by Sarah Morgan
Her hand still on Amira’s back, Bella turned to look at him. ‘It’s inevitable, isn’t it? If you marry someone you don’t love, at some point you’re going to meet someone you do love. You’re going to meet someone who makes you feel something you didn’t know it was possible to feel. And you’re going to realise that feeling is more important to you than money or status. And it isn’t going to matter that the relationship isn’t possible or that you’re totally unsuited—because once you realise you’re in love, you’ve basically got two choices. You go for it, and you wreck loads of lives along the way, or you decide you’re going to do the “right thing” and stay, making yourself and everyone around you miserable in the process because you know you’ve missed your one chance of happiness. So either way, getting married when you’re not in love means you’re going to wind up miserable.’
Zafiq said nothing and Bella turned back to the horse.
‘The funny thing was—there wasn’t any money.’ Her voice was muffled against the mare’s smooth coat. ‘It had all gone and getting everything back became an obsession for my father. And my mother hated that obsession. She hated everything Balfour. So she had an affair. And she died giving birth to that child. My little sister, Zoe. The one I messed up just before I came here.’ Crying now, Bella hugged Amira, past caring that she was making a fool of herself. ‘Do you believe in justice, Zafiq? Is that why she died?’
‘Are you crying for your mother or your sister?’ Strong hands prised her away from the horse. ‘You are torturing yourself—’ Without allowing her to resist, he pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly, and it felt so good to be held that for a moment Bella just stood there, breathing in his masculine scent, revelling in the feeling of being close to him again.
But it wasn’t real, was it?
Until she’d started crying, he hadn’t touched her. It wasn’t personal.
It was time she learned to stand on her own two feet.
‘Let me go, Zafiq,’ she muttered. ‘I know you hate crying women. Sahra told me.’
‘That is because Sahra uses tears like currency—she trades them for whatever she wants.’ Zafiq stroked her hair away from her face, forcing her to look at him. ‘Is this why you were in the Retreat? Escaping from the scandal?’
It horrified her that he’d obviously read what had been written about her. ‘Which headline did you like best? Blue Blood Turns Bad? Illegitimate Daughter Revealed at Balfour Ball?’ The headlines were engraved in her brain and she squirmed as she remembered the salacious, vindictive things that had been printed. ‘Balfour Family in Ruins was quite a juicy one.’
‘Stop pretending you don’t care.’
‘I shouldn’t care. I’ve had it for most of my life. I’ve been the “bad twin” since I was packed off to boarding school. I even lived up to the nickname the press gave me.’
He gave a sardonic smile. ‘Did it work?’
‘Did what work?’
‘The attention-seeking behaviour?’
‘No. To get attention, there has to be someone around to give you attention.’ Bella sniffed. ‘My mother died, stepmother number one dumped me in boarding school and left me to fend for myself and then a few months ago—’ she swallowed ‘—my second stepmother, Lillian, died. I didn’t spend much time with her but she was a good person. And she didn’t deserve my father. So you can see that it’s pretty hard being saintly in our family, with him as an example. And pretty hard being told to mend your ways by someone like him.’ She tried to pull away but Zafiq was still holding her firmly, his eyes fixed on hers as he prised the truth from her.
‘Are you telling me he sent you alone to the Retreat just after discovering that your sister was the child of another man and that your mother had an affair?’
‘I was supposed to think about my behaviour and memorise my Balfour rule. Dignity—’ She imitated her father’s voice perfectly. ‘“A Balfour must strive never to bring the family name into disrepute through unbecoming conduct, criminal activity or disrespectful attitudes towards others.”’
‘You are supposed to follow that rule?’
‘Until I stole Amira I’ve never indulged in criminal activity,’ Bella muttered, ‘but I guess I’ve pretty much ticked all the boxes now. Still, I’ve made the newspapers a fortune.’
‘Your father was wrong to send you away with no support.’
Bella’s eyes burned but she felt a stab of guilt. ‘Actually, it was my fault,’ she whispered. ‘I behaved horribly.’
Zafiq curved his hands over her shoulders and she shivered because it felt so good to be touched by him.
Too good…
‘It was the afternoon before the ball.’ Anticipating rejection, Bella pulled away from him, rubbing her fingers over her face to clear the tears. ‘My father holds this charity ball every year, you know the sort of thing—glitz and glamour. Anyway, Olivia and I decided to go through our mother’s things. There were boxes of books, jewellery, ball gowns—I found a diary.’ She dug a tissue out of her pocket and blew her nose. Who would have thought he was capable of being such a good listener? ‘Being stupid, we read the diary.’
‘That’s how you discovered your mother’s affair?’
‘Yes. And immediately it all made sense. I was always proud that I looked like my mother. It was as if there was that special link between us—as if when I looked in the mirror, I was seeing a bit of her reflected there.’ Bella fiddled with a strand of her blonde hair. ‘But suddenly I discovered why my father can’t even bear to look at me. Every time he looks at me, he thinks of her betrayal.’
Zafiq inhaled sharply. ‘Bella—’
‘Well, obviously it wasn’t a great thing to find out. I wanted to keep the whole thing a secret—I didn’t want to tell anyone. Especially not Zoe—that’s my sister. I thought that would be a hideous, horrible thing to discover about yourself.’ She pushed the tissue back into her pocket. ‘Why stir up stuff that no one needs to hear?’
‘But your twin disagreed?’
‘Morally up standing Olivia—always has to do the “right thing” even when the right thing is going to create carnage. You’d get on well with her. She’s big on duty and responsibility. Goes without saying we’re non-identical. Anyway, we had a terrible row.’ She rubbed her fingers across her forehead. ‘Olivia said we should tell Zoe the truth. I pointed out that telling Zoe meant telling everyone—I mean, our mother kept it a secret, I wasn’t sure it was our business to blurt it all out. You have no idea what a mess it was. Olivia said I was like our mother—’ the breath hitched in her throat, remembering just how badly that accusation had hurt her ‘—and I…I slapped her.’
‘You hit your sister?’
‘Shocking, isn’t it?’ Bella whispered, lifting her hand to her mouth. ‘I even shocked myself with that one. I’ve wanted to call her but I don’t know if she’ll even speak to me.’
Zafiq sighed. ‘You were upset, Bella—’
‘That’s no excuse. Basically, I blew it. And the worst of it was, some paparazzi low life had wormed his way into the party and was standing outside the door. So the next day it was all over the tabloids, and that’s how Zoe found out.’ The guilt was like a heavy weight, crushing her, and her hands were shaking as she forced herself to confront the issues she’d been avoiding for weeks. ‘I didn’t want her to know at all, and in the end she found out in the worst possible way. Because of me. I’ll never forgive myself for that.’
‘It wasn’t your fault that the press had gained access to a private party—’
‘It was my fault.’ The tears scalded her throat. ‘I know what the press are like. Better than any one. They’ve followed me since I was a child. If I’d been more guarded—but I’m not. I find it impossible not to just say what I’m thinking and I gave them what they wanted. I gave them the shots and I gave them the stories. And this was the story of the decade. My father thought I’d done it on purpose for the attention. That’s why he banished me.’
‘
Did it occur to you that your father might have sent you to the Retreat to protect you?’
Bella gave a bitter laugh. ‘No. He sent me there to punish me. He knew that being on my own with my guilt would be the very worst thing. If I’d stayed at home I would have partied, got drunk—just tried to forget about it. He forced me into a position where I had no choice but to think about what I’d done. And I deserved it.’
‘You’re extremely hard on yourself. You found yourself in a situation that no one would have found easy.’
‘Olivia thought it was black and white.’
‘Life is never black and white.’
‘Especially not in the desert. It’s all red and gold.’ Trying to lighten the atmosphere, Bella wiped her cheek with the palm of her hand. ‘Do you know the funny thing? I’ve actually grown to love it here. I love the fact there are no press. I love the fact that people aren’t bugging me to attend their parties just so they get in the newspapers.’ She blushed. ‘That sounds boastful, but honestly, it’s what people do. They invite me to places just because they know the press will follow.’
‘And you never know who your real friends are.’
‘I guess you know that feeling.’ She looked down at herself, noticing the splash of mud on her cream jodhpurs. Even without a mirror she knew she must look a mess. ‘Do you realise how great it has been to know that I can muck out a horse and appear all hot and sweaty without having to worry about seeing myself on every front page tomorrow?’
‘Didn’t you like being on the front pages?’
‘I suppose I must have done for a while,’ Bella admitted, feeling her cheeks redden. ‘To start with, I liked the attention. I felt as though people loved me. And then I realised that of course they didn’t love me.’ She gave a twisted smile because it was hard being that honest with herself, let alone with him. ‘They liked watching me slip up. Bad Bella. But I’m not Bad Bella here. I’m not corrupting your brother, or your sister, or any of your staff, although I don’t blame you for thinking that—’
‘Rachid is half in love with you.’
‘Only half?’ Bella grinned through her tears. ‘I must be losing my touch. Maybe I need to wash my hair more often.’
Suddenly it was all too much for her. He was so, so un believably attractive and powerful and confident that she swayed towards him.
I’m like a feeble plant, she thought wildly, trying to wind myself around a strong stake.
Consumed by longing, she put out her hand, drawn to him by an in visible force and by feelings so intense that she was humbled. Nothing mattered but being close to him. ‘I’ve missed you so much.’
He tensed instantly and his lack of response was more humiliating than anything that had happened to her before.
Aware that she’d just made a bigger fool of herself than ever before, Bella turned her face away. Her cheeks burned with humiliation and she wished she could just slide under the straw and hide.
She withdrew her hand. ‘As I was saying,’ she croaked, ‘I’ve missed you because I really wanted to tell you how well I’ve been doing. You’d be really proud of me. I’ve been helping to train Batal for the race, and—’ Once again she almost told him she’d been exercising Batal, but then she decided he’d probably have a meltdown if she told him that so she passed over that bit. ‘He’s going to do well, I know he is.’
She hoped he’d think he’d misinterpreted her first remark and that appeared to be the case because he relaxed slightly.
‘I admit I’m surprised that Hassan can handle him.’
‘Oh, Hassan is a good rider,’ Bella said glibly, focusing on Amira. ‘It’s all going to be fine.’ She still hadn’t got her head around who was actually going to ride Batal in the race itself. ‘There’s only one more week to go. It’s going to feel weird once it’s over. No one talks about anything else.’
He didn’t want her, she thought numbly. The one man she really wanted had rejected her.
‘It is an important event in our calendar.’ Zafiq stroked Amira gently. ‘Have you spoken to your father since you’ve been here?’
‘No. I’ve been too busy.’ She didn’t confess that she was nervous of phoning any of her family in case they rejected her.
She was in disgrace, wasn’t she?
‘What happened to your craving for your laptop, your phone and your iPod?’
Bella patted her pocket. ‘iPod here. I listen to music while I’m mucking out the horses. Amira really likes Linkin Park and Muse. Loud music sends Batal into orbit so I tend to listen to Mozart when I’m with him. Sometimes Schubert.’
He gave her a curious look. ‘So Bella Balfour really is turning over a new leaf.’
‘Looks that way.’ Bella held tightly to Amira’s mane to stop her reaching out to him.
She had to win the race, she told herself fiercely. There was no one else who could ride Batal. She had to find a way.
For once in her life, she wasn’t going to let anyone down.
CHAPTER NINE
‘BELLA, you can’t ride the stallion in the race! It’s too dangerous!’
The jockeys were gathered round her in one corner of the barn, all uneasy about the plan.
‘You have a better suggestion?’ Bella was squeezing her feet into her boots and trying not to think about Zafiq. Rumour had reached her ears that he’d been on a two-day trip to Europe, ostensibly to meet some ‘suitable’ princess and Bella had never known such agony. ‘I’m the same height as Hassan. Everyone thinks Hassan has been riding Batal—they have no reason to think it’s me.’
‘They’ll notice soon enough when you ride into the winner’s enclosure.’
‘I’ve thought about that—’ Bella tucked her shirt into the waist band of her jodhpurs. ‘Batal isn’t going to stop when he finishes the race. I’m going to make sure he keeps galloping. He tries to do it all the time, so no one will guess it’s intentional. They’ll just think he’s being his usual moody self. I’ll let him bolt all the way back to the stables. Hassan, you’ll be waiting back here in the stables so that when everyone arrives, you’re standing here holding the stallion, apologetic that you couldn’t hold him back and irritated that you missed the applause and attention.’
Connor, a jockey who had travelled from Ireland to take a job in the Sheikh’s world-famous stables, rolled his eyes. ‘I don’t like it. None of us think that Kamal’s fall was an accident. Something spooked Batal. What if they come after you?’
‘They can’t do much in front of an audience, can they? Not with the Sheikh there watching.’ Would he be with his princess? Ignoring the sudden spasm of pain in her chest, Bella crammed the hat on her head. ‘You lot go ahead. I’m going to appear at the very last moment so no one will have time to get a good look at me. You’re going to tell everyone that Batal has been acting up and we don’t trust him with the other horses for too long. I’m going to appear about thirty seconds before the race starts and hit the ground running.’
‘Let’s just hope you don’t hit the ground before you reach the finish line,’ Hassan said drily, but there was a look of respect in his eyes. ‘I really hope you don’t get hurt, Bella.’
She was already hurting so badly it felt as though she’d been dragged across the desert behind a horse. The thought of Zafiq laughing and smiling with another woman made her ache….
‘Oh, for crying out loud!’ Irritated with herself, Bella glanced at her watch. ‘Just go, will you? You lot are making me nervous. How long have I got?’
‘Everyone has already gone to the starting line. You’re sure you know the course?’
‘I gallop flat out until I reach the marker, then I turn round and come back.’
‘And—’
‘And I have to cross the line first or Sheikh Zafiq loses his favourite mare,’ Bella snapped. ‘Yes, I know that.’ And the pressure was getting to her. Everything rested on her and the responsibility made her insides quake.
What if she let everyone down?
Tha
t was what she did, wasn’t it?
When it really mattered, she always messed up.
What if Batal lost because of her? What if she fell off before the finishing line?
Connor squeezed her shoulder. ‘Just ride. Don’t look left or right.’
And don’t think about Zafiq, Bella told herself, her courage faltering as she watched them all leave.
Now it was just her and the stallion—and Hassan hovering nervously in the back ground, ready to help her mount the powerful animal.
It didn’t help that Batal was in a foul mood, stamping his feet, showing the whites of his eyes, his head snaking forward to bite anyone who came near.
‘Oh, get a grip,’ Bella said wearily as she approached the snorting horse. ‘There’s no reason for you to be tense. You could win this stupid race with your hooves tied together. Just don’t let anyone give you a fright. You’re the boss, OK? Alpha horsey.’
Hassan gave her a leg up into the saddle and then retreated to a safe distance. ‘Are you ready?’
‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’ Bella felt the stallion’s muscles ripple and shimmer beneath her, as if he was coiled, ready to spring. Nerves fluttered in her belly. ‘I wish there was a seat belt. If you throw me off, we lose Amira,’ she reminded the horse and then grinned at Hassan. ‘Go and hide behind a hay bale. You’re supposed to be the one riding, remember?’
‘The whole of Al-Rafid is depending on you, Bella,’ Hassan said hoarsely, and Bella rolled her eyes.
‘No pressure, then.’ She sat tight as the stallion went up on his hind legs, sawing the air with his legs. ‘Here we go. Circus time.’ But the moment the stallion hit the ground she drove him forward and knew that she had to keep doing that. It was as if the horse knew what was about to happen and just wanted to get on with it.
She urged him along the track that led directly from the stables to the desert. Even before she arrived at the starting line she could hear the roar of the crowd.