Scandals Of The Famous. Кейт Хьюит

      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