tugged her hand from his own. This was way too dangerous.
Ben took a step back, raked a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. She really wasn’t into all that macho male stuff—she’d always preferred men to be well-groomed and elegant—but right now she didn’t think she’d seen anything half as sexy as Ben Jackson in his muddy football kit. ‘Actually,’ he said, ‘you were amazing today.’
Natalia tried to ignore the rush of emotion his sincere praise caused to blaze through her. Emotion was just as dangerous as passion, maybe even more so. She didn’t get close to anyone, not physically, not emotionally. She’d learned those lessons, at least. Yet right now Ben was breaching all of her defenses, leaving her completely exposed and wanting, and that knowledge made her go on the attack. ‘That must have hurt,’ she mocked, and he simply raised his eyebrows in query. ‘Giving me a genuine compliment,’ she clarified tartly.
‘Actually, it didn’t feel half bad.’
‘High praise indeed then.’
He shook his head, smiling ruefully. ‘You never let up, do you?’
No. Never. ‘Would you really want me to?’ she quipped, meaning it to be a throwaway remark, but she knew immediately that Ben had taken it all too seriously. From the shadow in his eyes, the way his lips thinned, she realised he was as wary of getting close as she was.
Why did that hurt?
Surely it should have only brought relief.
‘I don’t know about that, Princess,’ he finally said, and Natalia knew from his lazy tone that he was playing this as she was. Light. Safe. ‘I told you you were exhausting.’
‘And I told you I move fast. Now I need to get back and shower up. I have a very important dinner engagement.’
She saw his expression harden and knew he was thinking about her reputation, the salacious reports of her behavior in the tabloids. That tell-all affair she’d supposedly had. Natalia smiled grimly. She’d agreed to the affair, just not the tell-all part. And that was surely another reason to steer clear of Ben Jackson. She didn’t do close. She didn’t let people in. She wasn’t about to get her heart broken. Again.
‘You’d better get going then,’ he said, his tone turning cool as he swept one arm towards the gates of the stadium. ‘Your driver must be waiting.’
No doubt he was envisioning just what she might she get up to tonight, and all she had was another boring dinner with foreign dignitaries intent on sizing her up like a side of meat.
‘I’m sure he is,’ she agreed, her tone as cool as his. Yet she didn’t move. She had a crazy impulse to blurt something out to him, something she knew she would instantly regret. You don’t know me. I’m not like that. At least, I don’t want to be. She pressed her lips together, hardened her heart and walked past him.
‘Have a nice night, Princess.’ Ben’s drawl seemed to follow her right out to the stadium’s car park and the waiting car. And she still heard his mocking voice in her head all the way back to the palazzo.
‘I HAVE a favour to ask of you.’
Natalia glanced up from the net bag of footballs she’d been collecting. It was the end of the third day of camp, and she felt as limp as a wet rag. She’d always worked out, but being on a football pitch for eight hours a day promised a whole new level of fitness.
‘A favour?’ she said, arching her eyebrows. It was the second week of camp, and she hadn’t talked to Ben much outside of working hours. When she did she kept it light and mocking. Safe. ‘I bet you don’t like that.’
‘Why wouldn’t I?’
‘I doubt you like asking favours of anyone.’
He frowned, considering this. It was one thing Natalia had learned and liked about him: he thought about things. Seriously. He wasn’t dismissive. Except, perhaps, of her. ‘I don’t suppose I do,’ he finally admitted.
‘Especially of me.’
‘Don’t put yourself down, Princess.’
‘Actually,’ she said tartly, ‘I was putting you down.’ She drew the drawstring closed on the bag and tossed it with the others. The pitch was empty, the other volunteers having trickled away. She was conscious of the looming space all around them, the emptiness.
‘Seriously,’ Ben said. ‘A favour.’
Natalia folded her arms. ‘Okay. Tell me.’
‘I have a client dinner on Friday,’ Ben said. He sounded hesitant, which was a first. Natalia wasn’t used to seeing him anything but arrogantly assured. ‘They’re interested in supporting these camps, making it more of a joint effort.’
‘That’s good, isn’t it?’
Ben nodded. ‘Their support would help to take the camps to the next level. Expand across Europe, maybe South America and Asia.’
‘I always knew you were ambitious.’
‘It would be great for the kids,’ Ben said, and she saw a shadow of vulnerability in his eyes. This meant something to him, she realised. It meant a lot. ‘All right,’ she said quietly. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Come to the dinner with me. My clients want to meet you, and it would be great publicity for the camp.’
Natalia knew she could make any number of quips about how Ben really did want publicity after all, but suddenly she didn’t feel like it. ‘Want to meet me?’ she echoed.
‘They’ve heard of you.’
‘Who hasn’t?’ she said drily, but she felt a little knife-twist of disappointment. She didn’t want to play the princess to Ben’s starstruck clients. She didn’t want to play the princess at all. ‘You realise,’ she said after a moment, ‘you might not get the kind of publicity you’re looking for.’
‘I’m aware of that,’ Ben said evenly, and the knife twisted a little more. She knew he didn’t mean to judge her, but he still was. At least, it felt like he was.
‘Of course you are,’ she agreed, and Ben’s expression didn’t flicker.
‘I don’t like the press,’ he said quietly, a confession. ‘I never have. I’ve seen the cost of it on too many people in my family. Especially my mother, after my father—well, I’m sure you know what my father did.’ His mouth twisted, and Natalia knew how hard it was for him to admit this. Or anything.
‘I don’t know all he did, because I don’t read the tabloids as thoroughly as you clearly do,’ she said, keeping her voice light. ‘But I did hear that he wasn’t exactly faithful.’
‘Right.’ He let out a slow, shuddering breath. ‘And his philandering generated a great deal of press. That’s why I jumped to conclusions when they snapped a photo of us coming out of the restaurant—I’ve lived with that kind of thing all my life.’
‘So have I,’ Natalia returned quietly, and Ben frowned.
‘But you go after it. I’ve seen and know enough to realise that, Princess. You grant interviews, you pose for photographs, you attend all the parties and clubs where you know they’ll see you and assume the worst.’ He stared at her, hard, as if he was trying to strip away all her defenses and see right into her soul. ‘Why do you do it if you don’t like it?’
She said nothing, unwilling to be as honest as he’d been. She felt a pressure building in her chest and behind her eyes, and she was afraid what might happen if she gave in to it. If she said all the things she wanted to say. Because it’s