Scandals Of The Famous. Кейт Хьюит
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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