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
