Scandals Of The Famous. Кейт Хьюит

      ‘Evening Star is known to save the best for last.’

      ‘You want to win, Princess?’

      ‘Of course.’

      He smiled, and Natalia smiled back, their gazes locking in steely and heated challenge. Natalia had never felt so aware, so alive, or so wanted. After a tense moment she forced herself to turn back to the race.

      ‘Ah-ha,’ she echoed. ‘Look at Evening Star.’

      Sure enough Evening Star had pulled a length ahead of Wild Wishes. They watched for several taut moments as the horses galloped, only half a length between them, dust flying from their hooves. Evening Star was still ahead, and Natalia was already envisioning turning to Ben with a little smile, yanking him over to her by his tie and pulling his mouth down to hers …

      Then, out of seemingly nowhere, Autumn Nights pulled ahead of both the horses, crossing the finish line a full two lengths in front of Evening Star.

      Around them the crowd burst into cheers at such a close victory, and Natalia sank back in her seat, conscious of the swamping sense of disappointment she felt.

      ‘Well,’ Ben said with a surprisingly shaky laugh, ‘it looks like we both lost.’

      ‘Yes.’ Her throat felt absurdly tight. It was just a race; it would have been just a kiss. Yet she felt as if she’d lost out on something wonderful and precious. ‘At least there’s champagne,’ she said lightly, and beckoned a waiter forward to serve them.

      The tension between them lessened as they chatted over champagne and strawberries. Natalia forced the thought—and hope—of the kiss back, knowing there was no good dwelling on it now. The moment had passed. Ben would have kissed her for a bet, she realized with a trace of bitterness, but not just to kiss her. Not the way she really wanted to be kissed.

      ‘Why the frown, Princess?’

      She glanced up at him, saw his eyes narrowed in that speculative way she’d come to recognize, and gave him an easy smile. ‘No reason.’

      ‘Not pining over Evening Star, are you?’

      ‘That,’ Natalia told him sweetly, ‘would be quite a wild wish.’

      He chuckled and leaned back in his seat. ‘So do you go to the races often?’

      ‘Occasionally. A royal presence is often required. My father owns one of the horses in this race.’

      ‘Which one?’

      ‘Abdul Akbar. He came in fifth.’

      ‘Too bad.’ She just shrugged. ‘Are you close to your parents?’

      ‘Close?’ Natalia took a sip of champagne, unnerved by the question. ‘Are you?’ she asked.

      ‘Nope, not going to answer that one. I asked you first.’

      ‘Then I suppose the short answer is no, not really.’

      ‘What’s the long answer?’

      She stared at him. ‘Why do you want to know?’

      ‘Well, Princess,’ Ben told her, leaning forward so the male scent of him, aftershave and champagne and even a little bit of strawberry, washed over her, ‘it’s called making conversation.’

      She gave him a tiny smile. ‘A talent I didn’t think you were capable of.’

      ‘I am, on occasion.’

      ‘So what’s the occasion?’

      He held his champagne flute aloft. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’

      It had been more comfortable, Natalia thought, when they had been bantering and betting on a kiss. This question—this conversation—felt far more intimate and dangerous than a mere brushing of lips ever could have been. ‘My parents put the kingdom before their family,’ Natalia finally said. ‘In many different ways. It created a distance.’

      ‘Duty before love?’

      ‘Something like that.’ She really didn’t feel like going into it, or remembering the years of secrecy and shame. Keep it quiet, Natalia. Don’t let anyone know how slow you are. She smiled, took a sip of her drink. ‘What about you?’

      ‘Am I close to my parents?’ Ben shrugged. ‘My father likes to think we’re close, but I’m not sure we really are. And I feel very protective of my mother. She’s been through too much already.’ He pressed his lips together, clearly as uncomfortable as she was revealing anything personal, and Natalia laughed softly.

      ‘You shouldn’t have asked the question, Ben, if you weren’t willing to answer it.’

      He acknowledged her point with a wry half-smile. ‘True. Maybe we should stick to talking about films or books. Read anything good lately?’

      Definitely not. ‘Nope,’ Natalia said lightly. She reached for a strawberry and tried to ignore the ache in her chest that radiated outwards, seeming to take over her whole body with its pain. Why, she wondered, did it hurt to have secrets when the thought of them being revealed was so terrifying? Either way she couldn’t win.

      ‘So what’s next on your agenda for today?’ Ben asked, and Natalia felt a flicker of relief as well as disappointment that the conversation was moving on.

      ‘Dinner at a very nice restaurant on the beach, and then dancing at the island’s best club.’ She arched her eyebrows. ‘Do you dance?’

      ‘Fabulously.’

      ‘Brilliant.’

      She rose and Ben followed suit, holding out his hand to escort her from the royal box. After a slight hesitation Natalia took it, needing to feel his fingers wrapped over hers, skin against skin even in just this small way. She knew that even though she had set the schedule for the day, Ben was the one who was in control. How could she doubt it for a moment? He was man who thrived on control, who craved it … and she, Natalia acknowledged with a whisper of panic, could not resist him.

      They ate fish caught that afternoon with the waves lapping the shore only a few meters away, and Natalia found herself relaxing, reveling in Ben’s attention and interest. He asked her about her life as a princess without sounding snide or condemning, but as if he really wanted to know. And Natalia reeled him with tales of her upbringing, finding moments and anecdotes that had not been tainted by disapproval or duty. She also liked hearing about Ben’s climb to his current position as CEO of his own multi-million pound finance management firm, learning more about the man she was finding to be far more fascinating than she’d ever expected.

      The sun sunk towards the sea turning its surface to burnishing gold, and they lounged in their chairs, finishing the bottle of wine, the spring air a warm caress.

      ‘So,’ Ben finally said, his face in half-shadow, ‘dancing.’

      ‘I can’t wait to see you dance,’ Natalia said, although more than half of her wanted to stay here, in this twilit intimacy and savour simply being alone with Ben. Yet surely that was too dangerous. Better to be in a public place, with other people, where her body—and heart—wouldn’t lead her astray.

      ‘And I can’t wait to dance with you,’ Ben replied, and he signalled for the cheque.

      The club Natalia chose was packed with writhing bodies, flashing with strobe lights, and pulsing with music so loud Ben could feel it reverberate through his chest. Perfect. He couldn’t get close to Natalia in a place like this, couldn’t see the golden glints in her eyes when she laughed, couldn’t feel his self-control start to fray as he reached for her again, finding any excuse to touch her. His hand on the small of her back, his arm across the seat of his car, his fingers brushing hers as they clinked glasses. Any excuse at all, even a ridiculous bet on a race horse.

      He’d never wanted a woman so much. A woman he knew to be dangerous, inappropriate, impossible. He should never be interested in someone