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Ben felt a surge of triumph, as well as a reluctant wave of admiration. The woman had courage. And pride. Too much of it, of course. He shrugged, spreading his hands. ‘Whatever needs doing, really. Office work to begin with—’
‘Office work?’ For a second she looked panicked, which surprised him. Surely office work would be preferable to getting mucky with the children on a football pitch.
‘The camp doesn’t actually launch for another week,’ Ben explained. ‘When the Santina schools have their spring holiday. We’ll start our first three-week camp then. Until it starts, you can help organise things here.’ He gestured to the reception room out front that had been a hive of happy productivity, at least until Princess Natalia had stormed in and stunned them all into silence. ‘You might not be able to type a hundred words a minute,’ he allowed generously, ‘but I assume you can handle a photocopier, do a bit of filing? Read?’ He smiled, expecting her to laugh or smile back even if it was haughtily, but she didn’t. She jerked her startled gaze upwards to his and for a second, no more, she looked terrified. Then her expression closed up completely and she jerked her head in what Ben supposed was a nod.
‘We could make another bet,’ he offered. ‘If you can hack it here for thirty days—’
‘Thirty days—’
‘A month,’ he clarified, and she narrowed her eyes to slits.
‘I can count, Mr—Ben. Thank you very much.’
‘Glad to hear it. Read and count. You’re really quite accomplished.’
She said nothing, but her eyes blazed fury and something even deeper. Darker. Hatred, almost. The emotion in her eyes surprised him; the princess had been giving as good as she got. He felt a stirring of unease at the possibility that he’d actually hurt her.
‘If you manage to stay the required month,’ he said after a moment, keeping his voice mild, ‘required by your father, I should add, then our original bet still stands. I’ll be yours to command for the day.’ Last night that had seemed an almost enticing possibility. Now Ben rather thought that if he was under Princess Natalia’s command she would order him to carve out his own liver with an oyster fork.
She stared at him for a moment, her expression still closed and really rather remote, so he had no idea what she was thinking. It was almost as if she’d physically, or at least emotionally, retreated from him, so even though she still stood in this room, her lithe figure splendidly encased in the pink shift, she was in actuality a million miles away. Ben was surprised to feel a little pang of regret. Despite her aggravating personality, he’d enjoyed their sparring.
‘You don’t think I can do it,’ she said at last.
He could not keep himself from replying, ‘You have given me little cause to believe you can.’
Another flash across her features that he couldn’t quite discern before her expression closed again. ‘You don’t know me.’
‘I’ve read about you—’
‘Do you really believe everything you see in the papers?’ she scoffed, although he still detected a trembling thread of uncertainty underneath her disdain. ‘Your family has been fodder for the tabloids plenty of times. Maybe you’re the pot calling the kettle black now.’
Ben stiffened. He hated the kind of press coverage his family generated, had been trying to rise above it for, it seemed, his entire life. And he particularly hated any personal media exposure, having been dogged by it all too often when he was younger. Even now he could remember the look on his mother’s face when she’d read the papers. She had never been able to resist reading them, seeing and even studying the photos of Bobby Jackson with his latest mistress. Seeing the photo of Ben himself, his tear-streaked face, only four years old. She’d let out a cry of anguish then that still reverberated through Ben thirty years later and made him avoid reporters and their invasive cameras as much as possible. ‘It’s true my family has fed the British press for far too long,’ he told her evenly, ‘but it’s been my experience that even the most outrageous stories hold a grain of truth.’
‘A grain.’
‘Are you saying you’ve been maligned?’
She pressed her lips together. ‘I’m saying I’ll do it,’ she finally said. ‘Clearly I have no choice, and in any case I look forward to winning this ridiculous wager of yours.’ She drew herself up, her eyes glittering, her cheeks high with colour. She really did look magnificent. ‘I look forward,’ she told him, ‘to telling you just what you can do with yourself for an entire day.’
Ben let out a reluctantly admiring laugh. ‘And I look forward to obliging you, I’m sure.’ He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out the T-shirt he’d reserved for her. ‘Here’s your uniform.’ He tossed it to her, and she caught it on reflex, staring down at it in incomprehension.
‘It’s a shirt,’ he explained kindly. ‘You wear it.’
She stared at the logo on front, her brow furrowed. Was she really going to object to wearing a shirt with his name on it? From what he’d already experienced of her, probably.
‘Jackson Enterprises Youth Sports,’ she read slowly. She glanced up at him, gave him a wicked smile. ‘You’ve got your name all over this project, haven’t you?’
‘What should I have called it?’ Ben snapped. He leaned forward, suddenly goaded into proving himself, even though he knew it was ridiculous. ‘These camps mean a great deal to me, Princess, and I’d advise you not to stretch my patience too far. You have no idea what I’m capable of.’
She stared at him, the T-shirt clutched to her chest with one fist. ‘And I’ll say the same to you,’ she said quietly. ‘You have no idea what I’m capable of, Ben Jackson.’
Natalia stood outside Ben Jackson’s office building, blinking in the bright sunlight and willing her heart to stop thudding.
Thirty days.
How could she do it? How could she survive? Ben Jackson’s mocking voice echoed in her head, reverberated through her body.
Read and count. You’re really quite accomplished.
He had no idea. Thirty days in an office would be a month of living hell. She’d had Carlotta’s help to cover herself in school, but now …? How long would it take Ben to figure out her weaknesses? Mock them?
And yet despite the fear that coursed through her like liquid silver, Natalia felt something else just as strong: a blazing streak of determination. She wanted, more than anything, to prove Ben Jackson wrong. Annoying him in the process would be a pleasant bonus.
Her mouth curved into a grim smile as she imagined just how aggravating she could be to Ben. After all, he hadn’t qualified his bet with any sort of progress or achievement on her part. All she had to do was show up and stick it out. And make his life miserable in the process … just as he would undoubtedly make hers.
And then, after thirty days, she would have won. Now she smiled with anticipation as she imagined what she would command him to do. Fetch her slippers? Write an abject public apology in the press? Have him follow her around like a lap-dog? Another tantalising possibility slid through her mind, a sly whisper of just what Ben Jackson could do for her … and to her …
She pictured those broad shoulders and trim hips, those eyes darkened with desire … those long-fingered hands roving over her body with languorous intent. Then she pushed the images away. No, she had no interest in that. Ben Jackson was too autocratic and arrogant to be anything but her boss. Besides, she might flirt and date and have it written up in a tabloid as a torrid affair, but in reality she was very choosy with her relationships. That was one lesson she’d learned all too easily.
The smile died from her lips as she considered what lay between her and winning the wager. Thirty days. Thirty days of working hard—Ben would do his best, she knew, to keep her nose to the grindstone. She sighed, her shoulders slumping before she drew herself up again. She wasn’t afraid of working hard. She just didn’t know if it could produce any meaningful result.
Back at the palazzo Natalia was surprised to find her father closeted with a handful of advisers and her mother in a ferment of anxiety. She asked for Natalia to come to her private rooms upon her return, which she did. Despite her party-going antics, Natalia had yet to disobey a direct order.
‘What’s going on?’ she asked, and Queen Zoe raised perfectly plucked eyebrows.
‘What’s going on? Only that your foolish sister has run off!’
Natalia slid her sunglasses up onto her head. ‘Sophia?’ she guessed, thinking of her father’s words this morning. Her own twin, Carlotta, had already shamed the Santina family by having a child out of wedlock and was trying to live a quiet life in Italy. Natalia didn’t think on top of that she’d just disappear.
‘Yes, Sophia,’ Zoe said with a worried huff. ‘Apparently she would rather ruin her reputation than marry Prince Rodriguez.’
‘Really,’ Natalia said, and didn’t even bother sounding surprised. Wasn’t she the same? She just hadn’t possessed the courage to take it as far as Sophia apparently had done. ‘Where has she gone?’
‘She has stowed away on the airplane of the Maharajah Ashok Achari.’
‘Ash?’ Natalia said incredulously. Ash was one of her brother Alex’s oldest friends, and as such had visited the palazzo several times. Sophia, Natalia suspected, had always had a bit of a crush on him. But to stow away on a plane …! She felt a thrill of admiration as well as envy. She might have made a few scenes, caused a few minor scandals, but she’d never done something really brave.
‘The media is going wild,’ Zoe said in disgust. Both of her parents hated the press, though they recognised the need to appease the people’s desire for press coverage of the royal family. ‘Between this and how they’ve taken to Alex’s intended—’ Her mother stopped abruptly. ‘Really, I cannot conceive what your sister was thinking.’
She’d taken her future into her own hands—in a way Natalia never had.
Zoe sighed. ‘The media is having a field day with Alex’s choice of bride and now Sophia and Ash are having a hasty, patched-up wedding. Your father was quite right in having you volunteer for the Jackson boy. In these precarious times we must do what needs to be done.’
Ah, Natalia thought, royal duty. Of course.
Zoe turned to Natalia, her expression now one of kindly appeal. ‘I know this volunteering might be a bit … difficult for you,’ she said, and Natalia stiffened. Her mother’s sympathy was far worse than her scold. ‘But the positive publicity really is important now.’ She smiled sadly and spread her hands wide. ‘We’re depending on you, Natalia.’
CHAPTER THREE
NATALIA stood in front of Ben Jackson’s office building on one of the best streets of the business district and took a deep breath. She’d had a fraught morning. The palazzo was still in uproar over Sophia and Ash’s scandalous elopement, and the paparazzi had hounded Natalia all the way to the door of the chauffeured car that would take her into the city. Fortunately the driver, Enrico, had lost them on the winding, cobbled streets of Santina’s capital city and now Natalia was left mercifully alone. But not for long. News of her volunteering would leak out and then she would be hounded again. She could just imagine how the press would handle her sudden charitable streak. Bad Girl Plays at Being Good. No one would take it at face value, or consider it admirable. She knew that. Her mother might be depending on her to bring in some good press, but Natalia doubted she could be the one to do it.
Sophia had always been the darling of the media, and even Carlotta’s sins were quietly forgiven, since she was so obviously repentant. But Natalia? She was the party girl—shallow, selfish, reckless and wild—and the paparazzi had no desire for her to shake off her role. Neither, it seemed, did Ben Jackson. From their conversation two days ago, Natalia suspected he was quite looking forward to seeing her fail. She straightened her shoulders and started towards the office. Today she would begin proving him wrong … and making his life hell in the process.
‘You’re late.’ Natalia had just stepped into the building when Ben appeared in his own office doorway, tapping his gold and silver watch. ‘Ten minutes after nine, Princess.’
‘Please, call me Natalia,’ she said with exaggerated graciousness. ‘Or if you prefer, Your Highness.’
Ben’s lips twitched even as he narrowed his eyes. ‘We’re informal in this office. Everyone will call you Natalia.’
Natalia glanced at the three people working in the front office, two women and a man, all of their mouths agape, their eyes as wide as saucers.
‘And,’ Ben continued, his voice hardening, ‘everyone arrives on time.’
‘Of course,’ Natalia replied smoothly. ‘It’s just that I had some difficulties avoiding the press. They were parked outside the palazzo all morning. And not on my account, I might add.’ She gave him a smilingly pointed look as she took off her light silk trench coat and held it out. The woman behind the receptionist desk hurried to take it and Ben’s face darkened.
‘You can hang up your own coat,’ he snapped, and Natalia inclined her head in regal acknowledgement. She had a feeling that playing the gracious royal would get right up Ben’s nose. And in actuality, she’d held out her coat unthinkingly. She was used to someone snapping to attention any time she needed or wanted something; that was how things had always been done in the palazzo. Clearly it was not going to be like that here.
She registered the narrowing of his eyes and the flare of awareness as he took in her clothes; she’d worn the T-shirt he’d given her but paired it with a pale grey silk pencil skirt and matching cardigan, and finished the outfit with a narrow belt in black patent leather and a pair of very high heels. Everyone else in the office wore jeans, save Ben, who was dressed in another sober suit. The man, Natalia thought idly, wanted to appear strait-laced. Boring, even. But she didn’t think he was, underneath. Not if that flaring in his eyes was anything to go by. A lot of emotion bubbled underneath that coolly arrogant facade.
Ben introduced her to his staff: Francesca, a competent-looking young woman in her twenties; Mariana, a stout matron in her early forties, and Fabio, a shy young man who blushed crimson as he stammered his hello. They were all islanders, all bilingual, and they all, of course, knew exactly who she was. Natalia greeted them graciously, but she saw the mix of awe and speculation in their faces and wondered what they thought of her. What they’d read, and what they believed. Not that she cared. She wouldn’t let herself.
‘Come into my office,’ Ben said, still sounding annoyed, ‘and you can get started.’
‘So lovely to meet you,’ Natalia told the three still standing with their mouths agape, and they stammered their replies. She strolled into Ben’s office and he closed the door firmly behind her.
‘You can drop the princess act,’ he growled, and she turned around, arching her eyebrows.
‘But I am a princess.’
‘You know what I mean. As long as you’re here, Your Highness, you’re just another one of my employees.’
‘Volunteers,’ Natalia corrected sweetly, and Ben’s eyes narrowed to near slits.
‘Very well. Volunteer. And my employees out there are not your royal subjects as long as we’re in this office.’
‘So you object to my being polite?’
‘I object to you acting like you’re gracing us with your presence,’ he snapped.
‘Oh, I see,’ Natalia said, sitting in the chair across from his desk and crossing her legs neatly. ‘You want me to grovel.’
Ben let out an exasperated breath. ‘I just want you to act … normal.’
‘This is normal for me.’
‘Really?’ He looked irritatingly skeptical. ‘Some how, Princess, I don’t think any of this is within the realm of your normal activities.’ He glanced pointedly at her demure outfit, and Natalia knew he was thinking of the rather outrageous outfit she’d worn at the engagement party. It had been a very short dress.
Natalia gave him a cool look. She would not let him rile her, even though her heart had already started thudding hard both with anger and trepidation. She was outside of her realm of normal activities. And her comfort zone. ‘Tell me, Ben,’ she asked in as friendly a tone as she could manage, ‘why do you want me here? To teach me a lesson or to have me actually help?’ His eyebrows snapped together, but he said nothing. ‘Because,’ Natalia continued, leaning forward, ‘if I’d offered to help without you first arranging this ridiculous bet, I doubt you’d be scolding me in front of your staff and calling me “princess” in that sneering voice.’ She saw realisation and something close, perhaps, to regret cross his features, darkening his eyes and tightening his mouth.
‘But you didn’t,’ he finally said, biting off the words.
‘So I’m to be punished?’
‘I’m just treating you like everyone else who works here, Prin—Natalia.’
‘Ah, with respect and courtesy then.’
For a second he looked completely flummoxed, and Natalia felt a savage surge of satisfaction. He may have got the better of her in their last conversation, but she was determined to give as good as she got today. She smiled, her point made, and leaned back in her chair. ‘How long has this office been going?’
He looked surprised by the turn in conversation, but he took it in his stride. ‘About six weeks.’
‘And you’ve been here that whole time?’ How had she not come across him before?
‘No, I flew in for a couple of days, that’s all. But now I’m going to be on site for the running of the first camp, before I return to London.’
‘What a coincidence,’ Natalia murmured, ‘that your sister is now engaged to the country’s future king.’
‘Not that much of a coincidence. I knew Alex was in London. I met with him about this camp, so it’s not too much of a leap of the imagination to think he came across Allegra.’
‘And proposed on the spot?’
‘I met with him months ago,’ Ben explained coolly. ‘They obviously had a few months of dating. And,’ he finished with a dismissive shrug, ‘when you know, you know.’
Obviously he didn’t like anyone casting doubt on any of his family. The man was amazingly sensitive about his unruly clan. ‘You know?’ she repeated. ‘Are you talking about true love?’ She imbued the words with as much skepticism as she felt.
Ben’s face remained expressionless. ‘Obviously you don’t believe in it.’
‘Do you?’
‘We hardly need to discuss my feelings on the matter,’ Ben said crisply. ‘You’re here to work, not gossip.’
She uncrossed her legs and straightened in her chair. ‘Very well.’ The fact that he hadn’t answered intrigued her, even though she knew it shouldn’t. What on earth did it matter what Ben Jackson thought about true love? She certainly didn’t believe in it, not after seeing the enduring frosty civility between her parents, and Carlotta’s heart being trampled on by that no-good ambassador. Not to mention her own foolish attempt at a real romance. She had no time or interest in love, true or otherwise … which was why she’d been so relieved to have her own engagement broken.
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—’
