smile. ‘Never better.’
His mouth quirked upwards. ‘That was quite a fall.’
‘I know, it took me a long time to perfect it.’ She moved, experimentally, wincing a little bit at how her back hurt. Ben frowned, placed a hand on her shoulder. Even in her bruised state she felt another jolt of awareness.
‘Stay still. You might have hurt something.’
‘I know I hurt something. But nothing’s broken.’
She eased herself up into a sitting position. ‘Trust me, I’m a complete coward when it comes to pain.’
Ben was giving her a rather strange look. His hand remained on her shoulder. ‘Somehow I doubt that.’
Discomfited, Natalia looked away from him and saw that the productivity on the pitch—all that dribbling and kicking—had come to a complete halt as a hundred pairs of eyes stared at her with a mixture of concern and amusement. Talk about humiliation.
Yet as Gabriella walked up to her, her eyes wide, Natalia found, to her own amazement, that she didn’t really mind. Not this time. Not if it made just one child feel a little bit better about herself. She winked at Gabriella. ‘I told you I was terrible, didn’t I?’ Gabriella gave a little laugh, and this time Natalia didn’t feel like she was being laughed at. She had made the joke, not been the butt of it. She stood, trying not to wince because her back did really hurt, and held the ball out to Gabriella. ‘Your turn, I think.’
‘Maybe you should sit out—’ Ben offered. He still looked rather touchingly concerned. Probably just his overblown sense of responsibility, Natalia told herself. It would be stupid to read anything more into it. To want more. She gave him a mocking look.
‘Don’t coddle the princess, hotshot. I can do it.’
A surprised smile quirked the corner of his mouth and his expression lightened. ‘I know you can,’ he said.
Ben watched Natalia walk away and felt a surprising surge of admiration—and maybe something else. Something deeper. The tangle of emotions he’d felt inside him since the day spent with Natalia had tuned into a knot that seemed to be taking over his body. His thoughts. His heart.
He’d spent far too much time thinking about that almost-kiss, as if it had meant something. As if it could have. In a desperate attempt at distraction he’d gone into the office on Sunday, hoping that piles of paperwork would keep him from remembering just how perfect Natalia had fit against him, how right she’d felt in his arms.
And it had worked, for a little while. Until he’d seen her again, and he’d been desperate to touch her, and then when she’d fallen he’d felt as if his world had spun on its axis and he’d run over to her, his heart pounding, his mouth dry with fear.
This woman made him feel too much. Want too much. And after witnessing his father’s three marriages and his mother’s ongoing heartbreak as she turned a determinedly blind eye to his philandering, Ben didn’t want to feel or want anything, for any woman.
Do you believe in true love?
He believed in love, he just didn’t like it. Or want it. His mother’s love for his father certainly hadn’t helped her any. He did not intend to fall into the same terrible trap.
And certainly not with Princess Natalia.
Ben watched the little girl kick the ball back to Natalia, and this time she actually stopped it with her foot—His thoughts came to a screeching halt. Why was he thinking about Natalia and love at all? She was a spoilt princess, shallow, vain, publicity-seeking. Everything he hated.
Except maybe she wasn’t. He was starting to wonder if there really was something underneath that brittle la-di-da facade, to believe there was a real woman with a tender and vulnerable heart.
The thought both appalled and terrified him.
He wanted Natalia Santina to be exactly what he’d thought she was: shallow, selfish, spoilt and vain. It would be so much easier. He wouldn’t have to wonder, or want, or find excuses to spend more time with her. He wouldn’t be interested in her at all.
But he was, and knew he had been from the first moment she’d sauntered over to him at Allegra’s engagement party. He’d sensed the spark between them then, and asking her to volunteer had been, he was afraid, just a way to spend time with her.
And the more time he spent with her, the more he wondered. The more he wanted. And he felt his precious control slipping notch by notch, until he’d lose it completely and nothing would keep him from taking her in his arms and demanding she tell him all her secrets. He wanted to know her … inside and out, and that thought scared him more than anything else.
By the end of the day Natalia’s whole body ached. Ben was right. This was really working, and all she wanted was to fall into bed, tired, muddy and sweaty, just as Ben had promised she would be—and now was.
The children and most of the other volunteers had trooped out of the stadium at five o’clock, tired and happy, if as muddy as she was. Natalia hovered by the registration table, shuffling forms into piles and putting the pens back in the jar. She knew she should leave and yet she was strangely reluctant to. Despite the aches and pains, the dirt and mud, even the humiliation, she’d enjoyed today. She’d felt productive and useful, engaged and energised. Not that she’d ever let Ben Jackson know it. Still, the thought of returning to the palazzo with all of its expectations and strictures almost made her want to start kicking the ball around again. ‘Not bad, Princess,’ Ben said, and Natalia turned to see him coming back from the front of the stadium. She felt a frisson of awareness shiver up her spine as she took in his long-legged stride, his easy smile. Mud streaked his long, muscled legs and Natalia saw a splotch of it on his cheek.
‘Not bad?’ she repeated, arching an eyebrow. ‘I’ve completely ruined my manicure and that’s all you can say?’
He stopped in front of her, close enough that she could feel the heat coming from his body, inhale the tangy and not unpleasant scent of aftershave and male sweat.
‘Let’s see,’ he said, and took one of her hands in his. Natalia tried to ignore the treacherous and tempting warmth that stole through her body at the feel of his roughened fingers touching her own. His thumb caressed her palm—surely he didn’t even realise he was doing it—as he studied her now broken and chipped nails. He glanced up, and she saw the glints in his navy eyes, fixated on the quirk of that incredibly sensual and mobile mouth. ‘A noble sacrifice,’ he murmured. He didn’t let go of her hand. Natalia heard her breath come out in something halfway to a shudder. Had Ben noticed? Did he realise what this simple hand-holding was doing to her?
She saw his pupils flare and dilate and with a thrill she realised he was as aware—and affected—as she was. The thought made her knees weaken in a way that had nothing to do with how exhausted and achey she was, and everything to do with the electric attraction that pulsed silently between them.
‘I quite agree,’ she said in a voice that bordered on shaky, and with both reluctance and determination tugged her hand from his own. This was way too dangerous.
Ben took a step back, raked a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. She really wasn’t into all that macho male stuff—she’d always preferred men to be well-groomed and elegant—but right now she didn’t think she’d seen
