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Santina's Scandalous Princess(17)

By:Kate Hewitt


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.

But Ben moved with arrogant grace, his eyes glinting as if he knew  exactly what she was thinking, Which he probably did. The man possessed  an uncanny ability to read her mind. Know her heart.

Swallowing, Natalia looked away. Even amidst the safety of a crowd, she  felt this magnetic pull, this insane craving to pull him closer, to lose  herself in him. And if she did that … what would be left?

A few minutes after they started dancing the music suddenly changed to a  low, lazy tune that had everyone pulling partners close. Natalia  hesitated, half-wanting to run off the dance floor rather than face the  fierce temptation of slow dancing with Ben. Or what if he walked off the  floor first? He may have wanted to kiss her on a bet, but that didn't  mean he wanted to dance with her. Be with her.

But already he was pulling her towards him, his hands firm on her hips,  fingers splayed along her backside as he nestled her close against him.  His lips brushed her hair as her arms twined round his neck almost of  their own accord, so desperate was she for this contact. This closeness.

Natalia was barely aware of the music as she felt Ben's body against her  own: his thigh against her hip, the evidence of his arousal pressing  into her middle, his jaw almost touching her lips. Her body felt as if  it were buzzing with awareness, pulsing with need. She pulled him  closer, let her lips brush the stubble on his jaw, inhaled the clean,  male scent of him as her senses swam and she heard-and felt-Ben shudder  in response.

It felt so natural, so obvious to angle her head for the kiss they'd  denied themselves all day. The kiss they surely both craved. Natalia's  lips parted and Ben's mouth hovered above her own as she waited, aching,  her whole body crying out for him to touch her.

‘It could be a draw,' she whispered, her mouth so close to his they were  almost-almost-kissing anyway. Her fingers curled round his shoulders as  she swayed, not to the music, but from the desire flooding through her  in a relentless river, sweeping her senses along with it. ‘We both  control the kiss,' she clarified huskily. She felt Ben's hands tighten  on her hips, his fingers so strong and sure. ‘We both win.'

She saw his lips curve in an answering smile, felt him pull her even  closer, her breasts pressed against his chest, but he didn't bend his  head. Didn't kiss her. Natalia flicked her gaze upwards, and although he  was still smiling-a little-she saw the struggle in his eyes. The  frustration, and maybe even the anger. Or was it despair?

Whatever stormy emotion battled in his eyes, it was one Natalia wished she hadn't seen. Wished Ben didn't feel.                      
      
          



      

He didn't want to kiss her.

Oh, he wanted her all right, wanted her perhaps as desperately as she  wanted him. But he didn't want to want her, and that thought made sudden  tears sting her eyes. With effort, despite the desire still coursing  treacherously through her, she made herself pull away from him and  walked off the dance floor.

* * *

Ben felt Natalia slip away from him and he cursed under his breath. He'd  been so close to kissing her. So close to giving in, letting himself be  swept away like he never had before. He knew, instinctively,  elementally, that kissing Natalia would be like that. Kissing Natalia  would change him, and he didn't want to be changed.

He should be relieved she'd broken it before he did, but he wasn't. He  was annoyed and disappointed and incredibly sexually frustrated. Raking a  hand through his hair, he followed her off the dance floor, searching  the crowds for her familiar lithe frame.

He found her by the coat check, slipping on her snug little jacket. ‘Is  the fun over, then?' he asked lightly, and she didn't look at him as she  answered.

‘It most certainly is.'

Ben felt a flicker of guilty regret along with every other emotion  twisting inside him and frying his brain. Why did this woman make him  feel so much? He wasn't used to it. Didn't like it. Couldn't have it.

Yet he knew in that moment on the dance floor he'd hurt her somehow.  Maybe she'd sensed his reluctance. Maybe-and this thought actually  frightened him-she understood him better than he thought.