Santina's Scandalous Princess

‘But I’m—’ She stopped suddenly but Ben could easily guess what     she’d been about to say.

‘A princess?’ he filled in. ‘And princesses can’t get their     hands dirty? Can’t mingle with the masses? Can’t do a single day’s work in their     bloody useless lives?’

Natalia recoiled, and underneath the anger Ben thought he saw a     flash of vulnerability. Then she drew herself up, all haughty disdain, and he     was reminded of just what a spoilt snob she really was. He knew what it meant to     work. He knew what it was to try and fail and then try again. His father may     have once been a famous footballer, but Ben had made his own money, his own life     far from the scandal and notoriety of his upbringing. He’d earned the respect he     now garnered; it hadn’t been given to him simply because of who he was. Not like     this princess. He’d be damned if he’d let her try to walk all over him.

‘It’s simply not reasonable,’ she said, clearly now going for     quiet dignity. A little too late for that.

‘I don’t see why.’

‘Because—’

‘Just what do you have against volunteering at my sports camp?’     Ben asked, leaning forward. He genuinely wanted to know the answer. ‘The     children are generally friendly and well-behaved, and they can actually be quite     a laugh. You might, heaven forbid, enjoy yourself.’

‘You’ve done these camps before?’

‘A few. One in London, another in Liverpool. Coming here was a     way to launch possible camps all over Europe.’

‘Ambitious, aren’t you?’

Ben simply shrugged. ‘So? What do you have against it?’

She stared at him and he saw something flicker in those     hazel-green eyes, something that looked remarkably like fear. ‘I don’t know     anything about football,’ she finally said.

‘It’s not as if I’d expect you to coach.’

She didn’t speak for a long moment. With the tiniest flicker of     sympathy, Ben could just imagine how trapped she felt. Even he had been     surprised at how readily King Eduardo had agreed to his plan. The rather     dismissive way he’d discussed his daughter had caused Ben a ripple of unease.     Natalia may be spoilt, snobbish, vain and even useless, but she was still the     man’s child. He had spoken about her, at least a little bit, as if she were     nothing but a bother and embarrassment.

Finally she lifted her chin, settled her flintily determined     gaze upon him. ‘What would you have me do?’

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—’