Santina's Scandalous Princess

‘Now that’s not going to happen too often,’ Ben told the children with a smile. ‘When players want to score a goal, they’re going to kick hard. They’re going to give it everything they’ve got, and you have to brace yourselves for that.’ He turned back to Natalia, and she tensed. ‘Ready?’ he asked her, and tersely she nodded.

He kicked the ball hard, but not too hard. With taut effort she was able to keep it from getting in the goal. Ben turned back to the children. ‘Now Princess Natalia really wants to keep me from scoring,’ he said with a smile, although Natalia detected a slight edge to his voice. ‘But sometimes, when a football is coming straight at you, and all you can see is that hard and fast-moving ball, you’re scared. That’s understandable. You’re afraid to commit to the maneuver.’

Natalia tensed again. She had a feeling Ben was talking about something more than football. Something a whole lot more personal. He raised his voice so every child could hear. So she could hear. ‘That’s when you’ve got to be brave,’ he said. ‘That’s when you’ve got to give this game everything you’ve got.’

Tears stung Natalia’s eyes. She hadn’t been brave. She’d been so afraid, but it was too late. The game was over for them, even if Ben didn’t realise it.

‘Now,’ Ben said, ‘it’s my turn. Princess Natalia will kick the ball to me.’ As he passed her the football, he murmured, ‘Kick it to the outside post, if you can.’

Natalia had no idea what he was getting at now, but she nodded. She thought she could manage that. She turned to face Ben, saw him prepare for the kick, his muscular body taut and achingly beautiful.

‘Sometimes,’ he said, his gaze fastened to hers, boring into her soul, ‘you’ve got to let yourself really go. More than you ever would. More than you want to.’ He nodded at her, and she kicked the ball to the corner of the goal.

Ben dived for it, the extension elegant and total, his body nearly parallel to the ground, his arms outstretched. He was completely committed to the dive. Everyone watched in awe as he caught the ball and fell to the ground, landing on his shoulder and side before rolling into a sitting position. He turned to the crowd of children with a triumphant smile.

‘You see? I didn’t even get hurt. At least, not more than a little.’ His gaze moved to Natalia, settled on her with unmistakable emphasis. ‘But it was worth it.’

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

NATALIA didn’t talk to Ben for the rest of the day, but his words raced through her mind, churned in her gut. You’re afraid to commit. That’s when you’ve got to be brave. That’s when you’ve got to give this game everything you’ve got.

He’d been talking to her, she knew it. Talking about them. And maybe she should have been braver. Maybe she could have given more. It didn’t matter now. It was too late. In a few days her marriage would be announced. Natalia took a deep breath. She knew it was too little, too late, but at least she could be honest with Ben now. Even if it couldn’t change things.

She waited until the children were trickling away, the stadium empty and silent. Natalia moved around the pitch gathering all the footballs that had rolled too far away for anyone to bother with. She put them all in the net bag and then dragged it over to the folding table where Ben stood, frowning at some papers there.

‘Ben,’ she said quietly, and he tapped what she saw was a newspaper.

‘Read that.’

Funny, how easy it was after all this time, to tell him her secret. Strange how it really didn’t matter any more. Was this what she had been so afraid of? But no, it had been so much more. It had been everything, all of it, the intimacy and the need. ‘I can’t,’ she said flatly. Ben stared at her, completely nonplussed. ‘I’m dyslexic,’ Natalia elaborated, her voice still flat and strangely loud in the yawning emptiness of the stadium. ‘Severely so. I can barely read or write.’

Now Ben looked completely gobsmacked, his jaw slack, his eyes wide. It would have been amusing in any other circumstance. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he finally asked. ‘I would have made concessions—’

‘I didn’t want concessions,’ she told him. ‘I never have. And in any case, only a few people know.’ Her lips twisted in a humourless smile. ‘It’s a bit of a family secret.’

He shook his head, still flummoxed, not understanding. ‘Why?’

She shrugged, not wanting to go into it or invite pity. ‘Bad publicity,’ she finally said, and he frowned, his eyebrows rising in disbelief.