Sarah Morgan - Scandals Of The Famous - The Scandalous Princess

‘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.

‘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.