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CHAPTER THREE
NATALIA stood in front of Ben Jackson’s office building on one of the best streets of the business district and took a deep breath. She’d had a fraught morning. The palazzo was still in uproar over Sophia and Ash’s scandalous elopement, and the paparazzi had hounded Natalia all the way to the door of the chauffeured car that would take her into the city. Fortunately the driver, Enrico, had lost them on the winding, cobbled streets of Santina’s capital city and now Natalia was left mercifully alone. But not for long. News of her volunteering would leak out and then she would be hounded again. She could just imagine how the press would handle her sudden charitable streak. Bad Girl Plays at Being Good. No one would take it at face value, or consider it admirable. She knew that. Her mother might be depending on her to bring in some good press, but Natalia doubted she could be the one to do it.
Sophia had always been the darling of the media, and even Carlotta’s sins were quietly forgiven, since she was so obviously repentant. But Natalia? She was the party girl—shallow, selfish, reckless and wild—and the paparazzi had no desire for her to shake off her role. Neither, it seemed, did Ben Jackson. From their conversation two days ago, Natalia suspected he was quite looking forward to seeing her fail. She straightened her shoulders and started towards the office. Today she would begin proving him wrong … and making his life hell in the process.
‘You’re late.’ Natalia had just stepped into the building when Ben appeared in his own office doorway, tapping his gold and silver watch. ‘Ten minutes after nine, Princess.’
‘Please, call me Natalia,’ she said with exaggerated graciousness. ‘Or if you prefer, Your Highness.’
Ben’s lips twitched even as he narrowed his eyes. ‘We’re informal in this office. Everyone will call you Natalia.’
Natalia glanced at the three people working in the front office, two women and a man, all of their mouths agape, their eyes as wide as saucers.
‘And,’ Ben continued, his voice hardening, ‘everyone arrives on time.’
‘Of course,’ Natalia replied smoothly. ‘It’s just that I had some difficulties avoiding the press. They were parked outside the palazzo all morning. And not on my account, I might add.’ She gave him a smilingly pointed look as she took off her light silk trench coat and held it out. The woman behind the receptionist desk hurried to take it and Ben’s face darkened.
‘You can hang up your own coat,’ he snapped, and Natalia inclined her head in regal acknowledgement. She had a feeling that playing the gracious royal would get right up Ben’s nose. And in actuality, she’d held out her coat unthinkingly. She was used to someone snapping to attention any time she needed or wanted something; that was how things had always been done in the palazzo. Clearly it was not going to be like that here.
She registered the narrowing of his eyes and the flare of awareness as he took in her clothes; she’d worn the T-shirt he’d given her but paired it with a pale grey silk pencil skirt and matching cardigan, and finished the outfit with a narrow belt in black patent leather and a pair of very high heels. Everyone else in the office wore jeans, save Ben, who was dressed in another sober suit. The man, Natalia thought idly, wanted to appear strait-laced. Boring, even. But she didn’t think he was, underneath. Not if that flaring in his eyes was anything to go by. A lot of emotion bubbled underneath that coolly arrogant facade.
Ben introduced her to his staff: Francesca, a competent-looking young woman in her twenties; Mariana, a stout matron in her early forties, and Fabio, a shy young man who blushed crimson as he stammered his hello. They were all islanders, all bilingual, and they all, of course, knew exactly who she was. Natalia greeted them graciously, but she saw the mix of awe and speculation in their faces and wondered what they thought of her. What they’d read, and what they believed. Not that she cared. She wouldn’t let herself.
‘Come into my office,’ Ben said, still sounding annoyed, ‘and you can get started.’
‘So lovely to meet you,’ Natalia told the three still standing with their mouths agape, and they stammered their replies. She strolled into Ben’s office and he closed the door firmly behind her.
‘You can drop the princess act,’ he growled, and she turned around, arching her eyebrows.
‘But I am a princess.’
‘You know what I mean. As long as you’re here, Your Highness, you’re just another one of my employees.’
‘Volunteers,’ Natalia corrected sweetly, and Ben’s eyes narrowed to near slits.
‘Very well. Volunteer. And my employees out there are not your royal subjects as long as we’re in this office.’
‘So you object to my being polite?’
‘I object to you acting like you’re gracing us with your presence,’ he snapped.
‘Oh, I see,’ Natalia said, sitting in the chair across from his desk and crossing her legs neatly. ‘You want me to grovel.’
Ben let out an exasperated breath. ‘I just want you to act … normal.’
‘This is normal for me.’
‘Really?’ He looked irritatingly skeptical. ‘Some how, Princess, I don’t think any of this is within the realm of your normal activities.’ He glanced pointedly at her demure outfit, and Natalia knew he was thinking of the rather outrageous outfit she’d worn at the engagement party. It had been a very short dress.
Natalia gave him a cool look. She would not let him rile her, even though her heart had already started thudding hard both with anger and trepidation. She was outside of her realm of normal activities. And her comfort zone. ‘Tell me, Ben,’ she asked in as friendly a tone as she could manage, ‘why do you want me here? To teach me a lesson or to have me actually help?’ His eyebrows snapped together, but he said nothing. ‘Because,’ Natalia continued, leaning forward, ‘if I’d offered to help without you first arranging this ridiculous bet, I doubt you’d be scolding me in front of your staff and calling me “princess” in that sneering voice.’ She saw realisation and something close, perhaps, to regret cross his features, darkening his eyes and tightening his mouth.
‘But you didn’t,’ he finally said, biting off the words.
‘So I’m to be punished?’
‘I’m just treating you like everyone else who works here, Prin—Natalia.’
‘Ah, with respect and courtesy then.’
For a second he looked completely flummoxed, and Natalia felt a savage surge of satisfaction. He may have got the better of her in their last conversation, but she was determined to give as good as she got today. She smiled, her point made, and leaned back in her chair. ‘How long has this office been going?’
He looked surprised by the turn in conversation, but he took it in his stride. ‘About six weeks.’
‘And you’ve been here that whole time?’ How had she not come across him before?
‘No, I flew in for a couple of days, that’s all. But now I’m going to be on site for the running of the first camp, before I return to London.’
‘What a coincidence,’ Natalia murmured, ‘that your sister is now engaged to the country’s future king.’
‘Not that much of a coincidence. I knew Alex was in London. I met with him about this camp, so it’s not too much of a leap of the imagination to think he came across Allegra.’
‘And proposed on the spot?’
‘I met with him months ago,’ Ben explained coolly. ‘They obviously had a few months of dating. And,’ he finished with a dismissive shrug, ‘when you know, you know.’
Obviously he didn’t like anyone casting doubt on any of his family. The man was amazingly sensitive about his unruly clan. ‘You know?’ she repeated. ‘Are you talking about true love?’ She imbued the words with as much skepticism as she felt.
Ben’s face remained expressionless. ‘Obviously you don’t believe in it.’
‘Do you?’
‘We hardly need to discuss my feelings on the matter,’ Ben said crisply. ‘You’re here to work, not gossip.’
She uncrossed her legs and straightened in her chair. ‘Very well.’ The fact that he hadn’t answered intrigued her, even though she knew it shouldn’t. What on earth did it matter what Ben Jackson thought about true love? She certainly didn’t believe in it, not after seeing the enduring frosty civility between her parents, and Carlotta’s heart being trampled on by that no-good ambassador. Not to mention her own foolish attempt at a real romance. She had no time or interest in love, true or otherwise … which was why she’d been so relieved to have her own engagement broken.
Ben rose from his chair, and so did Natalia. ‘Francesca will be in charge of your duties in the office,’ he told her. ‘Next week, when the camp starts, you’ll report directly to me.’ Did he say those words with rather grim relish, or was Natalia just imagining it?
She gave him her most saccharine smile. ‘As you wish.’
‘Music to my ears,’ Ben murmured, and led her back out to the front office.
The first few hours of Natalia’s enforced volunteering went, to her relief, surprisingly smoothly. Francesca gave her a large pile of photocopying to do, and operating the machine was well within Natalia’s abilities, albeit rather tedious. Still the monotony was made bearable by the presence of the others, who kept up a stream of cheerful chatter about books and films and summer plans, to which Natalia contributed, although her intent to cruise the Cyclades on a friend’s private yacht left them all silent, as did her airy admission that she’d seen the film they were discussing at its world premiere in Cannes last year. Natalia didn’t talk so much after that. Ben kept himself closeted in his office, so at least she didn’t have to endure his scowling observation.
By the time lunch rolled around Natalia was starving and exhausted. It annoyed her that one morning tired her out, but she decided that everyone could use a break, and she offered to take her three colleagues out to lunch.
‘We usually just have sandwiches—’ Mariana said, and Natalia waved this aside. After being cooped up in an office the whole morning, they all deserved a treat.
‘But you do get a lunch hour, don’t you?’
‘Yes—’
‘Then it’s settled,’ Natalia said firmly. ‘Why don’t we just leave Mr Jackson a note?’ Ben, thankfully, had gone out earlier to a meeting and Natalia was grateful not to encounter him now. He’d only have something sardonic to say.
Francesca wrote the note and Natalia took them all to one of her favourite restaurants, a little Italian bistro on a back street that looked unassuming but had a six month waiting list for reservations. Fortunately they always had a table reserved for a princess.
‘Order whatever you like,’ she told everyone, and asked for a bottle of very nice wine to be brought to the table. She was just raising her glass in a toast to her colleagues when a hush fell over the table and she saw a shadowy figure darken the doorway of the bistro. Ben. And he looked furious.
‘Join us,’ she offered airily as he approached the table. ‘I was just about to propose a toast.’
‘What a surprise,’ Ben drawled. ‘Please. Continue.’ And smiling, although his eyes still glittered ice, he accepted a glass.
‘To a fabulous first day of work,’ she said, a bit defiantly, and after clinking glasses with everyone she drained her own. She could feel Ben’s gaze on her, narrowed and speculative, over the rim of his own glass. He dropped into the seat next to her.
‘Don’t you mean a fabulous first morning of volunteering?’ he said dryly, leaning forward so his lips almost brushed her ear. His breath fanned her skin and she felt an entirely unreasonable and yet undeniable reaction to him, a shivery heat stealing through her body.
She turned to give him a breezy smile, but he was too close. Far too close. She stilled, and her gaze dropped to his lips, so mobile and sensual, so unlike the rest of his face, all harshly defined planes and angles. ‘Whatever you like to call it,’ she replied, meaning to sound flippant but her voice was too husky. His gaze still locked with hers, Ben took another sip of his drink.
‘Cheers, then,’ he said.
Natalia had ordered half a dozen of her favourite dishes, yet with Ben lounging next to her she found she could barely manage a mouthful. There was something so … distracting about his presence, his overwhelming maleness. Even in his sober suit he exuded a masculine assurance and even arrogance that made Natalia fumble with her fork, the delicious food dry in her mouth. What was it about this man? And how had she ever thought he was boring?
When the waiter brought the pistachio cannoli for dessert Ben looked pointedly at his watch. ‘As delicious as this all looks, your Highness, I’m afraid we’ve been at lunch for well over an hour and there is work to do.’ He smiled at the waiter, although his eyes flashed dark fire. ‘Do you think we could get that wrapped up?’
Natalia bit her lip, suddenly feeling ridiculous. Clearly this lunch had been a little over the top. The rest of Ben’s employees must have thought so too, for they were a rather sorry, silent little crew as they trooped back to the office.
Natalia was just dragging her feet towards the photocopier when Ben paused in the doorway to his private office, eyebrows lifted. ‘Natalia? Could I see you a moment in my office?’
Her stomach flipped and her heart did a somersault. Was he about to bawl her out, again? ‘Of course.’
Head held high, she sailed past Ben into his inner sanctum, heard the click of the door closing behind her.
‘That was quite a show,’ he said, mildly enough, but Natalia still heard the steel underneath.
‘It was lunch.’
‘Perhaps in your world, Princess—’
‘Natalia—’ she corrected firmly.
‘But the average office worker doesn’t have a two-hour lunch complete with lobster and champagne.’
‘Wine, actually.’
He narrowed his eyes. ‘If you’re going to work here—’
‘But I don’t work here,’ Natalia pointed out. ‘I volunteer.’
‘You are under my authority,’ Ben bit out, ‘and I will not allow you to swan into my office and do your la-di-da routine instead of properly working!’
Smiling, Natalia planted both her hands on Ben’s desk and leaned forward so their faces were mere inches apart. ‘Then maybe,’ she suggested softly, ‘you should have thought of that before you made that bet.’
Ben stared at her for a long moment and Natalia became tantalisingly conscious of how close they actually were. If she just leaned forward a little bit, she could kiss him. She imagined the feel of his lips on hers. Would they be hard or soft, yielding or resisting? Would he take control of the kiss, deepen it into something more? She felt a plunging sensation in her stomach, as if she’d missed a stair. She thought he would be a masterful kisser, and she realised she very much wanted to find out.
Her breath hitched and her heart began to thud with hard, heavy beats. It would be so easy … and yet so impossible. She was already playing with fire, taunting him like this. She didn’t want to get completely singed. She knew how that felt, and it wasn’t pleasant.
Ben finally leaned back in his chair, nodding slowly, his eyes narrowed with steely understanding. ‘I see what this is. Your little revenge.’
Natalia shrugged, saying nothing. Her heart was still thudding hard and in truth she couldn’t say what this was. She’d arrived this morning fully intending to annoy Ben by playing the spoilt brat, yet how could you play at something you actually were? She kept getting muddled, not sure what was pretend and what was just her. And as for the lunch … Another twinge of embarrassment assailed her. She’d actually meant it as a kindness. She’d liked chatting with Francesca, Mariana and Fabio, and providing lunch had seemed like something she could do, something they would enjoy. Yet when Ben had joined them, looking so disapproving and disdainful, she’d overreacted on purpose just to annoy him. Clearly she’d succeeded.
Staring at him now, his expression so assessing and judgmental, Natalia felt an uncomfortable welter of emotions—regret and defiance, hurt and pride. Everything was confused. He was confusing. And now he was glaring at her quite ferociously.
She straightened, taking her hands off the desk and smoothing her skirt. ‘Shall I get back to work now?’ she asked, scrupulously polite, and Ben let out a humourless laugh.
‘You mean volunteering, don’t you?’ he said, and waved towards the door. ‘By all means. Waste everyone’s time for another few hours.’
Back in the front room Francesca, her eyes cast down and her expression meekly contrite, handed Natalia a large stack of files. ‘These can go in that drawer over there,’ she said, indicating an ugly, iron-grey filing cabinet in the corner.
‘You have this many files already?’ Natalia asked, trying to suppress a little flutter of fear. ‘I thought this office had only been around a few weeks.’
‘Nearly a month,’ Francesca replied, ‘but there is a lot of paperwork. Legal matters, insurance—’
‘Right.’ Natalia turned towards the cabinet. ‘So where do these go?’
‘You put them in alphabetically,’ Francesca explained. ‘See how they’re labeled?’ She pointed to a neatly printed label on each file and then opened the top drawer of the cabinet. ‘It’s pretty self-explanatory. Just look for the corresponding file in the cabinet.’
‘Right.’ And it was simple, Natalia knew. That didn’t mean it was easy. Francesca walked back to her desk and Natalia put the stack of files on top of the cabinet. She swallowed, straightened her skirt. She would just take this one file at a time and work slowly. Carefully. Yet staring at the tottering stack of files on top of the cabinet, she felt working through them was akin to scaling Mount Everest. In bare feet.
The mood of the office was subdued for the next hour, which didn’t help Natalia’s painfully slow process through the files. Ben strode out of his office, gave Natalia and her files a sharply assessing look before announcing that he was going out for a bit.
The mood lightened a bit after that, and they all started chatting again, which made things easier. In fact, Natalia was just describing the gown she’d worn to a royal ball, her audience quite captivated, when Ben came back to the office.
‘Three rows of seeded pearls sewn along the hem, which actually made it ridiculously heavy. I think I lost five pounds wearing that thing.’
Ben didn’t speak, but she felt his tension. His annoyance, or maybe even his anger. ‘Natalia,’ he said, scrupulously polite, ‘could I please see you in my office?’
Again? ‘Of course,’ she said as airily as she could, and turned away from the filing cabinet. ‘Twice in one day I’ve been called to the headmaster’s office,’ she quipped once he’d closed the door. ‘Must be my lucky day.’
‘Or mine,’ Ben replied dryly. He leaned against the door, his arms folded, his expression turning heavy-lidded. He had amazingly long lashes, Natalia noticed rather absently. On another man those lashes, sensual lips might seem effeminate, but Ben was far too potently male for that. His whole body radiated strength … and tension.
‘Are you amusing yourself, Princess, working as slowly as you can? Sending my entire office into a tailspin?’
‘Infuriating you is my main purpose, actually,’ Natalia replied, ‘although it is amusing, which is a bonus.’
Ben’s eyes narrowed even though he still leaned lazily against the door. ‘And is that how you plan on spending the entire month?’
‘We-ell,’ Natalia drawled, ‘it will probably become boring before then. I’ll have to change tactics at some point.’
Ben stared at her hard for a moment, and Natalia lifted her chin. She would never admit how hard her heart was beating, how weak and vulnerable and scared she felt, having had to work through that pile of near-incomprehensible filing, and then to have Ben see how pitiful she was. She’d rather die than have him know any of it. Any of her weaknesses.
After a tense, silent moment he let out a reluctant laugh. ‘You really are amazing.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I’m not sure I meant it as a compliment.’
‘I’ll take it as one, anyway.’
He laughed again, shaking his head. ‘Seriously, Natalia.’ Something skittered across her spine and then dove right into her heart at the sound of her name on his lips. Not a mocking princess, or a sardonic Your Highness. Just her name. Who she was.
‘Seriously?’ she repeated. ‘You want to be serious?’
‘I know it goes against your nature.’
‘Of course it does.’
‘It’s going to be a long month if you keep this up.’
She smiled and shrugged, but somehow she couldn’t quite manage a comeback quip. Not now. Not about this. Because the truth—the truth she never, ever wanted Ben Jackson to know—was she’d been trying as hard as she could with that stupid filing.
‘I know you want to get back at me,’ Ben continued, ‘and God knows, maybe I deserve it.’
‘It isn’t just God who knows.’
His mouth kicked up at the corner, and Natalia felt her heart beat even harder at the sight of his smile. ‘Still, for the sake of the children—’
She arched an eyebrow. ‘The children care about filing?’
‘You know what I mean.’ He spoke quietly, his voice thrumming with sincerity, and Natalia felt a twist of emotion inside, a softening and longing she couldn’t bear to feel. She shrugged again.
‘Like I said, I’ll have to change tactics. I get bored easily.’
He frowned, cocking his head, and Natalia had the strange sensation that he didn’t believe her. That he suspected she was lying, hiding—and she couldn’t have that.
Quickly she turned towards the door. ‘Is that all, Captain?’
‘For now.’
With a mock salute she disappeared back into the front room, and faced the files this time with a sigh of almost-relief. Ben Jackson was far too perceptive for her own comfort … or safety.
Ben stared at the door Natalia had just disappeared through, closing it firmly behind her, and frowned. That woman got under his skin. More than he liked. She annoyed and intrigued and invigorated him all at once, and it made him uneasy. Even a little angry. Women didn’t get close to him; no one did. Getting close meant losing control, and that was something Ben never did.
Yet from the moment Natalia had breezed into his life, she’d been chipping at the self-control he prided himself on. The cornerstone of who he was, for after witnessing his father’s three marriages, his mother’s life put into a desperate tailspin every time he strayed and it made the papers for everyone to see, Ben had no desire to let anyone close. Give anyone that kind of power.
And yet somehow Natalia already had it. She’d infuriated him the night of the engagement party with her sly innuendoes that he was running this camp for his own personal gain. And her suggestion that his family was somehow beneath her, what with her own wild-child antics splashed across the papers on a weekly basis… ?. She’d managed to insult him in the deepest, most personal way possible all in the space of a few minutes. Had she known instinctively that such insults would catch him on the raw? Ben knew he was sensitive about his family. Protective of his mother and sisters. How could he not be, when the press loved to lambast or ridicule them on an almost daily basis? And yet Princess Natalia courted that kind of coverage. The thought made him feel sick. How could a woman like her affect him this way? Make him want so much?
Today her snooty princess routine had also annoyed him, more than it should have, perhaps. He’d expected her time here would take her down a peg or two, not polish her pedestal. He hadn’t counted on his staff being wide-eyed and tongue-tied in her presence, or Natalia acting like some kind of Grace Kelly.
Yet even so, he shouldn’t be so bothered. He knew it wasn’t just Natalia’s workplace behaviour that was bothering him. Hell, he’d expected that. He certainly hadn’t thought she’d meekly slot herself into the office and be anything close to efficient or productive. He’d thought he’d even enjoy seeing her flounder a bit, watching her get nowhere with her airs and graces.
No, something else was making him hot under the collar, and he knew just what it was. Desire. Princess Natalia Santina was a beautiful woman. At the engagement party her charms had been obvious in a tiny, silver spangled dress that barely covered her bottom. He’d taken in those hazel cat’s eyes, lithe curves and endless legs and felt an expected kick of lust, easy to dismiss.
Yet today when she’d leaned across his desk and he’d seen the T-shirt stretch across her breasts, when he breathed in the citrusy scent of her perfume, something clean and fresh he hadn’t expected, when his gaze was inevitably drawn to her again and again, he felt more than just a normal kick of lust. He felt a deeper twist of longing he wasn’t ready to acknowledge, much less feel. When he saw the flash of vulnerability in her eyes, when her pointed quips made him want to smile, when he enjoyed her company … he felt that longing inside of him twist harder and start to snap.
Control. He was losing it. He didn’t want to want this woman. In any way. He had enough to do arranging this camp, managing his own business and making sure his siblings stayed on a steady course. He didn’t need the complication of a woman—any woman, but especially one as dangerously high-profile as Princess Natalia.
Far better to steer clear of her except in the office, or he’d see himself splashed across the tabloids like the rest of his family, and that was the last thing he wanted.
Straightening, he pulled a sheaf of papers towards him and determined to work for the rest of the afternoon—and not give the aggravating princess another thought.
He stayed in his office until after seven, immersed in his work. He heard the muted farewells of the others leaving, the sound of the door closing, when he decided to finish up back at the beach house he’d rented for his time on the island. His equilibrium mostly restored, Ben grabbed his attaché and opened his office door, stopping abruptly when he saw Natalia still bent over the filing cabinet.
The first thing he noticed was the way her skirt pulled across the rounded curve of her bottom. Then he jerked his gaze upwards and realised she was still filing away. The thought shocked him, for if she was still here it meant she hadn’t been slow on purpose. So what was really going on? Ben had no idea, but this perplexing insight into the woman he wanted to dismiss made him pause. Frown.
She straightened and, seeming to sense his presence, turned. Ben noticed her guarded expression, her eyes veiled before she tilted her head and gave him a flirty smile. That was the expression he was used to seeing, yet it didn’t ring true right now.
‘You didn’t have to stay late.’
Natalia lifted one slender shoulder in a shrug. ‘I wanted to get the job done.’ She glanced at the remaining few files. ‘I’ve decided I despise filing.’
‘It is a bit tedious.’
‘That too.’ She tucked a strand of wheat-blonde hair behind her ear and turned back to the cabinet.
Ben saw how stiff her shoulders were, her whole body nearly vibrating with tension. She also looked exhausted, and to his own shock he found himself saying, ‘Let me finish it.’
‘I can do it—’ she insisted, surprisingly fierce, but Ben had already slotted the remaining files into the cabinet and closed the drawer. It had taken less than a minute. Why, he wondered, had it taken her hours? Surely even the most incompetent person could manage it quicker than that. Yet looking at her drawn face and shadowed eyes he didn’t think it had been some kind of revenge. She’d actually, in her own way, been trying.
‘So you finished your first day,’ he said lightly. He had come to stand quite close to her in order to finish the filing, and he was conscious of her slender form, the sweep of her satiny cheek, the way her chest rose and fell. He took a step back. ‘Congratulations.’
She gave him a sharp look, reminding him, to his relief, of the spoilt princess he’d encountered at the engagement party. ‘Much to your disappointment, I’m sure.’
‘I wouldn’t say that.’
‘I would. You made this bet in order to see me fail.’ She spoke flatly, without her usually lilting playfulness, and Ben found he missed it.
‘I made this bet—’ he began, then stopped. Why had he insisted she volunteer for him for a month? His own kind of revenge for her being the kind of partying, publicity-seeking princess she was? Or to teach her a lesson? Or something far more dangerous—because he wanted to see her again, wanted to be near her? He didn’t like any of the choices.
‘Cat got your tongue?’ Natalia jibed softly. ‘Never mind. One day down, twenty-nine to go.’ She turned to fetch her coat but Ben got there first, holding it up for her. ‘So I can hang up my own coat but not put it back on?’ she mocked, yet he sensed a brittle edge to her tone, to her whole self, that he hadn’t heard before. It made him wonder what would happen when that brittle edge cracked. What was underneath?
She slipped her arms into the sleeves and as his fingers brushed her shoulders he felt her twang with awareness, her body as taut as a tightly strung bow. He also felt the answering jolt of lust ricochet through his own body, so strong it took all his self-control to release her.
‘Let’s call a truce for the evening,’ he said, and she turned, close enough to him that her hair brushed his cheek as she moved.
‘Are you serious? Where’s the fun in that?’
‘I’m not sure. But keeping up with you is exhausting, Princess.’
‘Of course it is,’ she replied tartly. ‘I move fast.’ She swept past him to the door, and Ben was left wondering if she’d been warning him—or putting herself down. She’d sounded almost bitter.
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