Why was that thought so scary, far more frightening than actually getting inside this piece of scrap metal?
‘Well?' Ben asked. She'd clambered up so she was halfway into the cockpit, and she could sense Ben's presence behind her, feel the heat of him.
‘I suppose it might be all right,' she said grudgingly, and Ben let out a dry chuckle.
‘High praise from the princess. Get in.' He put his hands on her hips and guided her into the low-slung seat, sending a flare of awareness and heat low through her pelvis. Yes, she thought, swallowing drily, this really was quite cozy.
* * *
Ben felt a jagged jolt of desire ricochet from his hands through his whole body. He couldn't keep from touching her. He watched Natalia settle into her seat, and he could still feel the curve of her hips on his palms, imagine pulling her closer, fitting her to him.
He forced the thought away and slid into his own seat. ‘You sure you can fly this thing?' she asked, and he slid her a knowing smile.
‘Watch me.'
‘Oh, I will.'
Was he imagining the wicked innuendo in her voice? He knew he felt it. Everything about this whole evening felt
agonisingly charged, even more than the last time they'd been out together. For even with the ultimate distraction of Natalia sitting less than a foot away from him, her skin so smooth and golden, the dress hugging the curve of her breasts and the dip of her waist so lovingly, he realised something else. Something deeper.
He was happy.
When had he last felt this relaxed with a woman? When had he last enjoying just being with someone so much? He couldn't remember. Maybe never. And even though the more rational part of his mind was insisting that this was Natalia, spoilt party princess whose exploits featured in nearly every tabloid, the rest of him wanted to drown out that nagging whine and just relax. Enjoy.
Be happy.
He started taxiing down the runway. Natalia gripped the leather armrest. ‘You're not actually phobic, are you?' he asked in genuine concern, and she gave him another one of her wicked looks.
‘A little late to ask me that, isn't it?'
He let out a dry laugh. ‘I suppose so.'
‘Fortunately I'm not. I'm scared of plenty of things, but not flying. Although I've never flown in a tin can before, so I suppose I could nurture a bit of phobia if I put my mind to it.'
‘What are you afraid of then?' Ben asked, genuinely curious.
Natalia shrugged. ‘The usual things. The dark, for one.'
‘The dark?'
She gave him an annoyed look. ‘I didn't say I was completely phobic about it. I just don't like being alone in a dark room.'
‘Do you have a night light?' He spoke at least half teasingly, but she answered in seriousness.
‘I keep the bathroom light on.'
‘You're not scared of the dark out there, are you?' he said, nodding to the expanse of sky that was just starting to darken to violet.
Natalia let out a little hiss of breath. ‘No, of course not. I mean, the dark. Like a cupboard with no light at all.'
A cupboard? It sounded like she'd had some kind of bad experience. Ben decided not to press. He hadn't meant to tease her; he just couldn't imagine Natalia being afraid of anything. She seemed so fearless. ‘What else?' he asked. The Seabird was gaining speed and Natalia didn't answer as they took off into that endless stretch of sky, the horizon a vivid streak of magenta as the sun slid below the sea.
‘No, now it's your turn,' she said when the Seabird levelled out. ‘What are you afraid of?'
Ben flexed his hands on the controls and considered. ‘Something bad happening to someone in my family,' he said at last.
Natalia rolled her eyes. ‘I could have told you that. You are a complete control freak. I'm sure you feel responsible for everyone in your family, even your parents.'
‘And that's a bad thing?' Ben asked drily, although in truth he felt a bit disconcerted by her perception.
‘I don't know, I haven't asked your family.' She wiggled a little bit in her seat, getting comfortable, and Ben was momentarily distracted by the sight of her dress sliding around, that huge emerald swinging in the shadowy V between her breasts. ‘Anyway,' she resumed, clearly more comfortable now, although Ben was decidedly not, ‘I mean, what are you really afraid of? Your deepest, darkest, most secret fear.'
He gave her an amused look, although he was definitely feeling uncomfortable in a whole variety of ways. ‘And why should I tell you that?'
She slid him a slyly challenging look from under her lashes. ‘Scared?'
‘No. I'm just not sure I want the next headline of the local rag to be Ben Jackson: The Truth About His Phobia of Spiders.'
She let out a little laugh, but it sounded brittle. He'd been teasing-sort of-but he had the feeling he'd hurt her with his deflective remark, bringing in the stupid press. Again. And all he'd been trying to do was take the glare of her scrutiny away from himself.
‘I don't actually talk to the press that much,' she said, staring out at the darkening sky. ‘Despite what you think. They make most of it up all on their own.'
‘I know they do.' He didn't really want to talk about her press coverage.
‘It's just easier,' she continued, a surprising tremble in her voice, ‘to try to control it. Or at least feel like you do. You know?' She turned to face him, and he saw a new vulnerability shining in her eyes, making them glitter like sunlight off a puddle.
He stared at her, sifting her words, looking for truth. ‘Are you saying you seek that kind of publicity because it makes you feel better?' he asked, and heard the blatant disbelief in his voice. As someone who had avoided that kind of attention forever, it seemed like an incredibly foolish thing to do.
She stared back at him, her eyes shadowed. Guarded. ‘That and I can't get enough of seeing myself in the papers,' she said lightly, and Ben knew she wasn't telling the truth. She was hiding behind another cutting, self-deprecating remark because that was what she did. Everyone had their defense mechanisms, their ways to stay safe. Natalia's just happened to be very different than his.
Her expression lightened and she gave him a challenging smile, all traces of vulnerability gone. ‘You know what I think you're scared of?'
He eyed her in wary bemusement. ‘What?'
‘Of being scared.'
‘The only thing we have to fear is fear itself?' he quoted drily.
‘Roosevelt said it better, I suppose, but it's still true. You're afraid of feeling weak and out of control and helpless.'
Ben's hand tightened on the controls. He felt as if she'd just flayed him alive with her words, her perception. ‘I didn't know you were such a history buff,' he finally said, and she laughed softly.
‘I'm not the only one who likes to deflect personal questions, I see.'
‘Well, that was really quite personal.'
‘And true.'
‘So why are you scared of the dark?' he asked, and felt Natalia tense. Amazed at how attuned he was to her moods and her body. He glanced at her, saw the strap of her dress had fallen a little down one golden shoulder. Yes, definitely her body.
‘Does there have to be a reason?'
‘There usually is.'
‘Why are you scared of being scared?' she shot back, and suddenly Ben burst out laughing.
‘Oh, Princess,' he said, ‘maybe we should change the subject. Two guarded people asking each other invasive questions is surely a recipe for disaster.'
‘Or at least a few awkward pauses,' Natalia agreed with a little laugh of her own. ‘Fine. How long have you had your pilot's license?'
‘I never actually said I had my pilot's license.'
She widened her eyes in mock horror. ‘You lied to me?'
‘Five years.'
‘Why do you like flying?'
‘This is starting to get personal, Princess.'
‘Really? That's personal? You are quite the closed book.'
‘So are you.' He slid her a thoughtful look. ‘A lot more closed than I thought.' With more secrets and depths than he'd realised. Or even wanted.
She turned away from him and he could see the curve of her cheek, the angle of her jaw. In profile she seemed softer somehow. Vulnerable. He felt that protective tug again and resented it. They should stop this conversation. He didn't actually want to get close with someone like Natalia.
Did he?
Yet as the darkness of the sky and sea stretched out in front of them, Ben realised he didn't know what he wanted any more.