by Sarah Morgan
Stunned, Zafiq found himself struggling for the right thing to say. ‘Rachid—’
‘I know that my mother is the reason you are not yet married. I know you feel our father gave in to her, but Sahra will not be like my mother,’ Rachid said firmly. ‘She does want something, but not jewels or dresses. If you take time to talk to her, I think you’ll find she’s changed.’
Changed?
Everyone around him appeared to be changing and he hadn’t noticed.
Cautious now, Zafiq gave up signing documents. ‘If there is something she wants, why doesn’t she ask me herself?’
‘Because she thinks you will say no.’
Was he such an ogre? ‘What is it she wants?’
‘Her own horse.’
‘A horse?’ Zafiq couldn’t have been more surprised if Rachid had told him his sister had wanted his permission to ride naked through the souk. ‘Sahra is terrified of horses. I have tried repeatedly to encourage her to ride. I’ve hired instructor after instructor and not one of them has managed to persuade her to stay on the animal for more than two minutes. She hates it.’
‘She has been riding every day for the past few weeks. She has conquered her nerves.’
Genuinely astonished, Zafiq spread his hands in question. ‘So who is responsible for this transformation? Presumably Yousif has appointed a good-looking jockey that I don’t know about.’
‘Bella,’ Rachid said simply, his eyes softening. ‘She has spent so much time with Sahra, teaching her. And she’s so brave and beautiful—she has been an inspiration to my sister. Sahra wants to ride like her, and—’
‘Bella? Bella Balfour?’ Aggravated that the mere sound of her name had the ability to ignite a fire storm within his body, Zafiq gave a low growl of impatience. ‘So she has found a way to avoid working by spending her time with a princess. I should have guessed she’d do anything possible to avoid hard graft.’
‘You’re wrong. Bella works harder than anyone. She helps Sahra when she finishes work. They’ve formed a bond.’
Zafiq’s eyes narrowed because he’d never seen such strength in his younger brother before. ‘What can Bella Balfour possibly teach Sahra that I would want her to learn?’ His own discomfort made his tone chillier than he intended. ‘How to use her looks to manipulate a man? How to ignore duty and responsibility?’
How to be exactly like his stepmother?
‘She has shown great responsibility. No one looks after Amira and Batal but her. Do you know she even sleeps in Amira’s stall now because she’s so afraid someone is going to try and steal the mare? Yousif tried to persuade her to go back to her room, but she refuses.’
Zafiq ruthlessly dismissed an unwanted image of Bella curled up asleep in a mound of straw. ‘Yousif should have told me he was having problems with her.’
‘Yousif adores her. Bella has become a favourite with everyone, especially the stable lads. They all love her.’
Zafiq ground his teeth, perfectly able to visualise what skills had led to such a sudden burst of approval from the palace staff. He knew better than anyone how far she’d go to get her own way. ‘Clearly Bella Balfour is more talented then even I gave her credit for.’
‘Oh, she is,’ Rachid said earnestly, missing the irony. ‘She has made some training suggestions that have made a great deal of difference. And she is the only person Batal doesn’t kick.’
Zafiq made a mental note to pay an early visit to the stable in order to watch Bella work her charm offensive. ‘So where does Sahra fit into this?’ His fingers closed on one of the sheets of paper and he scrunched it into a tight ball. ‘Why has no one mentioned her friend ship with Bella before now?’
‘Because of the way you’re reacting now! Mentioning Bella’s name in front of you is a sure way of putting you in a filthy mood. It isn’t like you. I’ve never seen you lose your cool before—’ Rachid flushed slightly. ‘I suppose it’s because you spent time with her in the desert. That must have been a difficult situation for you.’
Zafiq, who considered himself inscrutable, was stunned to discover that he’d revealed so much. ‘What do you mean, “difficult”?’
‘It’s obvious that the two of you didn’t get on, but you’re much too responsible a person to let her make her own way back through the desert so you were stuck with her. And I know she isn’t your type,’ his brother went on hastily. ‘She’s not exactly conventional, is she?’
Zafiq ground his teeth. ‘Conventional? No. She certainly isn’t conventional.’
‘And rescuing Bella meant you lost your few days of solitude. We all know you would have rather been on your own—’
Absorbing his brother’s interpretation of events in incredulous silence, Zafiq decided that it was better not to explore that particular topic in too much depth.
Rachid was still talking. ‘Honestly, Zafiq, she has added a great deal to Batal’s training. Before he threw Kamal she taught them something called a volte—it improves the horse’s balance apparently. Bella thinks if we can calm him down, it will help him win the cup.’
‘If we can find a rider who can stay in the saddle, then Batal will win the cup.’ Striding towards the door, Zafiq felt the tension spread across his shoulders.
‘Bella says it encourages engagement and power.’
‘Bella says, Bella says…’ Exasperated, Zafiq turned on his brother. ‘What qualifies Bella Balfour to change the training regime of my horses?’
‘She knows a lot about horses! Did you know she was selected for the British eventing team when she was six teen?’
No, she hadn’t mentioned that. ‘Did she win a medal?’
‘No, because there was a scandal and she ended up being deselected—’
‘Now that,’ Zafiq drawled, ‘sounds like Bella.’
‘You’re so hard on her!’ Rachid flew to her defence. ‘She’s had a difficult life—’ He clamped his mouth shut as if he’d said something he shouldn’t and Zafiq’s mouth tightened.
‘What do you know about her life?’
‘Quite a lot. She’s very chatty in the stables. Really down-to-earth and normal.’
And clever, Zafiq thought grimly. ‘You’re infatuated with her blonde hair and her blue eyes, Rachid. Don’t let that blind you to who she really is.’
‘Perhaps you are the one who is blind to who she really is.’ Rachid spoke quietly. ‘She’s a really sweet, kind girl.’
Zafiq looked at him closely, suddenly questioning why Rachid appeared instantly more grown-up and mature. He’d gone from boy to man in the space of a few weeks. Reflecting on the possible explanation for a change within that time frame, Zafiq felt a chill spread through his body.
No.
‘Just how far has your relationship with her gone?’
Rachid straightened his shoulders. ‘That’s none of your business.’
‘Answer my question.’
‘She isn’t interested in me, but if she were—’ Rachid broke off, and Zafiq made an impatient sound, engulfed by a tornado of emotions, none of which he cared to examine too closely.
‘You could not find a less suitable woman than Bella Balfour if you searched the planet. She is bold, out spoken, fearless.’ Catching Rachid’s stunned expression Zafiq realised that he’d done nothing but list her qualities. ‘And she’s emotional,’ he added swiftly. ‘Dealing with Bella is like dealing with a child. She shows no restraint. She has no idea how to behave.’
‘That’s what I find so refreshing,’ Rachid said earnestly. ‘One of the draw backs of our position is that people are afraid to be them selves around us. Don’t you find that, Zafiq? Bella is always herself. She says what she thinks. She isn’t afraid to challenge authority if she disagrees with something.’
Remembering all the ways she’d challenged his authority, Zafiq gave a low growl.
‘Enough talk about Bella Balfour!’
It was time he paid a visit to the stables.
Her limbs aching from another long day, Bel
la collapsed in the straw that lined Amira’s box.
The mare lowered her head and blew on her gently and Bella gave a groan and closed her eyes. ‘I’m so tired I could die. It’s riding that great brute Batal that finishes me off. He’s all muscle and I’m so worried that someone is going to recognise me that I can’t relax. Every time I ride him out, Hassan has to go and hide. It’s completely ridiculous that I can’t just ride as myself. I shall be glad when this stupid race is over. I’m only doing it for you, you know that, don’t you?’
Clearly oblivious to the enormous sacrifice being made for her, Amira started to munch hay and Bella smiled sleepily.
‘Ungrateful beast.’
She was drifting off when she heard the unmistakable crunch of a footstep in the yard outside.
Her senses on full alert, Bella sat up. Heart pounding, palms sweaty, she reached through the straw and closed her fingers around the heavy stick she’d buried there just in case.
They’d come for Amira.
Where were the guards that Zafiq had posted in the yard?
And then she remembered that the guards at the stables near the Retreat had been paid to be absent at the crucial moment.
Amira continued to eat and Bella stood slowly, holding her breath, careful to make no sound. She looked at the beautiful mare—the horse that meant so much to the people of Al-Rafid—and felt the full force of responsibility.
Once again she was all that stood between Amira and them.
Last time she hadn’t known the risk she was taking. Now she knew, and she was horribly conscious that she was no match for a group of organised criminals.
Reminding herself that she had the element of surprise on her side, she told herself that she had to act quickly. No hesitation.
If someone was going to harm Zafiq’s horse, they were going to have to go through her.
She watched, terrified, as a strong male hand grasped the bolt, shot it back and opened the stable door.
Her heart thundering, Bella grasped the stick with both hands and lifted it, inching to one side so that she could hit the man and not the horse.
In the shadowy light she could see that he was tall and powerfully built and her stomach cramped because her chances of defending Amira against someone as muscular as this man were remote. Swiftly she revised her plan.
As he raised his hand to the horse Bella gave a hiss.
‘Get away from her—slowly. I know exactly who you are and what you’re doing and I have a weapon pointed straight at you. Step away slowly or I will shoot you.’
‘If you know exactly who I am and what I’m doing, then why would you need a weapon? And it’s hard to shoot someone with a stick.’
Recognising Zafiq’s dry, sarcastic drawl, Bella’s knees flooded with relief and she dropped the stick and sagged against the wall. ‘Oh, it’s you!’ She pressed her hand to her chest, feeling her heart banging. ‘You frightened the life out of me!’
‘Is that why you were holding a stick?’ He flashed a torch in her direction and Bella turned her head away, squinting against the light.
‘I thought someone was after Amira.’ She slid back down on the straw, wobbly as a newborn foal. ‘What are you doing here? You wanted to give me a heart attack and finish me off altogether?’ Now that her eyes had adjusted, she could just about make out his features and she wondered why she hadn’t recognised him instantly when every contour of his body was indelibly printed into her brain.
‘I heard a rumour that you were sleeping in the stable.’
‘Why would that bother you?’
‘Party-girl Bella Balfour living in a heap of straw, no hot or cold running water?’
‘I lived in a tent with you for four days,’ she snapped, her body still weak from reaction, ‘and that wasn’t exactly a five-star experience. Where are the guards?’
‘obviously they know better than to arrest the Sheikh.’
‘I thought they might have been paid off, like last time.’
‘The guards in Al-Rafid are fiercely loyal to me. They cannot be bribed. What is this about, Bella?’ His tone was cold and hard. ‘Rising at five every morning and working until your hands bleed? Sleeping with my horse? It seems you’ve gone out of your way to charm everyone, including my brother. What are you playing at?’
Taken aback by his savage tone and the injustice of what he was saying, Bella glared at him. ‘I’m working, not playing. I’m working a fourteen-hour day and then I’m sleeping here. You think I’m having sex with everyone in your stables, is that what you’re saying?’ Still over wrought from thinking someone was going to steal Amira, her voice was shrill. ‘You think that the only way anyone is ever going to have anything nice to say about me is if they’ve slept with me!’
He was across the stable before she could move, his hands lifting her in a single powerful movement, his body pressing hers against the wall. ‘I want to know how far it’s gone with my brother. Rachid is very young and he has no experience of women like you—’
Over tired, shocked to see him again and bitterly hurt by his cynical view of her, Bella exploded. ‘I can’t win, can I? I’ve been working myself to the bone to make sure no one could complain about me! I don’t have a single decent nail left, I haven’t washed my hair for a week and I’m covered in bruises from—’ She was about to say your stallion, but just stopped herself in time. ‘Frankly I wouldn’t have the energy for sex even if the opportunity presented itself so you can take your jealousy else where!’
‘I’m not jealous.’ His thickened tone cut through the tense atmosphere and his hands tightened on her shoulders. ‘And your morals are your own business.’
‘Then why are you so angry? If you don’t care, why are you standing there yelling at me?’
‘Because Rachid can’t cope with a woman like you.’
‘Rachid can cope with a great deal more than you think.’ She thought back to the numerous conversations she’d had with the prince since that first day. ‘He wants more responsibility, Zafiq, but the problem is you’re so brilliant at everything he feels daunted! You need to praise him, make him feel good about himself! Not everyone is as confident as you are—being given responsibility helps confidence.’
‘What do you know about responsibility?’
It was a fair comment, but Bella was too wound up to be reasonable. ‘I know how it feels never to be given any! Your siblings aren’t children any more. Take a tip from me—if you believe someone will always screw up, then they probably will. Why don’t you try showing some faith in people and see what happens? You can practise on me for a start! I’ve been busting a gut here to make sure I don’t put a foot wrong and you haven’t once bothered to come down and say I’m doing well. You told me I’d last a day, and I’ve been here a month so stick that in your…your…Bedouin tea and drink it,’ she finished lamely.
He released her so suddenly that she staggered and Bella rubbed her hands down her arms, not because he’d hurt her but because being held by him had felt unbelievably good after all these weeks without him. She’d been in a different sort of desert, she thought miserably. A barren wilderness without Zafiq.
‘You seem to know a great deal about my family. You will tell me who has been gossiping about Rachid.’
‘No one has been gossiping! I’ve talked to him in person. Believe it or not, we have quite a lot in common! I know what it’s like to have a glamorous, high-spending mother. And I know how it feels to hear everyone around you criticising the person you were raised to love.’
Amira shifted in the box and Zafiq put out a hand to calm the animal. ‘Our family situation is extremely complicated—’
‘Don’t talk to me about complicated!’ Bella erupted, and suddenly all the emotions she’d been bottling up exploded to the surface, refusing to be contained. ‘Six weeks ago I discovered that my younger sister—my sister who I’ve lived with all my life, my sister who I went to school with and played with—isn’t my father’s child and that my moth
er wasn’t the saintly person I always thought she was. My father hates me, the whole world hates me, my younger sister hates me and even my twin has turned her back on me, so don’t talk to me about complicated!’
Damn, damn, damn.
Why couldn’t she be icily calm? Why couldn’t she ever keep herself together when she needed to?
Her outburst was greeted by a prolonged silence and then he raked his fingers through his hair, his own control clearly challenged. ‘You are so emotional. I am quite sure your father does not hate you,’ Zafiq breathed, ‘and perhaps it would be wise to consider the possibility that your sister has not turned her back on you, but been unable to get in touch. You’ve been marooned in the desert. And as for the world—the world’s opinion doesn’t matter.’
‘Try seeing your face splashed over every newspaper before you say that.’ Bella gave an undignified sniff and wiped her eyes on her T-shirt, furious with herself for crying. ‘And maybe my father doesn’t exactly hate me, but he certainly can’t bear to look at me because I remind him of my mother, and that’s pretty hurtful, I can tell you.’
‘Your mother died when you were a baby.’
‘Yeah—’ Bella’s voice was husky and she cleared her throat. ‘All I had was a memory and that’s not looking too good right now.’
‘Your mother must have been an extremely beautiful woman and extreme beauty often brings complications,’ Zafiq said quietly, and Bella flushed slightly, wishing she wasn’t so aware of everything he said and did.
‘Well, her beauty obviously didn’t make her happy. And that’s because she was stupid enough to marry a man she didn’t love.’
‘Like most women, you insist on linking marriage with romance.’
‘With good reason!’ Bella walked over to Amira and buried her face in the mare’s neck, seeking comfort. She felt angry with her mother, angry with her father and angry with herself. ‘My father thought she was in love with him, but she wasn’t. She just wanted the Balfour name and the money. If you don’t care about a person, you shouldn’t get married.’