The Scandalous Collection. Кейт Хьюит. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Кейт Хьюит
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
Жанр произведения: Короткие любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474084130
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a knife’s edge.

      ‘I wasn’t—’ she began.

      ‘I know,’ Ben said, closing the space between them in a few long strides. Then he did what he’d been aching to do for far too long.

      He kissed her.

      It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet or thoughtful; he didn’t ask permission. He kissed her with all the raw pent-up fury he’d felt and had been feeling for far too long for wanting this woman at all.

      And she kissed him back the same way.

      This woman gave as good as she got, Ben thought, always. And then he stopped thinking because his mind was on overdrive registering the softness of Natalia’s mouth, the feel of her body pressed against his, his thigh already moving insistently between her legs, the citrusy scent of her perfume and the ragged gasp of her breath that drove him mad.

      Their mouths still locked, he half stumbled with her until her back came against the wall, and his hands were already under her skirt, skimming the silky skin of her thighs. He’d never been so driven by need. Talk about being out of control and weak and helpless. This was desire; this was fear.

      She arched towards him, her head dropping back, one leg twining around his, pulling him closer, her nails digging into his back. Her breath came in short mewing gasps as he took mastery of her mouth, his tongue delving into and discovering the depths of her softness.

      Then a door opened, and he heard a burst of feminine laughter. Disoriented, he lifted his head from Natalia’s and saw two women standing in the doorway of the ladies’ room. He registered their amused expressions and Natalia’s dazed one, but before he could step back or do anything at all she’d already slipped past him and was disappearing down the hallway, her heels clicking on the tile floor, her hands smoothing her rumpled skirt. Then she was gone.

      Natalia forced herself not to tremble as she walked down that endless corridor. Her legs felt so wobbly she was amazed she could even stand. She pressed one shaking hand to her mouth. Her lips felt tender, swollen. She’d never been kissed like that before. When she’d met Ben she’d noticed his latent strength, leashed fury. She’d wondered what would happen if he lost control. Well, now she had an inkling and it scared her half to death.

      She wasn’t ready for that much passion. That much emotion. That much everything. A man like Ben … he’d demand everything from her. He’d take it too. And then what would be left? She’d thought she wanted to be known; she’d wanted someone to understand her. But now the thought filled her with a panicky fear.

      ‘Princess Natalia!’ The men chivalrously stood as she came back to the table. Smiling graciously, utterly refusing to think about what had just happened, Natalia sat down and proceeded to play the princess like she never had before.

      Two hours later she and Ben were back at the airport. Natalia felt as brittle as a bone, as if she might snap or break at any moment. They hadn’t spoken since they’d left the restaurant, and the very air was taut with unspoken questions. She wanted to say something just to break it, but her mouth was too dry to form a word.

      She’d never felt like this before.

      ‘After you,’ Ben murmured as she slipped out of the limo, and with a huge effort Natalia finally managed to regain some of her insouciant composure.

      ‘I think that went rather well, don’t you?’

      ‘A roaring success,’ Ben agreed without expression. Natalia didn’t look at him as she clambered up into the airplane. Good Lord, it was small. It had seemed cozy when they’d flown to Rome; now it felt positively airless. She couldn’t breathe. She stared out the other window as Ben climbed into the cockpit and adjusted the controls.

      He didn’t speak again as the little plane took off into the night sky. Soon Rome was nothing but a cluster of tiny pinpricks of light beneath them. Natalia leaned her head back against the seat and let out a shuddering sigh. Ben gave her a sideways glance.

      ‘Tired?’

      ‘Exhausted,’ she admitted.

      ‘So does acting the princess wear you out?’

      ‘Completely.’ And that kiss—and all it might mean—had drained her too.

      ‘I would have thought it would revitalise you,’ Ben said, a slight edge to his voice. ‘Don’t extroverts get their energy from socialising?’ He spoke with a trace of mockery that was all too familiar. So it was going to be like that. Fine. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Light. Safe. Not real. Not like that kiss had been.

      ‘Perhaps I’m not an extrovert,’ she said, her head still resting against the seat, her eyes closed. Ben let out a short little laugh.

      ‘Not an extrovert, Princess? I find that hard to believe.’

      She opened her eyes, turning her head so she could look at him. His shoulders were tense, a muscle bunched in his jaw. ‘You don’t know me,’ she said quietly. ‘Even if you think you do.’ Even if she wanted him to. Even if she was afraid for him to.

      Ben was silent as he gazed back out at the night, his hands flexing on the plane’s controls. ‘What are you saying?’ he finally asked. ‘That you don’t enjoy all those parties? All those affairs and scandals? Everything you get up to—it’s just an act?’

      That’s exactly what I’m saying. The words were in her heart, on her lips, yet she could not speak them. She’d tried telling him earlier, tried to explain she did it as a way to feel in control. Strong. But she knew now she could not risk making herself so vulnerable, not when it was so obviously not what Ben wanted to hear. He wanted her to be exactly what he thought she was. The shallow, spoilt princess. That was easier for both of them, wasn’t it? Anything else was scary. And this was a man who hated fear, who was scared of being scared. He might not know her, but she understood him all too well.

      She turned her head away from him and closed her eyes. ‘An act?’ she repeated with a little laugh. ‘How exhausting it sounds.’ Ben didn’t reply, and neither of them spoke again.

      By the time the plane landed on the airfield with a bump Natalia felt more depressed than tense. The hour of silence had left her with far too much time to think. To remember. She could quite distinctly and deliciously remember the feel of Ben’s lips on hers, his hands sliding under her dress, those strong arms pulling her closer. It had all felt so amazing, and not just physically. Emotionally she’d felt something too. She’d felt something stir to life and awaken inside her that was more than just desire or need. Natalia was afraid to think of what it was.

      She could not fall in love with this man.

      She’d slid him a couple of sideways glances during the course of the journey, but his rather grim gaze remained on the stretch of night sky in front of them. She had no idea what he was thinking. Was he regretting the kiss? Wishing it had never happened? Why had he kissed her? Was it just simple lust or something more?

      And was she willing to ask herself the same question? What was this potent mix of excitement and fear, hope and need, that she was feeling? If she ignored it, would it go away? Would life be safe again? Did she want it to be?

      Too many questions, and no answers. She felt as if she were teetering on the edge of a precipice. She had no idea what lay waiting for her far below, or on the other side. She had no idea just how far she’d have to jump to land safely. Maybe she didn’t even want to be safe any more.

      ‘We’re here,’ Ben said, startling Natalia out of the endless looping reel of her thoughts. She straightened, smoothed her skirt.

      ‘Brilliant,’ she said, and cleared her throat, the sound loud and awkward in the confined space of the cockpit. Ben turned to look at her, and Natalia’s breath froze in her chest.

      ‘About that kiss …’ he began.

      Here it comes, she thought. The apologies or accusations, it didn’t matter