile, giving him one of her mocking looks … all of it made him seek her out more and more.

This dinner was really just a pretext to spend time with her outside of camp, he knew. At least he was honest with himself about that. His clients might have mentioned wanting to meet the princess, but he could have deflected them, or brought them to the camp one day when everyone was there. He wanted her to come out with him. He wanted her, full stop.

And he didn’t know what to do about it. The wise and safe choice was to keep his distance, take her at face value, and let nothing shake his resolve or shatter his control.

Yet Ben didn’t feel like being safe any more. Or wise. He’d always lived a life of admirable and consistent restraint, and he was tired of it. He wanted Natalia with a fierceness he’d never felt before, a fierceness that felt right even though it terrified him.

This he could not control.

At five o’clock on Friday Natalia stood in front of the ornate full-length mirror in her room and gazed at her reflection. She’d toyed with the idea of wearing something like her silver spangled dress, short and outrageous, and then decided against it. She was tired of titillation. It had been her cover for so long, her way of keeping people from getting too close and guessing all of her deficiencies, but she didn’t want to do it tonight. She wasn’t sure she wanted to ever again.

And where, Natalia wondered, did that leave her? Who then could she be? She didn’t really have an answer. Sighing, she reached for a stunning diamond and emerald necklace that was part of her mother’s crown jewels. Made of twenty-four emeralds, each one surrounded by diamonds, the largest one at the center, nestling between her breasts, it was a magnificent piece of jewelry. Natalia had always thought it a bit ostentatious, not to mention heavy to wear, but she felt, for the sake of Ben’s clients, she’d better look every inch the princess tonight.

She paired the necklace with a starkly elegant cocktail dress in black silk that skimmed her curves and then flared out around her knees. The dress was elegant yet simple, making it a perfect backdrop for the necklace. She picked a pair of skyscraper heels with diamante straps to make the outfit a little less severe. A girl still had to have a little fun.

A knock sounded on her bedroom door, and her personal maid peeked in. ‘Mr Jackson is downstairs, Your Highness.’

‘Thank you, Ana.’ Natalia gave her reflection one more glance and, satisfied, reached for the silk fringed shawl and beaded clutch that matched her dress and headed downstairs.

Her breath dried in her throat at the sight of Ben in the palazzo’s soaring entrance hall. He wore a suit, just as he had at the engagement party and every day at the office, so there was no reason for him to look any different than before. Or for her to feel any different, and yet she did. Maybe it was the shared history they had now, or perhaps just this attraction she could no longer pretend to deny. Her gaze was helplessly drawn to his long, lithe body, the suit expertly tailored to showcase muscular legs, trim hips and powerful shoulders. The crisp white shirt and cobalt-blue silk tie emphasised the lean planes of his jaw and cheek, the steely blue of his eyes. He looked elegant and powerful, and it was an intoxicating combination.

Her legs felt a little trembly as she came down the marble staircase, Ben’s gaze intent upon her. He stretched out one hand towards her as she came to the last stair.

‘Good evening, Princess.’ For the first time her title didn’t feel like a mockery or sneer. It felt almost like an endearment. She smiled and took his hand.

‘Good evening.’

He nodded a farewell towards the liveried attendants standing sentry in the hall, and then led her out into the night. She felt a little bit like Cinderella, leaving the castle instead of going to it. And that was how she wanted it. As she breathed in the sultry night air she felt free. Free and maybe even happy, or at least something close to it.

‘So where are we going at such an unfashionably early hour?’ she asked as Ben opened the passenger door of his silver luxury model car.

‘Our dinner reservation is actually at eight. It’s going to take a little while to get there.’

‘A little while? You can drive the length of Santina in under two hours.’

Ben’s smile gleamed in the darkness as he started the car and drove smoothly down the palazzo’s curving drive and through the gates. ‘I never said we were going somewhere on Santina.’

His meaning was made clear when he pulled up to the island’s only airport fifteen minutes later. Natalia skidded to a halt in her stilettos as she stared at the tiny plane Ben had led her to in one remote corner of the airfield.

‘We’re going in that?’

‘My private jet,’ Ben said with just a touch of irony.

‘Let me tell you something, hotshot. For me, private jet means champagne, caviar and leather sofas. Not—’ She took a step forward so she could better inspect the plane. ‘A piece of cardboard and some chewing gum.’

‘I’ll have you know this is a Seabird Seeker 360, and it’s an amazing piece of equipment. It also cost four hundred thousand dollars.’

She folded her arms. ‘I’m sorry to say you got a very bad deal.’

‘Princess,’ Ben said with a thread of laughter in his voice, ‘are you scared?’

Natalia drew herself up and eyed the plane warily. ‘As a matter of fact,’ she told him, ‘yes. And not ashamed to admit it.’ For once.

Ben reached for one hand and lazily pulled her towards him. Natalia came reluctantly, more afraid to get so close to him than going up in that flimsy excuse for an airplane. ‘Come on, Natalia,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll keep you safe.’

And Natalia wondered if he was talking about flying in the Seabird, or something else entirely. Something far more important and frightening. Her heart thudded against her ribs and she managed a light laugh only with effort.

‘Let me see your pilot’s license.’

‘You don’t trust me?’ He was still holding her hand, the other hand resting lightly on her back, and he’d drawn her so close the hem of her dress brushed against his legs. She breathed in the now-familiar scent of his aftershave and felt, quite literally, dizzy.

‘Not an inch,’ she managed, and made herself draw back.

Ben let her go. ‘If you’re really scared, we can charter a bigger plane,’ he said, his tone turning serious. ‘I made sure there was one available.’

His thoughtfulness touched her, even though she didn’t want it to. She didn’t want this man to affect her, to slip under her defenses so easily, and yet right now, in the sultry darkness with him standing so close, she couldn’t quite summon one of her cutting remarks that had served her so well in the past. ‘Let me at least take a look at this thing,’ she said, and turned towards the plane.

It was very cozy. Two leather seats side by side in a cockpit, and glass all around. Flying in it would, Natalia thought, be amazing. If she let herself go. If she trusted Ben.

Why was that thought so scary, far more frightening than actually getting inside this piece of scrap metal?

‘Well?’ Ben asked. She’d clambered up so she was halfway into the cockpit, and she could sense Ben’s presence behind her, feel the heat of him.

‘I suppose it might be all right,’ she said grudgingly, and Ben let out a dry chuckle.

‘High praise from the princess. Get in.’ He put his hands on her hips and guided her into the low-slung seat, sending a flare of awareness and heat low through her pelvis. Yes, she thought, swallowing drily, this really was quite cozy.

Ben felt a jagged jolt of desire ricochet from his hands through his whole body. He couldn’t keep from touching her. He watched Natalia settle into her seat, and he could still feel the curve of her hips on his palms, imagine pulling her closer, fitting her to him.

He forced the thought away and slid into his own seat. ‘You sure you can fly this thing?’ she asked, and he slid her a knowing smile.

‘Watch me.’

‘Oh, I will.’

Was he imagining the wicked innuendo in her voice? He knew he felt it. Everything about this whole evening felt agonisingly charged, even more than the last time they’d been out together. For even with the ultimate distraction of Natalia sitting less than a foot away from him, her skin so smooth and golden, the dress hugging the curve of her breasts and the dip of her waist so lovingly, he realised something else. Something deeper.

He was happy.

When had he last felt this relaxed with a woman? When had he last enjoying just being with someone so much? He couldn’t remember. Maybe never. And even though the more rational part of his mind was insisting that this was Natalia, spoilt party princess whose exploits featured in nearly every tabloid, the rest of him wanted to drown out that nagging whine and just relax. Enjoy.

Be happy.

He started taxiing down the runway. Natalia gripped the leather armrest. ‘You’re not actually phobic, are you?’ he asked in genuine concern, and she gave him another one of her wicked looks.

‘A little late to ask me that, isn’t it?’

He let out a dry laugh. ‘I suppose so.’

‘Fortunately I’m not. I’m scared of plenty of things, but not flying. Although I’ve never flown in a tin can before, so I suppose I could nurture a bit of phobia if I put my mind to it.’

‘What are you afraid of then?’ Ben asked, genuinely curious.

Natalia shrugged. ‘The usual things. The dark, for one.’

‘The dark?’

She gave him an annoyed look. ‘I didn’t say I was completely phobic about it. I just don’t like being alone in a dark room.’

‘Do you have a night light?’ He spoke at least half teasingly, but she answered in seriousness.

‘I keep the bathroom light on.’

‘You’re not scared of the dark out there, are you?’ he said, nodding to the expanse of sky that was just starting to darken to violet.

Natalia let out a little hiss of breath. ‘No, of course not. I mean, the dark. Like a cupboard with no light at all.’

A cupboard? It sounded like she’d had some kind of bad experience. Ben decided not to press. He hadn’t meant to tease her; he just couldn’t imagine Natalia being afraid of anything. She seemed so fearless. ‘What else?’ he asked. The Seabird was gaining speed and Natalia didn’t answer as they took off into that endless stretch of sky, the horizon a vivid streak of magenta as the sun slid below the sea.

‘No, now it’s your turn,’ she said when the Seabird levelled out. ‘What are you afraid of?’

Ben flexed his hands on the controls and considered. ‘Something bad happening to someone in my family,’ he said at last.

Natalia rolled her eyes. ‘I could have told you that. You are a complete control freak. I’m sure you feel responsible for everyone in your family, even your parents.’

‘And that’s a bad thing?’ Ben asked drily, although in truth he felt a bit disconcerted by her perception.

‘I don’t know, I haven’t asked your family.’ She wiggled a little bit in her seat, getting comfortable, and Ben was momentarily distracted by the sight of her dress sliding around, that huge emerald swinging in the shadowy V between her breasts. ‘Anyway,’ she resumed, clearly more comfortable now, although Ben was decidedly not, ‘I mean, what are you really afraid of? Your deepest, darkest, most secret fear.’

He gave her an amused look, although he was definitely feeling uncomfortable in a whole variety of ways. ‘And why should I tell you that?’

She slid him a slyly challenging look from under her lashes. ‘Scared?’

‘No. I’m just not sure I want the next headline of the local rag to be Ben Jackson: The Truth About His Phobia of Spiders.’

She let out a little laugh, but it sounded brittle. He’d been teasing—sort of—but he had the feeling he’d hurt her with his deflective remark, bringing in the stupid press. Again. And all he’d been trying to do was take the glare of her scrutiny away from himself.

‘I don’t actually talk to the press that much,’ she said, staring out at the darkening sky. ‘Despite what you think. They make most of it up all on their own.’

‘I know they do.’ He didn’t really want to talk about her press coverage.

‘It’s just easier,’ she continued, a surprising tremble in her voice, ‘to try to control it. Or at least feel like you do. You know?’ She turned to face him, and he saw a new vulnerability shining in her eyes, making them glitter like sunlight off a puddle.

He stared at her, sifting her words, looking for truth. ‘Are you saying you seek that kind of publicity because it makes you feel better?’ he asked, and heard the blatant disbelief in his voice. As someone who had avoided that kind of attention forever, it seemed like an incredibly foolish thing to do.

She stared back at him, her eyes shadowed. Guarded. ‘That and I can’t get enough of seeing myself in the papers,’ she said lightly, and Ben knew she wasn’t telling the truth. She was hiding behind another cutting, self-deprecating remark because that was what she did. Everyone had their defense mechanisms, their ways to stay safe. Natalia’s just happened to be very different than his.

Her expression lightened and she gave him a challenging smile, all traces of vulnerability gone. ‘You know what I think you’re scared of?’

He eyed her in wary bemusement. ‘What?’

‘Of being scared.’

‘The only thing we have to fear is fear itself?’ he quoted drily.