Santina's Scandalous Princess

Ben cursed aloud.

* * *

Thank goodness it was the weekend. She didn’t have to see Ben for two whole days. Maybe, Natalia hoped, knowing it was futile, she’d have put the whole sorry episode behind her by Monday morning. Maybe she’d have forgotten it completely, or at least stopped remembering the sweet slide of his lips against hers every second of the day.

The weekend was endless. She thought about him constantly, wondered what he was thinking. Feeling. Wearing, even. She felt like a teenager with a first crush, except she’d never felt like this as a teen. This was deeper, darker, more dangerous, and yet infinitely sweeter too, and that made it all the more painful.

She relived the moment he’d pushed her away from him over and over again. He’d acted out of instinct, which made it worse. He’d been desperate to distance himself and the thought hurt more than it should. It shouldn’t hurt at all; it had just been a kiss.

A lot more than a kiss, Natalia acknowledged grimly. A lot more than even just sex. Her heart was involved; she felt it twist and splinter, jagged shards of disappointment digging into her soul. This was why she didn’t believe in true love. This was why she didn’t get involved with men she could care about. Until Ben.

How had he done it? Why had she let him?

On Saturday evening she’d broken down and rung Carlotta. She needed to talk to someone, someone who knew her. She felt a prickly, uncomfortable guilt in ringing her twin; she’d distanced herself from Carlotta since she’d had her son, Luca, five years ago. It had been an instinctive and unconscious decision, not that different from Ben pushing her off his lap, Natalia realised with a jolt. A means of self-protection. Carlotta’s life had changed so dramatically, and hers hadn’t. Carlotta had moved to Italy, had lived a quiet, sober life that Natalia secretly envied in its independence and freedom even as she witnessed Carlotta’s heartbreak and sorrow.

Carlotta answered on the first ring. ‘Natalia?’

‘Ciao, Lotta.’ The nickname from childhood slipped out instinctively.

Carlotta must have guessed something from her tone—or the nickname—for she asked quietly, ‘Natalia, what’s wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ Natalia said quickly. Her default was always to deny. It was so much easier that way, and she’d been doing it for so long. She knew what happened when you admitted weakness, gave in to fear. Shame followed, and humiliation. Hurt and pain. She swallowed, the simple movement aching. ‘Congratulations on your engagement.’ Her sister’s engagement to Prince Rodriguez—as well as Sophia’s marriage to Ash—had been in the papers. Natalia hadn’t read the articles, but she’d heard the details from her mother. Everyone was doing their royal duty, it seemed, except her.

She was falling for exactly the wrong kind of man.

‘Natalia?’ Carlotta questioned softly. ‘Something is wrong. I can tell by your voice. What is it?’

‘I…’ Natalia closed her eyes, felt the pressure of tears behind her lids. So much was wrong. She felt the weight of everything—her own choices and failures, Ben’s rejection, the hopelessness of her future—all of it pressing down on her, crippling her. How could she live with it all? How could she go on? ‘I just wanted to talk to you,’ she finally said. ‘And see how you were doing.’

Carlotta was silent, and Natalia knew she hadn’t fooled her sister. Weren’t they twins? Didn’t they sense each other’s moods almost before the other even felt it? ‘I’m fine,’ she finally said.

‘Are you really?’ Natalia burst out. ‘I mean…this marriage…’

‘I’m only doing what we all must do,’ Carlotta cut her off, her voice quiet and final. ‘I’m more worried about you, Natalia. What is going on? We haven’t spoken—’

‘In years. I know.’

‘Not years,’ Carlotta said wryly.

‘We haven’t had a real conversation in years,’ Natalia amended. She hadn’t had a real conversation with anyone. Except Ben. And now she craved more of it, even as it frightened her. ‘Carlotta,’ she burst out suddenly, ‘I just wanted to say I’m sorry for not being there when you had Luca. And after, I…’ She swallowed, searched for words. ‘I was afraid.’

‘I know you were, Natalia.’ She heard no condemnation in Carlotta’s voice.

‘And angry,’ Natalia confessed in a whisper. ‘About a lot of things. About how you were treated, and how it would change things. I felt like you were moving on to this whole new life without me.’