through him. He could handle it, Ben told himself. He could handle her. ‘I look forward to it,’ he murmured, and put out his hand for her to shake. He wanted to touch her. ‘So we’re agreed?’
Defiantly Natalia took his hand, and Ben saw her react to the touch of his fingers enfolding hers, saw it in the flaring of her eyes, that little hitch of breath. Then she smiled as if she hadn’t a care in the world. ‘It’s a deal.’
‘WHAT?’ Natalia heard the outraged screech of her own voice echo against the walls of her father’s audience chamber. He did too, obviously, for he winced slightly even as he lifted a paper from an ornate end table and scanned it with seemingly little interest.
‘Please lower your voice, Natalia, and conduct yourself as a princess.’
Natalia nearly shook with disbelief—and anger. ‘And princesses,’ she asked, ‘spend their days coaching football for the ragtag children of—’
‘These children,’ King Eduardo reminded her coldly, ‘are the citizens of your country. You have a duty to them.’
‘A duty to teach them football?’ Natalia was quite sure her father and mother’s duty did not extend much beyond the palazzo walls, unless it was making a speech or giving a little royal wave.
King Eduardo sighed and dropped the paper, turning to Natalia as if she were really rather wearying. It had already irritated her that he’d called her to him in this audience chamber, an ancient and ornate room that was meant for commoners to present their petitions to their king, not conversations within the family. Standing in front of him, the royal throne decked out in gold leaf between them, she felt at a distinct disadvantage. Still, she hadn’t expected this.
‘Natalia, the truth of the matter is, I think volunteering could be beneficial for you—’
‘Beneficial—’
‘Let me speak,’ Eduardo said sharply, and Natalia, chastened, fell silent. She could not afford to anger her father now. ‘You have been running around for far too long, living an inappropriate and extravagant lifestyle. I was willing to overlook it because of your impending marriage to Prince Michel, but since he has broken the engagement—causing some significant humiliation to our family—I see that other measures need to be taken.’
Natalia bit her lip, hard, to keep from speaking. She knew she’d been pushing the boundaries of her parents’ acceptance with her partying. Of course, the tabloids exaggerated everything, but in her parents’ world frequenting a nightclub was already skirting the perimeter of propriety. Yet what was she supposed to do? She didn’t have a decent education, she couldn’t work and she didn’t fancy spending her days the way her mother did, dressing up for lunch, taking tea at a certain hour and waving at the masses from the balcony. And at least when she went out with a wilder crowd, she knew that was what the press would focus on. Nothing else.
‘In any case,’ her father continued, his tone utterly implacable, ‘it has come to my attention that a bit of positive publicity could be very good for you, as well as this family. When I consider Sophia—’
‘Sophia?’ Natalia repeated, unable to hold her tongue any longer. ‘What has Sophia done?’ Sophia never did anything wrong. The press loved her, and her father had announced her engagement to Prince Rodriguez last night at Alex and Allegra’s engagement party, to much acclaim. Unlike Natalia, Sophia was doing everything right. Wasn’t she?
‘Never mind,’ Eduardo said sharply. ‘The point is, I think your volunteering is an excellent idea, and I told Ben Jackson so. You are to start on Tuesday.’ He turned to face his daughter, his dark eyes steely with determination. ‘And do not think of defying me, Natalia, or you will find yourself without a penny, and an armed bodyguard making sure you do as you are told.’
Natalia swallowed. She was quite aware that her father’s threat was real, unlike her own to Ben Jackson the other night. And the thought of being penniless and virtually imprisoned did not appeal to her at all. For a blinding second she hated being a princess, hated its restrictions and regulations, the oppressive expectation of royal duty, the secrets and shame she was forced to hide.
‘Very well, Father,’ she finally managed. ‘I will do my best to be a credit to you and the Santina family.’
Her father waved his hand in obvious dismissal, and burning with frustration, Natalia swept out of the chamber. She stood in the opulent front hallway of the palazzo, half a dozen liveried guards flanking the various arched doorways. She could not volunteer for Ben Jackson. The thought filled her with a panicky fear that she couldn’t bear to feel. Too much was out of her control. Too many possibilities of being humiliated, exposed—and by Ben Jackson, smirking in triumph.
The thought made her stomach churn and she felt physically sick. She had her reasons for acting the way she did, hiding in plain sight. She did not want Ben guessing them. Knowing them. Knowing her.
Natalia drew a deep breath and threw her shoulders back. Very well. If she could not convince her father to drop this ridiculous scheme, then she would have to convince the other man involved. She would talk to Ben Jackson himself.
Ben heard the gasps of shock from the reception area of his rented office and leaned back in his chair, smiling in anticipation. That had been quick.
A second later the door to his office burst open and Princess Natalia Santina stood there, her slanted hazel cat’s eyes narrowed and glittering with fury. With her blond pixie hair cut and her long, lithe body, she looked, Ben thought, a bit like an elf. A rather naughty elf. He couldn’t quite forget the image of her in that indecent dress last night. It had barely covered her bottom. Then she’d looked like sex in high heels; now she looked every inch the elegant princess, wearing a pink linen shift, high heeled slingback sandals and wraparound sunglasses which she’d pushed up onto her head. She also looked utterly furious. Ben smiled.
‘Ah, so prompt, Princess. But I believe I arranged with your father for you to start on Tuesday?’ He let his smile widen. He could practically see the steam coming from her ears. ‘So consider this a twenty-four-hour reprieve.’
Natalia took a step into the room. Her chest heaved, although when she spoke her voice was level. ‘You cannot really think,’ she said coldly, ‘to go through with this … this ridiculous idea.’
So she was going to try and play the princess card. Ben laced his hands behind his head and lounged back in his chair. ‘Oh, but I can,’ he assured her. ‘Your father was really quite taken with it.’
‘My father—’ She bit off the words, looking like she wanted to chew them up and spit them out.
‘Thought it would be good for you,’ Ben filled in helpfully.
Natalia glared. ‘I know what my father thinks, thank you very much.’
‘Then there’s no problem.’
She drew a deep breath. ‘There is very much a problem, Mr—’
‘Ben.’
‘Ben.’
She was so very angry. Really, Ben thought idly, she looked rather magnificent when she was furious. Her eyes glittered and her cheeks were flushed, her breasts heaving underneath the snug pink linen of her dress. He could almost imagine what she would be like in bed.
Natalia Santina was a woman who gave as good as she got. The thought of matching her between the sheets had a distinct appeal … and one Ben knew he would have to resist. He chose his affairs with care and discretion, two words he could not apply to the princess. But he was looking forward to being her boss.
Natalia took another step into the room. She drew a breath and let it out slowly, smoothed her hands down the sides of her dress. Ben