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Santina's Scandalous Princess(33)



The papers.

Why hadn't the newspapers, the tabloids, mentioned anything about  Natalia's forthcoming marriage? Why hadn't King Eduardo announced it at  Allegra's party three weeks ago? Why had he never heard a whisper of it  all this time?                      
      
          



      

Because it wasn't real. It wasn't happening. Not yet anyway.

His breath released in a shuddering rush as realisations clicked into  place. Natalia had told him this wasn't easy for her. He knew she was  afraid. He understood that last night had been both wonderful and  frightening for her, that the vulnerability of even an orgasm had shaken  her.

And when she'd snatched the first excuse she could to allow her to walk  out of here, he, frightened fool that he was, had believed her.

Ben straightened and smiled grimly. Natalia wasn't going to get off that easily. Not by a long shot.

* * *

She hadn't thought through things. Natalia realised that as soon as she  returned back to the palazzo, having texted Enrico to pick her up. The  chauffeur didn't pass any judgements, but she could tell something was  going on. Something was wrong.

So much was wrong. She leaned her head against the seat and closed her  eyes, exhaustion and misery swamping her. She saw Ben's shocked face in  her mind's eye and felt a rush of guilt as well. Yet she'd spoken the  truth. She was going to be married, if not quite as soon as she made  out. This thought only added to her unhappiness.

Yet the fact that she'd only told him about her possible marriage  because she'd been afraid of what was happening between them needled  her, burrowed under her skin, a

jagged splinter that she could not ignore or remove.

She felt the tension snap through the air as soon as she entered the  palazzo. One of her mother's staff swooped down on her as soon as she  arrived, informing her that Queen Zoe requested her presence  immediately.

Natalia hurried to her bedroom and changed into a mint-green linen dress  and matching high-heeled espadrilles. She could hardly face her mother  in Ben's T-shirt and shorts … even if she couldn't resist pressing them to  her face, as if she could still catch the faint scent of him, before  dropping them determinedly in the corner of the room.

‘Where have you been?' Queen Zoe demanded icily as Natalia entered her room.

‘I'm sure Enrico told you,' Natalia replied. She was surprised at how  calm she felt. Her confrontation with Ben had sapped all of her  emotional reserves. He'd taken everything.

‘He said,' Zoe informed her, ‘that he drove you to Mr Jackson's house.'

‘Yes.'

‘And you returned to the palazzo this morning.'

Natalia met her mother's narrowed gaze evenly. ‘Yes.'

‘Natalia, this behaviour … ' Her mother shook her head, her outrage turning to genuine distress. ‘It must stop.'

‘It has,' Natalia said, even though she knew she and her mother were  really talking about completely different things. ‘It's over.'

‘Because,' Queen Zoe continued, her voice hardening once more, ‘the  Sheikh Prince of Qadirah has made an official offer. He is arriving this  week to arrange the contractual details. As soon as those are settled,  your marriage will be announced.'

* * *

Somehow Natalia dragged herself through the next few days. She kept  mostly to her room, avoiding the flurry of activity the imminent arrival  of the Prince of Qadirah seemed to cause. She tried not to think of  Ben, but her mind-and body-betrayed her, both remembering how sweetly he  had kissed her. Loved her.

And if she'd only had a little more courage she could have stayed. She'd  have told him everything, and maybe … maybe they could have worked  something out.

She knew the thought was foolish, the hope vain. She was about to be  married. Even if she'd stayed, even if she'd trusted Ben, they would  only have had a few more hours at best. A single morning. And maybe not  even that.

Even if she wasn't getting married, Natalia reminded herself, Ben had  never actually said he'd loved her. I recognise that we have something  between us-something I've never had with anyone else-and I'm willing to  keep at it, see if it works. Not exactly a promise to build a dream on. A  life on. What if he had decided it wasn't working? What if this time he  didn't push her off his lap, but out of his life?

Perhaps, Natalia told herself as she prepared to go to camp on Monday  morning, this was better. It was certainly safer. A marriage with the  Sheikh of Qadirah would be cordial, convivial perhaps, but they would  essentially lead separate lives, especially once she'd provided an heir.  That much had been made clear to her by the ambassador. There would be  no intimacy, no vulnerability, no knowing. And that, she told herself  resolutely, was a good thing. Even if it didn't feel like it was.

By the time Natalia arrived at camp a few days later she'd pushed all  these thoughts away, had blanked her mind and her heart. It was surely  the only way to get through the day.                      
      
          



      

Ben was busy on the pitch when Natalia arrived at the stadium. She made  sure to keep away from him, helping out at the registration table, not  looking at him as he issued orders. Perhaps she could get through this  day without actually talking to him. The thought brought both sorrow and  relief.

Of course she should have known Ben would never let her off so easily.  He called her to him at the centre of the pitch late in the morning, the  children gathered all around.

‘Princess Natalia and I will demonstrate how to guard the goal,' Ben  said in his careful Italian, a football in his hands. ‘An important  skill, no matter what position you are playing. Sometimes in a match the  goalkeeper is injured and another player has to substitute, so it's  always worth knowing how to do it.' He nodded towards Natalia. ‘Princess  Natalia will act as goalkeeper first.'

Fabulous. Just about the last thing she wanted was Ben kicking the  football straight at her. Her head held high, Natalia marched towards  the goal area and turned to face Ben. His face was grimly set, his eyes  blazing determination, and she braced herself for a hard kick aimed at  her head.

She should have known better than that. She should have known Ben better  than that. He punted a soft kick straight to her feet, ridiculously  simple for even her to trap.

‘Now that's not going to happen too often,' Ben told the children with a  smile. ‘When players want to score a goal, they're going to kick hard.  They're going to give it everything they've got, and you have to brace  yourselves for that.' He turned back to Natalia, and she tensed.  ‘Ready?' he asked her, and tersely she nodded.

He kicked the ball hard, but not too hard. With taut effort she was able  to keep it from getting in the goal. Ben turned back to the children.  ‘Now Princess Natalia really wants to keep me from scoring,' he said  with a smile, although Natalia detected a slight edge to his voice. ‘But  sometimes, when a football is coming straight at you, and all you can  see is that hard and fast-moving ball, you're scared. That's  understandable. You're afraid to commit to the maneuver.'

Natalia tensed again. She had a feeling Ben was talking about something  more than football. Something a whole lot more personal. He raised his  voice so every child could hear. So she could hear. ‘That's when you've  got to be brave,' he said. ‘That's when you've got to give this game  everything you've got.'

Tears stung Natalia's eyes. She hadn't been brave. She'd been so afraid,  but it was too late. The game was over for them, even if Ben didn't  realise it.

‘Now,' Ben said, ‘it's my turn. Princess Natalia will kick the ball to  me.' As he passed her the football, he murmured, ‘Kick it to the outside  post, if you can.'

Natalia had no idea what he was getting at now, but she nodded. She  thought she could manage that. She turned to face Ben, saw him prepare  for the kick, his muscular body taut and achingly beautiful.

‘Sometimes,' he said, his gaze fastened to hers, boring into her soul,  ‘you've got to let yourself really go. More than you ever would. More  than you want to.' He nodded at her, and she kicked the ball to the  corner of the goal.

Ben dived for it, the extension elegant and total, his body nearly  parallel to the ground, his arms outstretched. He was completely  committed to the dive. Everyone watched in awe as he caught the ball and  fell to the ground, landing on his shoulder and side before rolling  into a sitting position. He turned to the crowd of children with a  triumphant smile.

‘You see? I didn't even get hurt. At least, not more than a little.' His  gaze moved to Natalia, settled on her with unmistakable emphasis. ‘But  it was worth it.'