Santina's Scandalous Princess(9)

Yet today when she'd leaned across his desk and he'd seen the T-shirt  stretch across her breasts, when he breathed in the citrusy scent of her  perfume, something clean and fresh he hadn't expected, when his gaze  was inevitably drawn to her again and again, he felt more than just a  normal kick of lust. He felt a deeper twist of longing he wasn't ready  to acknowledge, much less feel. When he saw the flash of vulnerability  in her eyes, when her pointed quips made him want to smile, when he  enjoyed her company … he felt that longing inside of him twist harder and  start to snap.

Control. He was losing it. He didn't want to want this woman. In any  way. He had enough to do arranging this camp, managing his own business  and making sure his siblings stayed on a steady course. He didn't need  the complication of a woman-any woman, but especially one as dangerously  high-profile as Princess Natalia.

Far better to steer clear of her except in the office, or he'd see  himself splashed across the tabloids like the rest of his family, and  that was the last thing he wanted.

Straightening, he pulled a sheaf of papers towards him and determined to  work for the rest of the afternoon-and not give the aggravating  princess another thought.

He stayed in his office until after seven, immersed in his work. He  heard the muted farewells of the others leaving, the sound of the door  closing, when he decided to finish up back at the beach house he'd  rented for his time on the island. His equilibrium mostly restored, Ben  grabbed his attaché and opened his office door, stopping abruptly when  he saw Natalia still bent over the filing cabinet.                      
      
          



      

The first thing he noticed was the way her skirt pulled across the  rounded curve of her bottom. Then he jerked his gaze upwards and  realised she was still filing away. The thought shocked him, for if she  was still here it meant she hadn't been slow on purpose. So what was  really going on? Ben had no idea, but this perplexing insight into the  woman he wanted to dismiss made him pause. Frown.

She straightened and, seeming to sense his presence, turned. Ben noticed  her guarded expression, her eyes veiled before she tilted her head and  gave him a flirty smile. That was the expression he was used to seeing,  yet it didn't ring true right now.

‘You didn't have to stay late.'

Natalia lifted one slender shoulder in a shrug. ‘I wanted to get the job  done.' She glanced at the remaining few files. ‘I've decided I despise  filing.'

‘It is a bit tedious.'

‘That too.' She tucked a strand of wheat-blonde hair behind her ear and turned back to the cabinet.

Ben saw how stiff her shoulders were, her whole body nearly vibrating  with tension. She also looked exhausted, and to his own shock he found  himself saying, ‘Let me finish it.'

‘I can do it-' she insisted, surprisingly fierce, but Ben had already  slotted the remaining files into the cabinet and closed the drawer. It  had taken less than a minute. Why, he wondered, had it taken her hours?  Surely even the most incompetent person could manage it quicker than  that. Yet looking at her drawn face and shadowed eyes he didn't think it  had been some kind of revenge. She'd actually, in her own way, been  trying.

‘So you finished your first day,' he said lightly. He had come to stand  quite close to her in order to finish the filing, and he was conscious  of her slender form, the sweep of her satiny cheek, the way her chest  rose and fell. He took a step back. ‘Congratulations.'

She gave him a sharp look, reminding him, to his relief, of the spoilt  princess he'd encountered at the engagement party. ‘Much to your  disappointment, I'm sure.'

‘I wouldn't say that.'

‘I would. You made this bet in order to see me fail.' She spoke flatly,  without her usually lilting playfulness, and Ben found he missed it.

‘I made this bet-' he began, then stopped. Why had he insisted she  volunteer for him for a month? His own kind of revenge for her being the  kind of partying, publicity-seeking princess she was? Or to teach her a  lesson? Or something far more dangerous-because he wanted to see her  again, wanted to be near her? He didn't like any of the choices.

‘Cat got your tongue?' Natalia jibed softly. ‘Never mind. One day down,  twenty-nine to go.' She turned to fetch her coat but Ben got there  first, holding it up for her. ‘So I can hang up my own coat but not put  it back on?' she mocked, yet he sensed a brittle edge to her tone, to  her whole self, that he hadn't heard before. It made him wonder what  would happen when that brittle edge cracked. What was underneath?

She slipped her arms into the sleeves and as his fingers brushed her  shoulders he felt her twang with awareness, her body as taut as a  tightly strung bow. He also felt the answering jolt of lust ricochet  through his own body, so strong it took all his self-control to release  her.

‘Let's call a truce for the evening,' he said, and she turned, close enough to him that her hair brushed his cheek as she moved.

‘Are you serious? Where's the fun in that?'

‘I'm not sure. But keeping up with you is exhausting, Princess.'

‘Of course it is,' she replied tartly. ‘I move fast.' She swept past him  to the door, and Ben was left wondering if she'd been warning him-or  putting herself down. She'd sounded almost bitter.

‘Let me buy you a drink,' he suggested, ‘since we both survived.' The  invitation shocked him. The last thing he wanted was to appear in public  with Princess Natalia. The press would go wild photographing them, with  all the accompanying gossip and speculation. Exactly the kind of thing  he despised.

Except right now all he could think about was what he wanted. Natalia  stared at him, her eyes wide, moist pink lips parted, and lust jolted  him again, as if he'd stuck his finger in an electric socket. Going out  with Natalia-even if only for a drink-was surely just as dangerous and  foolish a thing to do.

Almost as if she sensed the nature of his thoughts, her eyes flashed  fire and she buttoned up her coat. ‘I never say no to a drink,' she  said, and walked out the door.





CHAPTER FOUR

NATALIA decided to take Ben to a trendy, high-end wine bar near the  market square, one of her regular haunts. She could have gone somewhere  more discreet, where she wouldn't be noticed, but some childish impulse  in her made her choose the more obvious place, although whether she  wanted to prove Ben right about her or just annoy him she couldn't say.  The moment they arrived the waiter fawned over her, stammering in his  nervous haste.                      
      
          



      

‘Princess Natalia! I didn't realise you might be gracing us with your presence tonight. Your usual table?'

She waved a hand airily. ‘Thank you, Paulo, but perhaps something in the  back this time.' Her usual table was in the front window, perfect for  the paparazzi, but she had a feeling Ben would balk at that. She could  show some consideration. She glanced back at Ben, expecting his eyes to  have narrowed and lips thinned in disapproval at her notoriety, but his  expression was unreadable. ‘They know who I am here,' she explained  flippantly, and he arched an eyebrow.

‘So it appears.'

The waiter led them to a discreet table in the back, tucked in its own  corner, and two more waiters descended on them with bowls of olives and  nuts.

Ben took the proffered wine list and scanned it blandly, giving Natalia a  chance to study him. She nibbled on a nut-in the end she hadn't  actually eaten much of the fabulous lunch and she was starving-and gazed  at him from under her lashes.

He really was a most attractive man. His hair, light brown and cut quite  short, emphasised the hard planes of his cheekbones and jaw. Funny how  brown hair and blue eyes-both so ordinary-could look so amazing, so  assured and masculine on this one man. Also amazing was the way her body  responded to the whole of his features, her heart rate kicking up so  she felt nearly breathless.

He glanced up, caught her staring and gave her an all-too-knowing smile.  In the dim light his navy eyes glinted almost blackly. ‘Any  preference?' he asked, indicating the wine list.

‘How about champagne?' Natalia suggested, and from the way his eyes  narrowed she knew Ben was thinking of the bottle of wine at lunch.

‘Champagne, it is.' No sooner had he closed the wine list than a waiter  hurried to serve them. ‘A bottle of your best champagne,' Ben said  blandly, and Natalia arched an eyebrow.

‘Do you know how much that will cost?' she asked after the waiter had  left and Ben sat back in his chair, scanning the well-heeled crowd  around them.