if not quite as soon as she made out. This thought only added to her unhappiness.
Yet the fact that she’d only told him about her possible marriage because she’d been afraid of what was happening between them needled her, burrowed under her skin, a jagged splinter that she could not ignore or remove.
She felt the tension snap through the air as soon as she entered the palazzo. One of her mother’s staff swooped down on her as soon as she arrived, informing her that Queen Zoe requested her presence immediately.
Natalia hurried to her bedroom and changed into a mint-green linen dress and matching high-heeled espadrilles. She could hardly face her mother in Ben’s T-shirt and shorts … even if she couldn’t resist pressing them to her face, as if she could still catch the faint scent of him, before dropping them determinedly in the corner of the room.
‘Where have you been?’ Queen Zoe demanded icily as Natalia entered her room.
‘I’m sure Enrico told you,’ Natalia replied. She was surprised at how calm she felt. Her confrontation with Ben had sapped all of her emotional reserves. He’d taken everything.
‘He said,’ Zoe informed her, ‘that he drove you to Mr Jackson’s house.’
‘Yes.’
‘And you returned to the palazzo this morning.’
Natalia met her mother’s narrowed gaze evenly. ‘Yes.’
‘Natalia, this behaviour …’ Her mother shook her head, her outrage turning to genuine distress. ‘It must stop.’
‘It has,’ Natalia said, even though she knew she and her mother were really talking about completely different things. ‘It’s over.’
‘Because,’ Queen Zoe continued, her voice hardening once more, ‘the Sheikh Prince of Qadirah has made an official offer. He is arriving this week to arrange the contractual details. As soon as those are settled, your marriage will be announced.’
Somehow Natalia dragged herself through the next few days. She kept mostly to her room, avoiding the flurry of activity the imminent arrival of the Prince of Qadirah seemed to cause. She tried not to think of Ben, but her mind—and body—betrayed her, both remembering how sweetly he had kissed her. Loved her.
And if she’d only had a little more courage she could have stayed. She’d have told him everything, and maybe … maybe they could have worked something out.
She knew the thought was foolish, the hope vain. She was about to be married. Even if she’d stayed, even if she’d trusted Ben, they would only have had a few more hours at best. A single morning. And maybe not even that.
Even if she wasn’t getting married, Natalia reminded herself, Ben had never actually said he’d loved her. I recognise that we have something between us—something I’ve never had with anyone else—and I’m willing to keep at it, see if it works. Not exactly a promise to build a dream on. A life on. What if he had decided it wasn’t working? What if this time he didn’t push her off his lap, but out of his life?
Perhaps, Natalia told herself as she prepared to go to camp on Monday morning, this was better. It was certainly safer. A marriage with the Sheikh of Qadirah would be cordial, convivial perhaps, but they would essentially lead separate lives, especially once she’d provided an heir. That much had been made clear to her by the ambassador. There would be no intimacy, no vulnerability, no knowing. And that, she told herself resolutely, was a good thing. Even if it didn’t feel like it was.
By the time Natalia arrived at camp a few days later she’d pushed all these thoughts away, had blanked her mind and her heart. It was surely the only way to get through the day.
Ben was busy on the pitch when Natalia arrived at the stadium. She made sure to keep away from him, helping out at the registration table, not looking at him as he issued orders. Perhaps she could get through this day without actually talking to him. The thought brought both sorrow and relief.
Of course she should have known Ben would never let her off so easily. He called her to him at the centre of the pitch late in the morning, the children gathered all around.
‘Princess Natalia and I will demonstrate how to guard the goal,’ Ben said in his careful Italian, a football in his hands. ‘An important skill, no matter what position you are playing. Sometimes in a match the goalkeeper is injured and another player has to substitute, so it’s always worth knowing how to do it.’ He nodded towards Natalia. ‘Princess Natalia will act as goalkeeper first.’
Fabulous. Just about the last thing she wanted was Ben kicking the football straight at her. Her head held high, Natalia marched towards the goal area and turned to face Ben. His face was grimly set, his eyes blazing determination, and she braced herself for a hard kick aimed at her head.
She should have known better than that. She should have known Ben better than that. He punted a soft kick straight to her feet, ridiculously simple for even her to trap.
‘Now that’s not going to happen too often,’ Ben told the children with a smile. ‘When players want to score a goal, they’re going to kick hard. They’re going to give it everything they’ve got, and you have to brace yourselves for that.’ He turned back to Natalia, and she tensed. ‘Ready?’ he asked her, and tersely she nodded.
He kicked the ball hard, but not too hard. With taut effort she was able to keep it from getting in the goal. Ben turned back to the children. ‘Now Princess Natalia really wants to keep me from scoring,’ he said with a smile, although Natalia detected a slight edge to his voice. ‘But sometimes, when a football is coming straight at you, and all you can see is that hard and fast-moving ball, you’re scared. That’s understandable. You’re afraid to commit to the maneuver.’
Natalia tensed again. She had a feeling Ben was talking about something more than football. Something a whole lot more personal. He raised his voice so every child could hear. So she could hear. ‘That’s when you’ve got to be brave,’ he said. ‘That’s when you’ve got to give this game everything you’ve got.’
Tears stung Natalia’s eyes. She hadn’t been brave. She’d been so afraid, but it was too late. The game was over for them, even if Ben didn’t realise it.
‘Now,’ Ben said, ‘it’s my turn. Princess Natalia will kick the ball to me.’ As he passed her the football, he murmured, ‘Kick it to the outside post, if you can.’
Natalia had no idea what he was getting at now, but she nodded. She thought she could manage that. She turned to face Ben, saw him prepare for the kick, his muscular body taut and achingly beautiful.
‘Sometimes,’ he said, his gaze fastened to hers, boring into her soul, ‘you’ve got to let yourself really go. More than you ever would. More than you want to.’ He nodded at her, and she kicked the ball to the corner of the goal.
Ben dived for it, the extension elegant and total, his body nearly parallel to the ground, his arms outstretched. He was completely committed to the dive. Everyone watched in awe as he caught the ball and fell to the ground, landing on his shoulder and side before rolling into a sitting position. He turned to the crowd of children with a triumphant smile.
‘You see? I didn’t even get hurt. At least, not more than a little.’ His gaze moved to Natalia, settled on her with unmistakable emphasis. ‘But it was worth it.’
NATALIA didn’t talk to Ben for the rest of the day, but his words raced through her mind, churned in her gut. You’re afraid to commit. That’s when you’ve got to be brave. That’s when you’ve got to give this game everything you’ve got.
He’d been talking to her, she knew it. Talking about them. And maybe she should have been braver. Maybe she could have given more.