Scandals Of The Famous: The Scandalous Princess. Кейт Хьюит

a face she didn’t know. A face with wide, sad eyes and a mouth that trembled with uncertainty. The face of the person she really was … whomever that woman turned out to be.

      Did anyone really want to find out? Did she? Did Ben?

      Two women, chatting loudly in Italian, came into the room and quickly Natalia capped her mascara, gave them a fleeting smile and hurried out.

      In the narrow corridor that led back to the main restaurant a man was leaning against the wall. Natalia assumed he was talking on his mobile, and she murmured her excuse as she brushed past him. He grabbed her elbow.

      She stiffened, turned and recognised one of the men from this evening. Brian, the one who had eyed her so speculatively. She felt a twist of disappointment; this evening wasn’t going to be any different. She wasn’t different. She couldn’t be.

      ‘Your Highness …’

      She gave him a freezing stare. ‘Excuse me,’ she said with haughty politeness, ‘but I believe you are holding my elbow.’

      He looked both startled and apologetic and to Natalia’s relief he let go, but he didn’t move and she couldn’t get by without squeezing past him. She stared him down as coldly as she could.

      ‘I just wondered, Your Highness …’ he slurred, clearly more than a little drunk. ‘I heard you like sailing and I have a sweet little yacht you might like to see … if you know what I mean.’

      ‘Don’t believe everything you read in the papers, Brian,’ Natalia said coolly. She knew he was referring to a ridiculous article about a three-day orgy she’d supposedly indulged in on a yacht last summer. The reality had been far tamer, and frankly rather boring.

      ‘I just thought …’ he mumbled, starting to blush. Natalia almost took pity on him.

      ‘Don’t embarrass yourself any further,’ she advised, and started to move past him. Her hip nudged his and yet something else caused a bolt of awareness to electrify her like lightning, rooting her to the spot, freezing her senses. She looked up and saw Ben blocking the entrance to the corridor, his expression completely and dangerously unreadable.

       CHAPTER NINE

      BEN wasn’t prepared for the blaze of jealousy that fired through him at the sight of Natalia standing so close to his client, their heads bent together, their lips mere inches apart. Clearly they were having a cozy tête-à-tête, he thought savagely. Perhaps they were planning to meet up later for a drink—or more. A lot more. Natalia would give Ben one of her sly smiles and slip away from him, as insubstantial as smoke, as trustworthy as a broken promise. And then she’d leave with Brian. The thoughts raced through his mind, exploded like fireworks, obliterating all rational thought.

      Then Natalia looked up and he saw her eyes widen, her body freeze, as tense as a bowstring, and his doubts disappeared in an instant. He was being ridiculous. He knew this woman too well. He knew her. And she wasn’t flirting. Not with Brian anyway.

      Yet the realisation that came on the heels of the first was far more alarming, far more frightening. Why the hell was he so jealous? Why did he care what Natalia did—or with whom? And how could he really know someone like Natalia, even if he wanted to?

      ‘Ben …’ she said, her voice little more than a whisper.

      ‘Brian,’ Ben said coolly, inclining his head in acknowledgement. He knew what Brian had been doing, loitering by the ladies’ room. He bet Natalia did too.

      Brian hurried past with some mumbled apology, and Ben was left alone with Natalia. His heart was pounding, adrenalin racing through him from both the assumptions and unwelcome discoveries he’d made. They stared at each other, unmoving, transfixed, and the moment stretched into something taut and focused, as if they were balanced on a pinpoint, 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,’