‘Not bad?’ she repeated, arching an eyebrow. ‘I’ve completely ruined my manicure and that’s all you can say?’
He stopped in front of her, close enough that she could feel the heat coming from his body, inhale the tangy and not unpleasant scent of aftershave and male sweat.
‘Let’s see,’ he said, and took one of her hands in his. Natalia tried to ignore the treacherous and tempting warmth that stole through her body at the feel of his roughened fingers touching her own. His thumb caressed her palm—surely he didn’t even realise he was doing it—as he studied her now broken and chipped nails. He glanced up, and she saw the glints in his navy eyes, fixated on the quirk of that incredibly sensual and mobile mouth. ‘A noble sacrifice,’ he murmured. He didn’t let go of her hand. Natalia heard her breath come out in something halfway to a shudder. Had Ben noticed? Did he realise what this simple hand-holding was doing to her?
She saw his pupils flare and dilate and with a thrill she realised he was as aware—and affected—as she was. The thought made her knees weaken in a way that had nothing to do with how exhausted and achey she was, and everything to do with the electric attraction that pulsed silently between them.
‘I quite agree,’ she said in a voice that bordered on shaky, and with both reluctance and determination 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