by Sarah Morgan
‘I’m not playing tricks,’ Bella lied, piqued that she was still unable to penetrate that iron control of his. Even though he was flatteringly attentive when they were in bed, she didn’t fool herself that she was able to manipulate him. ‘My father sent me here because he thought I needed a break. Tell me why the horses don’t seem to mind the heat and the dust.’
Apart from a lingering look, he accepted the change of subject without argument. ‘The Arabian horse was bred to cope with the demands of this environment. The Bedouins were the Arab horse’s first protectors.’
‘So Batal has a good blood line.’
‘As does your mare.’ Zafiq glanced across at her. ‘To the Bedouin, yours would be the more valuable animal. They preferred mares. They rode on horse back to attack neighbouring tribes and steal their cattle, and a stallion would be more likely to make a noise and alert the enemy.’
‘Girl power,’ Bella said with delight, stroking the mare’s neck. ‘I had no idea Amira is so valuable. No wonder you were so angry when you saw me riding her in the desert. Sorry.’
‘Don’t be sorry. I may even have reason to thank you for your impulsive actions that day. The security at the stables was lax.’ His eyes darkened like a menacing storm cloud. ‘And I have my suspicions as to why…’
Bella looked at him expectantly. ‘Well? You can’t say something like that and then not finish the sentence! Why was security lax? To be honest I thought it was weird—one minute there were guards, and the next there was no one there. The place was empty.’
His jaw tightened. ‘Amira is the most valuable animal I own.’
‘If she’s that valuable, why was she stuck in stables in the middle of nowhere?’
‘Precisely because she is that valuable.’ He hesitated, as if he were making up his mind whether she could be trusted or not. ‘Breeding and racing Arab horses is a passion of mine. A lucrative passion. Unfortunately, some are jealous of the success I’ve been enjoying. The Al-Rafid Cup approaches and tensions are running high.’
‘I presume the Al-Rafid Cup is a horse race.’
‘It is a world-famous desert race that will be run a month from now. The winner of that race achieves much international prestige.’
Bella was intrigued. ‘And my Amira is going to run in that race?’
‘No, Batal will run in the race. And he will win.’
‘So what’s that got to do with Amira?’
‘The tradition is that the winner receives the best mare in the loser’s stable. If I lose, they will choose Amira.’
Bella felt a flash of horror at the thought of this beautiful horse going to a nameless stranger. ‘So what are you going to do about that?’
He gave a deadly smile. ‘I don’t intend to lose. However, I suspect that someone out there is exploring more creative ways of obtaining Amira. She is one of the most coveted mares in the world. She has already produced three Derby winners.’
Bella bristled. ‘Then you should have had security!’
‘There was security—’ Zafiq gave a humourless smile ‘—but clearly something went badly amiss. If you hadn’t wandered in when you did…’
‘You think they were about to steal her?’ Faint with horror, Bella tightened her grip on the reins. ‘Poor Amira. That’s so shocking—I wish I’d met them!’
Zafiq inhaled sharply and shot her a horrified look. ‘That would not have been good for you.’
‘It wouldn’t have been good for them if I’d known they were stealing a horse!’
‘You were stealing a horse,’ Zafiq pointed out drily, and Bella shrugged defensively.
‘Actually, I wasn’t. Not really. I was borrowing her. Short-term. That’s completely different.’
‘Your moral code seems a little confused.’
‘Blame it on two weeks in the Retreat. It drove me to a life of crime.’ Bella rubbed her hand down Amira’s mane protectively. ‘So you hid her out here in the desert so that she’d be safe. But someone found out. And they were going to steal her. But the simplest thing would be to make sure that Batal doesn’t win the Al-Rafid Cup, wouldn’t it? So basically, both horses are at risk.’
‘It would seem so.’ Zafiq’s eyes hardened and his tone was cold.
Bella tightened her fingers on the reins and glanced over her shoulder even though she knew they were the only people for miles. ‘If you know who this person is, can’t you stop them? Arrest them or something?’
‘Not without evidence, although I do have people working on that.’
‘You could just pull him out of the race.’
‘No. Batal deserves to win. He will win.’ The stallion swished his tail, as if he were agreeing with that statement. But Bella was still worried.
‘But if they’re willing to resort to theft—if Amira’s that clever and valuable—I shouldn’t be riding her,’ she said humbly, and Zafiq laughed.
‘Do you think I would have let you if I had not been confident in your skills?’ His eyes warmed slightly. ‘You have an amazing bond with her. I saw that when I rescued you from the desert. She didn’t leave you. And you ride well. You have a natural gift with horses.’
Ridiculously pleased by his praise, Bella gave a half-smile. ‘You think so?’
‘Yes. And you are less self-conscious when you are around the animals. You have stopped looking at your reflection in my dagger and worrying about your appearance.’
Had she?
Stunned by that observation, Bella frowned and realised that it was probably true.
And she knew why. He made her feel beautiful. For once, she didn’t need a mirror because she didn’t feel judged.
‘Before I was sent off to boarding school, I never thought about how I looked.’ It was something that hadn’t occurred to her before. ‘I just spent my whole life in the stables. With the horses.’ And being forced to exist without them had been torture.
‘You owned a horse as a child?’
Thinking of the stable full of horses at Balfour Manor, Bella flushed. ‘Well, I…rode quite often, yes. But not lately—’ Lately she’d been too busy messing up her life. ‘As a child it was my hobby.’ She hesitated, looking back on those days with a slightly sick feeling. ‘Three-day eventing—I don’t know if you have that here. Dressage, cross-country and show jumping.’
Should she have told him that much about herself? Bella stared at Amira’s mane, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut but then she reassured herself that Zafiq didn’t know anything about her past. He wasn’t going to know she’d been selected for the junior eventing squad when she was sixteen. He wasn’t going to have seen the newspaper coverage about her blowing her big chance.
‘Eventing takes considerable all-round skill.’ He looked at her with new respect. ‘Here, our passion is flat racing. It is a tradition that goes back centuries.’
‘On a race track?’
‘We have a famous race track in Al-Rafid, but the Al-Rafid Cup is raced in the desert.’
‘Isn’t that tough on the horses?’
‘It is a short race, run in the early morning when the air is cooler.’
‘But if someone really is trying to steal Amira, how are you going to keep her safe?’
‘She is safe here, with us.’
Us.
Bella wondered if he even realised what he’d said. Somehow over the past few days, they’d become a pair. A unit.
She concentrated again on the horse’s mane, terrified by what she was feeling. This man wasn’t right for her and this life wasn’t real, so why was she suddenly wishing she could stay in the desert forever?
Shaken by the thought, she glanced at the black stallion, who was prancing along the sand sideways, desperate to be allowed another burst of speed. ‘He’s so beautiful I’m surprised no one has tried to steal him too.’
‘Batal is infamous for his uncertain temper,’ Zafiq said drily. ‘No one who prefers their bones to be attached to one another, would steal this stallion.’
‘I
think he’s a very genuine, gentle horse.’
‘With you he does seem to be astonishingly well behaved.’ Zafiq gave a faint smile. ‘It’s a compliment. Batal isn’t renowned for his people skills. If he were human he would have been sent to anger-management classes long ago.’
‘I think he’s sulking because Amira almost beat him in the race.’ Bella watched as the stallion’s ears twitched. ‘Are you afraid of being beaten by a woman, Batal? Just like your master. That’s why I had to let him win in the pool. To protect his male ego.’
‘My ego needs no protection,’ Zafiq drawled, and Bella narrowed her eyes and shifted in her saddle.
‘Race me again, then. No favours. The gloves are off.’
‘You are incapable of racing fairly. I can guarantee that the moment I’m about to start, you will remove your top or smile at me.’
Bella laughed. ‘Am I that bad?’
‘You are the most maddening, infuriating and seductive woman I’ve ever met.’
Her stomach flipped. They weren’t words of affection, but hearing that he found her seductive was better than nothing.
Flustered, she changed the subject again. ‘So shouldn’t we tell the stables that Amira is safe with you? They’ll think she’s been stolen.’
‘They know she’s with me.’
‘How can they possibly know she’s with you? Does she have a homing beacon or something? Satellite tracking device?’
‘I used the phone.’
Bella frowned in confusion. ‘But you told me you didn’t have a phone!’
‘No. I said I wouldn’t contact anyone to have you taken to civilisation.’ He delivered the facts in typically masculine style. ‘Unfortunately my position makes it impossible for me to be truly out of contact. The phone is for emergencies.’
‘Your horse was an emergency?’
‘She is a valuable animal. If I hadn’t contacted them there would have been a search party and many people would have been inconvenienced—’ he hesitated ‘—also, they would have come looking for you. And that would have led them to me.’
‘So people really don’t know exactly where you are.’
‘No, but they know they can contact me in a crisis.’
‘Can’t they handle it without you?’
‘I hope so.’ Cool and unconcerned, he guided the stallion to the right, reading the ground and avoiding potential dangers. ‘My brother is in charge—’
‘Don’t tell me—he’s always been jealous that you’re the eldest,’ Bella improvised wildly, ‘and while you’re away he’s gathering together all his supporters so that he can over throw you. Maybe he’s the one who wants Batal to lose the race.’
Zafiq’s eyes gleamed with amusement. ‘My brother feels nothing but relief that the burden of responsibility is mine. He is a mild-mannered, overly sensitive, generous-spirited young man who lacks confidence. And he has charge of my stables.’
‘Sensitive and lacking in confidence? And he’s related to you?’ Bella rubbed her hand over Amira’s neck, a smile on her face. ‘You’re obviously at different ends of the gene pool.’
‘He is my father’s son by his second wife.’
‘Oh—’ Her smile faded. ‘I’d forgotten you had a wicked stepmother too.’
‘You had a wicked stepmother?’
Bella thought of Tilly and Lillian and flushed. ‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘Not wicked.’ But neither had loved her, had they? Even her own father struggled to look at her. And now she understood why. Everything had been revealed on the night of the Balfour Ball. ‘So he’s your half-brother.’
Zafiq frowned, as if the term somehow offended him. ‘I think of Rachid as my brother in every sense of the word.’
Bella’s heart fluttered as she thought of what had happened the night of the ball. ‘So, you don’t think it matters that you have different biological parents?’
‘We were brought up together. We were raised as brothers.’
It was a different situation, Bella told herself numbly. His family didn’t involve lies and deceit. ‘You were really fond of your stepmother, then.’
Zafiq’s mouth tightened. ‘Didn’t you suggest that we drop this topic?’
She glanced at his profile, stunned by the sudden change in him. He was remote and intimidating, very much the ruling sheikh. Clearly things weren’t as smooth in his family as she’d first thought.
‘Sorry, I thought—’
‘Enough talking. I agree with your earlier suggestion—let’s ride.’ Without waiting for her response, he urged the stallion into a gallop, and Bella’s mare threw up her head in excitement.
‘At a guess I’d say he wasn’t that fond of his stepmother,’ Bella muttered, letting Amira have her head. ‘Which just goes to show that families have a lot to answer for.’
She rode into the camp just a few seconds behind him, the heat closing in on her and her mouth dry from the dust. Sliding off the mare, she patted her and took her across to the water.
Almost immediately she felt Zafiq behind her. His strong hands closed over her hips and he wrenched off her tunic and trousers, his mouth on her neck as he stripped her naked.
‘I have been waiting to do this all evening. Watching you on the horse has been driving me mad.’
Bella gasped, liquid heat pouring through her body and pooling low in her pelvis. Her knees buckled and she felt a rush of embarrassment because she wanted him so badly and she knew she shouldn’t. She turned in his arms and kissed him hungrily, her hands sliding over his bare torso, her mouth locked against the fierce demand of his. They fell to the ground, onto the rug that still held the remains of their earlier meal, not even bothering to make it the last few metres to the tent.
In the back ground Bella could hear the horses drinking and a faint splash as something fell and disturbed the stillness of the pool. Somehow the sounds of the open air were more evocative than any romantic music had ever been.
I’m never going to forget the desert, was her last coherent though before he sank into her in a single determined thrust that joined them completely.
She groaned his name and his hand cupped her face.
‘Look at me,’ he demanded huskily, and Bella stared up into his eyes and realised she’d never experienced intimacy before this moment. Never before had she stared into a man’s eyes as he made love to her, never before had she felt what she was feeling now. It was so real.
And yet how could it be real when they both had to return to their real lives?
How could it be real when he didn’t even know who she really was?
Zafiq stood with the satellite phone to his ear, listening to the panic in his younger brother’s voice. After making a few soothing noises, he sorted out each problem one at a time, issuing instructions and commands with cool authority. Only once did he falter and that was when his brother asked if he could cut his trip short by a day and return home early.
Zafiq’s hand tightened on the phone, the fact that he didn’t want to cut it short saying a great deal about his current state of mind.
Weakness, he thought grimly, cutting the connection and staring at the white canvas of the tent. The fact that he’d succumbed to her in the first place was a sign of weakness.
‘Who were you talking to?’
Her voice came from behind him and Zafiq felt a stab of guilt as he turned.
She was standing in the opening of the tent, watching him with a smile.
The fact that her smile made him want to strip off her tunic and flatten her to the bed reinforced the decision he’d made.
‘My brother needed to speak to me urgently.’ He knew he was going to hurt her and he was surprised by how badly he didn’t want to do that.
‘What about? Is something wrong?’ She strolled across to him, her feet bare, the dampness of her hair telling him she’d been enjoying the pool while he’d been on the phone. She slid her arms around his waist and Zafiq felt his body respond with predictable force. Heat erupted through
him and he closed his hands around her arms and lowered his head.
Staring into those gorgeous blue eyes, something hard and uncomfortable formed inside him.
Was this how it had been for his father?
With a rough curse he put her away from him, like an addict denying a fix.
‘Zafiq? What’s happening? Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘You’ve achieved your wish.’ Stunned by the need gnawing at him, Zafiq reached for his robe and drew it over his head, forcing himself to ignore the urge to tumble her back onto the bed. ‘I’m taking you back to civilization, habibiti.’
Silence greeted his announcement and when she did speak there was a frantic note to her voice. ‘What? When?’
‘Right now.’ Before he gave in to the wild, ravenous craving that was threatening to snap his self-control.
‘But I thought we had another day.’ There was panic in her voice and the hand that pushed her hair away from her face was shaking. ‘It’s just—you said you were here for five days.’
She’d been counting.
Zafiq picked up his knife, his knuckles white as he grasped the handle. ‘I am needed at the palace.’
‘But—’
‘I am needed!’ He didn’t look at her and it shamed him to admit even to himself that her influence over him was so great that he didn’t dare look her in the eye in case he gave in to temptation.
Life gave you difficult choices, he reminded himself grimly, and the important thing was to make the right ones. ‘We’ll return to the city before dark.’
‘That soon? We could stay one more night and go in the morning—’ Her voice faltered and Zafiq took a step backwards, battling a powerful urge to take her in his arms.
‘I’ll prepare the horses.’ Determined that this was one test he was not going to fail, he forced himself to ignore her slumped shoulders and strode out of the tent.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE horses walked through dusty streets, past a souk selling brightly coloured silks, spices and jewellery and finally through an arched gateway that took them within the palace walls.