Santina's Scandalous Princess

‘I had to have it washed,’ Natalia told him. ‘So if it really     is required uniform, perhaps you could find a spare?’

He nodded tersely, not wanting to dwell on it or how enticing     she looked in the clothes she’d chosen to wear. He shouldn’t have brought it up     in the first place. ‘Tell me, Natalia, how is it that in twenty-four hours     you’ve managed to put this entire enterprise into complete disarray?’

‘Natural talent, I suppose.’

Ben planted his fists on his desk and leaned forward. ‘Do you     realise,’ he demanded, ‘how much harm your stupid little ploy has caused?’

Natalia blinked, surprise flashing across her features at the     restrained fury in his tone. Then her face cleared of all expression except     perhaps boredom. ‘Which stupid little ploy,’ she drawled, ‘are you referring     to?’

‘You didn’t read the papers this morning?’

‘I make a point never to look at them.’

‘How surprising. I would have thought you’d enjoy such an     exercise.’

‘Just more proof of how little you know me.’

‘What I know,’ Ben gritted, ‘is your little plan to take my     employees out to lunch and then trip all over me worked admirably. The press     have sunk their teeth into the story and are claiming the only reason I’m     sponsoring this sports camp is as a cover to get into your bed.’

‘How ridiculous,’ she scoffed. ‘Surely there’s an easier way to     get into my bed.’

For a split second Ben once again had the bizarre sense that     she was putting herself down on purpose, and he felt his anger drain away. He     realized he was overreacting, and he knew it was because of his own experiences     with the press. Still he could not get the bitter taste out of his mouth, the     sickening feeling of being used and manipulated simply for the sake of a     photograph. ‘Read that,’ he said, thrusting a paper into her hands.

She took it, glancing down at it without seeming to

really read it. After a few seconds she tossed it back onto the desk. ‘All     of it drivel. Just ignore it. It’s just a trashy tabloid anyway.’

‘Did you read it?’ Ben demanded,     and she blinked.

‘I scanned it.’

‘Did you see the accusations they were making against the     camp?’

She lifted one slender shoulder in an aggravatingly dismissive     shrug. ‘It’s just gossip.’

‘Which you obviously don’t care about,’ Ben snapped, ‘based on     how heavily you’re featured in these rags. I know you court the tabloids,     Princess. You make sure they get all the photos they want of you at all your     high-flying parties.’ She said nothing, only lifted her chin in challenge, which     infuriated him all the more. ‘I read an astonishingly thorough exposé of an     affair you had with some Frenchman,’ he drawled, ‘including rather intimate     details you were clearly happy to provide.’

She stilled, and Ben had an odd sense that she’d somehow     retreated from him even though she hadn’t moved. ‘You’ve really done your     research, Ben,’ she said with a cool little smile. ‘I’m so impressed.’

‘Trust me, it didn’t take much. Just pick up a paper.’

‘You’ve made your point.’

Ben sighed, raking a hand through his hair. ‘My point, Natalia,     is that I run a respectable business, with sensitive, high-profile clients who     come to me for discreet financial advice. This kind of exposure is exactly what     I don’t want and can’t have.’

‘Then maybe you shouldn’t have asked me to volunteer.’

‘Maybe I shouldn’t have,’ Ben agreed. He’d thought he could     handle the press, handle her, but right now he felt like he couldn’t. He felt     like he was spinning out of control, and not just because of the press. Because     of her.

‘So,’ Natalia said, ‘is that it? You lasted one day with     me?’

‘Not a chance, Princess. I never lose a bet.’