by Various
Chapter Six
BELLA urged Amira faster, screwing up her eyes as the horse’s hooves pounded the sand into a golden mist. Ahead of her, the Sheikh’s powerful stallion thundered across the desert and she gave a shout of laughter because each time she did this it gave her the most incredible high.
It felt fantastic to be back on a horse, and riding in the desert was the most exciting, exhilarating experience to be had.
She’d ridden out with Zafiq every morning and evening for the past three days and she couldn’t remember ever being so happy. When they weren’t riding they were making love or cooling off in the still waters of the beautiful pool or nibbling dates and talking.
She’d never felt so free.
Leaning forward against the mare’s neck Bella shifted her weight and drove the animal forward, closing the distance. Over the past few days she’d watched and learned. No deep sand here, she thought, anxious not to harm the horse in any way, remembering everything Zafiq had taught her. The horse was fast, so fast that the scrap of silk protecting her face unravelled itself as she drew alongside the Sheikh’s stallion. Thrilled that she’d matched his speed for the first time, Bella challenged him with a smile and saw his mouth tighten in disapproval and exasperation.
You’re going to pay the price for that one, Bella, she thought to herself and then his eyes gleamed and he pulled away from her, squeezing every last drop of energy from the horse with his skilled riding. The black stallion seemed to float across the sand, his tail high, his neck arched—strength and power visible in every muscle of his sleek body. Watching the power unleashed, Bella thought to herself that horse and rider were well matched.
Finally Zafiq urged the powerful beast round the base of a sand dune and Bella followed, coughing as sand flew into her mouth.
She was still choking when a bottle of water was pushed into her hand.
‘Drink.’
Bella drank, the water soothing her dusty throat. ‘My scarf slipped. I’ve been swallowing sand for the past five minutes.’ Despite the lateness of the day, the sun was still a fiery ball in the cloudless sky, the intense heat shimmering over the surface of the sand.
But she was protected now—hat, cream and the knowledge that the cool waters of the oasis waited for them back at the desert camp.
Glancing at him, she saw that his eyes were fixed on the horizon. ‘You love it here, don’t you?’
For a moment he didn’t answer, and then he looked at her. ‘It is the one place I can be myself without answering to anyone.’
‘I thought you were the one giving the orders. Can’t you just tell them to leave you alone?’ The moment the words left her mouth she was embarrassed by her flippant response. Squirming on the back of her horse, Bella shrugged apologetically. ‘I mean, you are the Sheikh. You make the rules.’
‘My responsibility is to my people, and also to my family.’
Family. Responsibility.
Bella wiped her brow with the back of her hand, uncomfortably aware that the feelings inside her had nothing to do with the heat. ‘But you have to think of yourself too.’
‘That is why I allow myself five days in the desert.’
‘Five days.’ Bella took another sip of water, ignoring the lurch in her stomach. One more day to go. ‘Wow. As holiday entitlements go, that’s pretty stingy. You ought to have a word with human resources and renegotiate your working conditions. And why are you responsible for your family? Can’t they look after themselves?’
‘Our parents died when they were young. My brothers and sisters rely on me.’
‘Everyone seems to rely on you. So if you like family so much, why haven’t you married?’ Bella handed the water back to him, distracted by the shadow of stubble that darkened his strong jaw. ‘Don’t you want kids of your own?’
‘My wishes are secondary to the needs of my people. If it were my personal choice, I would never marry.’ Zafiq sat relaxed on the stallion, his expression unreadable as he studied the wind patterns in the sand. ‘But at some point I will take a wife, yes. And we will have children. It is necessary.’
‘Wow. With that much enthusiasm behind it, how can it fail?’ Bella felt a stab of emotion she didn’t recognise. ‘So when the pressure gets too much, you’re going to pick a suitable wife. Someone with the right breeding.’ Someone completely unlike her—someone who didn’t have bad Balfour blood and an uncertain temperament.
‘Of course.’
‘What if you don’t love her?’
He frowned. ‘Love isn’t a requirement. I will make sure that I pick someone I can respect and admire. That will be enough.’
‘And she’ll marry you for the status. Not because she loves you but because of who you are.’ Her thoughts shifting to the discovery she’d made the night of the Balfour Ball, Bella couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her tone. ‘And what about your kids? How do you think your children will feel about that when they grow up? Do you think it’s good for a child to know that her father never loved her mother? And what about your wife? Aren’t you afraid she might fall in love and have an affair?’
‘My wife would never have any reason to stray.’ He spoke with utter conviction, his hand steady on the bridle as he watched her curiously. ‘Are you going to tell me why this subject upsets you so deeply?’
‘It doesn’t upset me,’ Bella snapped, and Amira gave a nervous whinny and sidestepped into Zafiq’s stallion. With a show of superb horsemanship and controlled strength, Zafiq calmed both animals and Bella stroked a shaking hand down her horse’s mane, horrified by her loss of control. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘None of my business. Let’s ride, shall we?’
‘You seem to have strong views on marriage.’ His tone was a shade cooler. ‘Have you been married?’
‘No! That’s one mistake I haven’t made.’ Probably the only one, Bella thought bleakly, turning the mare and urging her back towards their desert camp. Why, oh, why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut? The last thing she wanted to do was think about the mess she’d left behind at home.
Ironic, she thought to herself, that four days ago she couldn’t wait to get back to civilisation. Now, she was dreading it.
Zafiq was by her side, holding the stallion firmly, refusing to allow him to surge ahead. ‘You’ve never been married, and yet you have had men.’
‘No, I was a virgin until I met you,’ she said flippantly, wondering why she should care that his face darkened with masculine disapproval.
Since when had she needed anyone’s approval?
She’d grown up disappointing everyone.
She should be used to it by now.
Horrified by the sudden weakness that had her tempted to confess her whole messy life history, Bella urged Amira forward.
What was the matter with her? Why would she want to spill her guts to this guy who wouldn’t understand anything about her life? And anyway, she didn’t want to think about being Bella Balfour. She didn’t want the name Balfour intruding on their few days of desert bliss.
Bella was so shocked by that thought, she pulled the mare to a halt again.
Bliss?
She looked around her as if she were seeing the desert for the first time. She studied the strange swirling patterns on the red-gold sand, the steep rise of the dunes and the sheer magnitude of the scenery around her. She thought of the sunsets she’d seen—of the blazing red ball of fire sinking down below the horizon and the incredible stars, shining in the night sky like diamonds against dark velvet in a jeweller’s window.
‘Now what’s wrong?’ Zafiq was by her side, his expression concerned. ‘Are you hurt? Is the sand bothering you?’
Yes, the sand was bothering her, but not in the way she’d expected.
‘I-it’s beautiful,’ Bella said huskily. ‘We could be the only two people on earth.’
‘A few days ago that would have horrified you, along with the absence of conditioner and a mirror.’
‘I know. Worrying, isn’t it?’ Bella
gave a humourless laugh and swiped a strand of hair out of her eyes. ‘Now I know I need a therapist.’
‘Time for reflection in the desert is as good as a therapist. Are you going to tell me what’s troubling you?’
She didn’t dare admit it was the thought of going back to civilisation. ‘Do you ever wish life could just stay this simple,’ she blurted out and saw his eyes narrow.
‘I don’t allow myself to think like that because I know it’s not an option.’
‘Don’t you ever think about yourself?’
‘Yes.’ His gaze held hers. ‘This week, I have pleased no one but myself.’
‘You’ve pleased me,’ she whispered, and Zafiq hesitated and then reached across and took her hand.
‘Tell me what is wrong.’
It was the first time he’d touched her in a way that wasn’t sexual and the moment was all the more poignant because she knew the only reason he was offering her comfort was because he didn’t know her. Not really. Once he discovered she was Bella Balfour—once he heard all the scandal and gossip—he’d walk away without looking back.
She removed her hand from his. ‘What could possibly be troubling me?’
‘You have told me very little of your real life.’
Because it was an empty, useless life. A life that mattered to no one…
‘I’m here to get away from my real life, like you.’ Bella stroked the mare gently and the horse snorted and stamped at the sand, sensing her rider’s tension.
‘You said your father sent you here—’
‘Wasn’t that kind of him?’ She treated him to the dazzling smile she always used when she wanted men to lose the thread of a conversation, but he shot her a warning glance.
‘Unless you wish to end up flat on your back in the sand, do not play your tricks on me.’
‘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 bloodline.’
‘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 horseback 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 showjumping.’
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 racetrack?’
‘We have a famous racetrack 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.’
