Scandals Of The Famous: The Scandalous Princess

‘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?’

‘Of course.’

She’d taken off her ridiculous little hat and fitted jacket, so she wore only a cream silk sheath that lovingly hugged her slender curves. Ben watched her wind her way onto the dance floor with a kick of lust, and then he eyed the heaving crowds with definite reluctance. Yet surely it was better than remaining in the seductive darkness of the restaurant’s terrace, listening to the throaty sound of her laughter, watching the setting sun touch her skin with gold. Just enjoying being with her, more than with any other woman he’d ever known.

No, this was much better. Ben knew he’d enjoyed today far too much. Wanted Natalia—in so many ways—far too much. It made him reckless and weak, two characteristics he despised. Two characteristics he associated with his father … and his mother’s heartbreak.

Yet even now he knew his self-control was slipping, notch by notch, until surely nothing would keep him from pulling her into his arms and losing himself in her as he was all too desperate to do.

Smiling grimly, he followed her out onto the dance floor where the writhing crowds would surely allow them both to keep their distance.

Natalia regretted taking Ben to the club as soon as they walked through the doors. The lights, the music, the noise—all of it was awful, and even though she’d been here a dozen times, she didn’t want to be here with Ben. A place like this would only reinforce the unflattering assumptions he’d made about her. And really, Natalia thought as she turned to smile at him on the dance floor, she wanted to be alone with him, not hemmed in by a sweaty and indifferent crowd.

It surprised and even touched her that Ben had gone along with all of her plans today, that he was dancing even now, and she saw, he was actually a very good dancer. She would have expected a man like him—business-minded, focused and controlled—to move stiffly on the dance floor, or if she were honest, to sit on a bar stool and scroll through his emails on his BlackBerry.