The B4 Leg

by Various

  Driven by concern for Bella, he vaulted onto the back of his stallion. ‘I will ride after her.’

  ‘I will come with you,’ Rachid said immediately, but Zafiq shook his head.

  ‘No.’

  Yousif and Rachid looked at each other. ‘At least take your guards. Do you want us to call the Retreat and say you are on your way?’

  ‘No guards. And I don’t want you to contact the Retreat.’ Zafiq knew she wouldn’t be there. At the thought of her sitting cross-legged, drinking herbal tea, he almost laughed. But his desire to laugh faded as he thought about how much danger she was in.

  She thought she knew the desert…

  And he knew that an assumption of knowledge could be more dangerous than an admission of ignorance. It was impossible not to think about what had happened last time Bella had ridden into the desert alone.

  Nursing a clear memory of her lying in the sand, dangerously dehydrated, Zafiq urged Batal forwards and prayed that he wouldn’t be too late.

  Bella was lying on her back in the pool when she heard the thunder of hooves and saw the growing cloud of sand. ‘Our peace is over, Amira.’

  But her heart sank because she knew who was coming.

  Would he arrest her for stealing his horse a second time?

  Amira threw up her head and whinnied, her ears flicking forwards and her nostrils flaring.

  Deciding that she didn’t have time to grab her clothes, Bella stood so that just her head appeared above the water as Zafiq rode into the camp like a warrior going into battle.

  Watching him, Bella wondered whether the pain would fade once she was thousands of miles away from him. ‘What happened to the princess,’ she called lazily, hiding her agony behind indifference, ‘not pretty enough? Or did she answer you back?’ She skimmed her hands over the water and watched as the ripples spread across the surface.

  ‘Even after weeks in my country you have developed no respect for the harshness of the desert.’ His voice a furious growl, Zafiq sprang from the horse with an athletic grace that Bella found it impossible not to admire.

  ‘Calm down. You’re sheikhing yourself up over nothing.’

  He cast her a warning glance and walked across to Amira. ‘Has the mare had water?’

  ‘No, I’m watching her slowly die of thirst.’ Bella wondered how long it would take her to drive him away in a temper. Not long, she hoped, because every word, every look, was killing her. ‘Of course she’s had water. You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?’

  His eyes were on hers. ‘No,’ he said slowly, his accent thickening the words. ‘Not stupid. I think you are a very bright, very misunderstood woman.’

  Taken aback, Bella stared at him. ‘Oh, well…in that case, I’m happy to tell you that I’ve fed her, given her water, kept her in the shade and kept a watch for snakes and scorpions like you taught me. I even slept next to her with a dagger last night, just in case. Did I miss anything?’

  Zafiq’s gaze scanned the horse. ‘She looks well.’

  ‘Good. What are you doing here anyway?’

  ‘I’ve come to tell you that I’m getting married.’

  Bella felt as though he’d punched her. ‘You came all the way out here to deliver that news in person?’ She wanted to howl with pain. ‘That was thoughtful of you.’

  ‘You need to know.’

  Typical man, Bella thought miserably. Practical to the last. ‘OK, well, now I know, so you can go away again and leave me in peace.’

  ‘You are coming back with me.’

  ‘No!’ Bella bit her lip, too distressed to conjure up a flippant remark. ‘Please, Zafiq. I love it here so much. Let me have one more day. I promise I won’t let any harm come to Amira. I carried her food, I have loads of water—I thought it through, honestly.’ She was ready to beg, but his hard, handsome face showed no sign of softening.

  ‘I need you back in Al-Rafid.’

  ‘That’s completely unfair!’ She didn’t bother with formality. ‘What is it you want from me? A wedding present? You want me to buy you a bundle of towels and a toaster?’ Then she realised how ungracious she was being and blinked away the tears rapidly, cross with herself. ‘I wish you well,’ she said huskily. ‘I really, really hope you’ll be very happy. I mean that. I want this marriage to work for you and I’m sure it will because you have a way of making things turn out the way you want them to. I just can’t be there to see it happen. And you can’t expect that of me.’

  ‘I do expect it. And you will be there.’

  Bella glared at him, wondering if he had any clue how she felt about him. ‘Are you dense or something?’

  His head flicked back and shock flared in his dark eyes. ‘Are you calling me dense?’

  ‘Well, you’re either dense or monumentally insensitive and neither attribute is exactly something to boast about,’ Bella snapped, pushing aside a strand of weed that wound itself round her wrist. ‘If you can’t think about my feelings, at least think about your wife. How would she feel?’

  ‘I hope she will feel proud to be standing by my side.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure she will. And I certainly don’t want to spoil her day by being in the audience. Ex-girlfriends anonymous. Oh, go away, Zafiq! Go and torture someone else.’ Feeling the lump grow in her throat, Bella turned away and concentrated on the date palms that shaded the pool, furious with herself for not being strong enough to go to his wedding. ‘I can’t do it. I can’t be there when you marry.’

  ‘Then we have a problem, habibiti,’ he said softly, ‘because I cannot marry without you there.’

  Tears blurred her vision. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you are the woman I will be marrying.’

  Bella heard the words from far away. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out, and Amira threw up her head and gave a whinny, sensing the change in the atmosphere.

  ‘Get out of the water, Bella!’ His voice roughened by exasperation, Zafiq paced to the edge of the pool. ‘Say something!’

  He looked sensational with the sun turning his hair blue-black, the intensity of his gaze demanding that she look at him.

  Shock turned to happiness and then faded away into the most agonising misery.

  How could she?

  ‘That’s a heck of a sacrifice to make for sex, Zafiq.’

  ‘You think I’m asking you to marry me so that I can have sex?’

  ‘You haven’t actually asked me to marry you—’ Bella felt something brush against her ankle and gave a squeal. ‘Zafiq, there’s something in this pool. Ugh!’

  He lifted an eyebrow. ‘I thought desert creatures didn’t bother you?’

  ‘I like lizards but this was slimy.’ She was hopping around on one leg, whimpering, and Zafiq gave a masculine smile, stripped off his clothes and joined her in the water in a smooth dive.

  He surfaced right next to her and lifted her into his arms. ‘It is a piece of weed.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Around your ankle.’ Casually he flipped it away. ‘Not a creature. Not slimy.’

  ‘It felt slimy. Put me down, Zafiq—I don’t have any clothes on.’

  ‘That’s the way I prefer you,’ he drawled softly, his eyes on her mouth as he lowered her into the water and drew her against him.

  Bella gasped as she felt the heat of his body against hers. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I’m proposing.’ He murmured the words against her mouth. ‘Could you say yes quickly so that we can cut straight to the exciting part?’

  Mesmerised by the wicked look in his eyes and by the explosive reaction of her own body, Bella moaned. ‘No…I can’t—No.’ She had to be strong about this. She had to remember what she’d learned—how she was determined to live her life. ‘No, Zafiq.’

  Zafiq sighed. ‘Now what?’

  ‘I said no.’

  ‘I heard you—what I want to know is why. I know you love me, so don’t try and deny it.’

  ‘Yes, I do love you. But you don’t love m
e. And that isn’t good enough for me. I don’t want to marry for money or status. I don’t even want to marry because I’m in love. I’ll only marry when it’s an equal partnership. When love is given and returned. When we both want the same things. When we’re a team because we have an emotional bond, not a paper one.’

  ‘Bella—’

  ‘Whatever anyone says, I’m not like my mother,’ Bella whispered. ‘I won’t marry without love. You taught me how it’s possible to feel, and I don’t want to feel less than that. And I want a man who feels the same way about me, otherwise what chance will we have? I won’t settle for less than a love match because I’ve seen what happens when you do.’

  His dark eyes were locked on hers. ‘What makes you think I don’t love you?’

  ‘Er, possibly the fact that you’ve never said those words to me?’

  ‘You have never said those words to me either.’

  ‘I have,’ she said hotly. ‘When I fell off Batal into your arms, I said, “I love you.” And you never mentioned it. You never reacted.’

  Zafiq let out a long, exasperated breath. ‘I assumed you were talking to the horse.’

  ‘You thought I was declaring my love for your horse?’

  ‘You are always saying things like that to the horses. The staff tell me you chat to them all the time, telling them how much you love them and how good they are.’

  Bella blushed. ‘Well, that’s true, I guess.’

  ‘So you admit that I wasn’t likely to realise you were declaring your love for me when you landed in my arms.’

  Bella pressed her hand against his chest, her fingers feeling the contours of smooth, hard muscle. ‘Are you saying—’ She cleared her throat, almost afraid to say the words in case she jinxed it. ‘Do you mean that—’

  ‘I love you,’ he said quietly ‘That’s what I’m saying, and yes, I mean it.’

  Suddenly she felt light-headed. ‘You think love is a weakness.’

  ‘I think the relationship my father had with my stepmother was unbalanced, and yes, that made him weak.’ Zafiq frowned. ‘I was appalled that he seemed unable to resist her. Watching him succumb to the seductive temptations of that woman was the hardest thing I had ever done. I vowed that I would not make the same mistake.’

  ‘And that’s why you were so angry with me when I flirted with you?’

  ‘I was determined not to fall into the same trap.’

  ‘I thought you were arrogant and high-handed.’

  He gave a faint smile. ‘And now?’

  ‘I still think you’re arrogant and high-handed,’ Bella whispered, ‘but you’re pretty cute too, and if you get too bossy I’ll just argue back.’

  ‘I’m sure you will.’ He groaned, sliding his arms around her hair and hauling her against him. ‘I love you, Bella Balfour.’

  Bella winced and a stab of insecurity sliced through her happiness. ‘That’s the difficult part, isn’t it? My sister Olivia would be better for you. She’s practical and sensible. I called her, by the way…’

  ‘Good. And?’

  ‘She’d been worrying too. She felt guilty about the things she said. We had a good conversation. And I spoke to Zoe in New York—she’d been trying to get hold of me.’

  ‘So all your worries are finished.’

  ‘Not really. How are your people ever going to accept you marrying Bad Bella?’

  ‘My people think you are Brave Bella.’ He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her gently on the mouth, his voice vibrating with sincerity. ‘To them you are Bold Bella and Beautiful Bella. You are a role model and an inspiration to all who meet you. There is not a bad bone in your body.’

  The lump back in her throat, Bella stood still. ‘I say the wrong thing—I lose it quite often.’

  ‘I love the fact that you are passionate and honest about your feelings.’

  ‘I’ve never been anyone’s role model before,’ she croaked, and he gave a slow smile.

  ‘It’s always good to have new experiences in life. All the young girls of A1-Rafid will be watching you, copying you.’

  ‘They’ll read awful stuff about me,’ Bella mumbled, and he gave a sigh and his mouth tightened.

  ‘We do not censor the press, but nor do we allow the degree of intrusive reporting you have in your country. There will be no journalists climbing the walls of my palace or hiding in the stables.’

  ‘But the past—’

  ‘The past is called the past for a reason. My people care only about what they know and what they see, not about what has been rumoured. They saw a girl willing to put her life on the line for something that mattered to our country.’

  ‘Those stories about me—most of them weren’t true,’ Bella blurted out, desperate to defend herself for the first time in her life. ‘Half the stuff they wrote about me—more than half actually—was all lies. I never had those affairs, but they were determined to write what they wanted so I just let them get on with it. Every time I said hello to a man, it was supposedly a new affair!’ Her cheeks burned. ‘If I told you there was only ever one man, and that was ages ago, what would you say?’

  Zafiq stroked her face with gentle fingers. ‘I’d say that he was clearly a fool,’ he drawled softly, ‘for letting a woman as special as you slip through his fingers.’

  ‘He was the reason I was dropped from the eventing team as a teenager,’ Bella confessed. ‘I realised that he was just using me and I dumped him, so he spread horrible rumours and the selectors decided I wasn’t a good example.’

  ‘I believe you.’

  Bella’s eyes filled. ‘Really? You have no idea how that feels. And being here—’ she turned her head, looking at the red-gold sand rising majestically around them ‘—I feel as if I’m home.’

  ‘You are home.’

  ‘I found my way through the desert,’ she mumbled. ‘You’re right that it doesn’t all look the same. It isn’t just sand. I feel as though this is where I’m meant to be. I want to keep coming here every year. I want to look at the stars and ride through the dunes. I want to make a difference to the people of Al-Rafid—they treat me as if I belong. I feel as though this is the most special place on earth. Just like you do.’

  ‘For me, the most special place on earth is where you are, habibiti,’ Zafiq said quietly, pulling her into his arms. ‘And this is undoubtedly where you are supposed to be. With my people, with my horses, but most of all, with me.’

  Her eyes glistening, Bella lifted her face to his, bathing in the truly amazing feeling of being loved for who she was. ‘Dignity,’ she said, sliding her arms round his neck. ‘That’s my Balfour rule and I’m going to live up to it, I promise.’

  ‘Dignity has its place, just as long as you don’t let it change who you are.’ Zafiq lowered his head and Bella smiled.

  ‘I’m yours,’ she whispered, and closed her eyes as he kissed her. ‘Yours, for ever.’

  Olivia’s Awakening

  Margaret Way

  Margaret Way, a definite Leo, was born and raised in the sub-tropical River City of Brisbane, capital of the Sunshine State of Queensland. A Conservatorium-trained pianist, teacher, accompanist and vocal coach, her musical career came to an unexpected end when she took up writing, initially as a fun thing to do. She currently lives in a harbourside apartment at beautiful Raby Bay, a thirty-minute drive from the State capital, where she loves dining alfresco on her plant-filled balcony that overlooks a translucent green marina filled with all manner of pleasure craft, from motor cruisers costing millions of dollars, big graceful yachts with carved masts standing tall against the cloudless blue sky to little bay runabouts.

  Prologue

  No one and nothing is in a mad rush, so she finds the laid back village atmosphere very conducive to her writing. With well over a hundred books to her credit, she still believes her best is yet to come.

  I’M UP for the challenge. Of course I am! Nothing like a challenge to bring out the best in her. At the same time she was experiencing a
definite sense of panic—the fear of finding herself in a strange land where she could conceivably be a lot unhappier than she already was?

  You’re not a Balfour for nothing, girl!

  It was natural to her to talk to herself—a practice that had started very early in life. Maybe around seven, when she had found it hard to get attention. Still, she had grown up courageous—not too self-congratulatory a word, she fancied—and with a capacity for adjustment. Only these days her idea of herself had been badly shaken, something she didn’t confide in everyone. Or she stopped herself in the nick of time.

  She had always met her obligations, stood resolutely by her code of conduct which she firmly believed to be high, both in theory and in practise. Only problem now, she had lost her guiding star—her faith in herself—the ability she had always prided herself on to keep calm and in control. It was an ability she had learned the hard way, as surrogate mother to her siblings. Sadly that cherished ability had deserted her, bringing on her current sense of devastation. She who had always been such a stickler for doing the right thing had totally lost it. And boy did that hurt!

  “Olivia, dear God!” Her father, the British billionaire, Oscar Balfour, using his steely blue eyes as a weapon, had reeled away from her in shock. “How could you? I just can’t believe how you of all people have let me down.”

  Naturally a degree of resentment had erupted. Such criticism was hard to take after years of going all-out to please him.

  Only the debacle wasn’t just a bad dream. It had really occurred at the Balfour Charity Ball, instigated by her illustrious family a century before.

  “The Balfour Ball has become an absolute must for anyone who is anyone in society.” This from Greataunt Edwina Balfour, the perfect upper-class snob. “On a par with an invitation to the palace.”

  Olivia could have responded she would throw over the Balfour Charity Ball any day for an invite to the palace, but had the great good sense not to. Nevertheless, the ball—the 100th no less—wasn’t the occasion where one would have thought anyone in their right mind would get into a catfight. But that was exactly what she and her twin sister Bella had done that fateful night.