Bella and the Merciless Sheikh (15 page)

‘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.

‘B
ELLA
, 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?

That 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.

‘Is this going to freak you out?'

But for once Batal was behaving himself, his ears flicking back wards and forwards like radar, listening to the cheers.

‘Attention seeker.' Bella adjusted the scarf across her face, hoping that it didn't fall. If it did, she was sunk.

Riding up towards the starting line, Connor took the bridle. ‘The Sheikh was starting to think you weren't coming. I told him we didn't want Batal to be in a public place any longer than necessary. Oh, no—' His face paled. ‘Bella, he's coming across to wish you luck! If he gets too close he's going to know you're not Hassan.'

‘Stop him,' Bella said urgently, turning Batal towards the starting line. ‘Tell him I've got my hands full, tell him I don't want to tempt fate—tell him
anything
, but don't let him get close to me. How long have I got before the start?'

‘One minute.'

It felt like the longest minute of her life.

As Connor hurried away to head off Zafiq, Bella urged the stallion towards the rope, her hands shaking on the reins.

Batal threw up his head and squealed, as if to say,
Who put this idiot on my back?
and Bella gave a weak laugh because she was starting to agree.

And then she caught the vicious glare from one of the jockeys and her mouth dried.
Trouble
, she thought, but she didn't dare speak, or do anything to reveal herself as a woman, so she had no choice but to keep her mouth closed.

Batal shivered with anticipation, and Bella stared straight ahead of her, determined to do this right. The horse could win; she had no doubt about that. Whether she'd still be on his back as he crossed the finishing line was another matter.

The roar of the crowd intensified and then the flag dropped and the horses sprang forward.

Batal flew into the lead and Bella allowed him to take the
front position, knowing that she couldn't risk being bunched by the others in case one of them tried to unseat her.

As the sand flew into her face, all she was aware of was the pounding of hooves and the pounding of her heart. She could hear horses behind her, but Batal's long, effortless stride immediately lengthened the distance between her and the others.

She smiled, feeling a rush of confidence.

‘You are fantastic,' she yelled as the wind and the sand flew past her face and the marker appeared in the distance. ‘If you win I'll never say anything bad to you again. I'll even let you kick me and bite me. Go on, Batal,
go on
!'

As she turned Batal around the flag and showed him the finishing line, she felt something yank her leg hard.

Taken by surprise Bella clutched at the stallion's mane, but at full gallop there was no chance of recovery and the next moment she was on the ground, the sudden fall jarring her shoulder, her foot still jammed in the stirrup as her body was dragged bumping and twisting behind the horse.

Shards of agony shot through her body and Bella closed her eyes and prepared to die.

And then suddenly she stopped moving.

Squealing with impatience, Batal was looking down at her as if to say,
All you had to do was sit there and you even messed that up.

Bella registered that she was still alive but the relief was only fleeting because the rest of the horses were thundering down on her.

Throwing his head in the air Batal reared up and Bella squeezed her eyes shut and prepared to die for a second time. It was obvious that the stallion was going to trample her.

When nothing happened, Bella opened one eye and found herself looking up at the belly of the horse.

The stallion had straddled her, his powerful legs forming a protective cage as the other runners raced past.

Choked with emotion and half crying with pain and gratitude, Bella struggled to sit up, but her shoulder was so agonising that it knocked the breath from her body. As the other horses galloped past her she registered the fact that someone had pulled her off deliberately because they didn't want Batal to win. The same person who had landed Kamal in hospital? The same person who had tried to kidnap Amira?

Raw anger acted like an anaesthetic and Bella tried again to sit upright, this time using Batal's legs as a frame.

The last of the horses had passed her and she knew there was no hope of catching the winner, but she was determined to finish the race.

Furious
with whoever it was who had dragged her off the horse, Bella tried to mount but Batal was too big for her and she couldn't use her hand to pull herself up because her shoulder was hurting too badly.

‘I'm sorry,' she sobbed. ‘I'm really sorry, Batal.' Tears blurred her vision and then, just when she'd given up, Batal gave a snort and dropped down onto his knees next to her.

For a brief second Bella just gaped at him, and then she slid gingerly onto his back and Batal immediately sprang upwards and forwards, not giving her time to retrieve her stirrups.

Her shoulder was killing her, her hands were shaking and bleeding from her fall and she hung onto a clump of his mane and urged him on, knowing it was hopeless, knowing they couldn't possibly win now.

But Batal had other ideas.

Outraged at having been passed by the other horses, he surged forward with such an astonishing burst of speed that it was as if she'd hit a button saying Turbo Boost.

They passed horse after horse and suddenly Bella felt a tiny flicker of hope come to life inside her.

‘Now I know why they call it horse power. Come on, Batal,' she croaked, wincing as her shoulder jarred again, ‘faster, faster, you can do this—'

Determined to be in the lead, Batal dug deep inside himself and found the extra speed he needed. Nostrils flaring, the whites of his eyes showing, he thundered over the winning line half a length ahead of the horse and rider who had tried to put them out of the race.

Remembering that she was supposed to gallop him straight back to the stables, Bella tried to turn him, but Batal had ideas of his own.

Ignoring Bella's feeble attempts to control him with one hand, he slowed his pace and cantered straight across to the stand where the Sheikh and all the VIPs were standing watching the race.

‘No…please, no—' Dizzy from her fall and feeling decidedly weird, Bella tugged weakly at the reins, trying to turn him, but the stallion gave an angry snort and came to a halt in front of Zafiq. He stood proudly, neck arched, tail held high as if to say,
That's how it's done
.

A smile spreading across his handsome face, Zafiq stepped down from the stand and walked over to them just as Bella felt darkness close in on her vision.

She heard voices far away—
shocked
voices—followed by an almost eerie silence.

Knowing that she was going to faint, Bella clutched at Batal's mane but it was too late.

‘I love you,' she muttered as she slid off the horse and plunged into darkness.

 

Zafiq paced the floor of the modern, well-equipped hospital room, his eyes never moving from the girl on the bed. ‘Fetch another doctor,' he ordered. ‘I want another opinion.'

Kalif hesitated. ‘You have already had five opinions, Your Highness. All the doctors are in agreement. Miss Balfour banged her head in the fall, but the scan has shown no trauma. She has a mild concussion and is now sleeping. Her shoulder was dislocated and she has many bruises but—'

‘She fell from Batal at a gallop…' And he'd never forget that moment. Even when he'd thought it was Hassan who was on the floor, his heart had been in his mouth. To discover that it had been Bella—

‘It is indeed a miracle that she survived,' Kalif agreed. ‘Had Batal not stopped when he did and had he not protected her with his body… It was an astonishing spectacle. People are talking of nothing else. Not only that an animal of his reputation stopped for the girl, but that he then lowered himself so that she could mount. Quite remarkable.'

‘I can't believe she rode the stallion.' Zafiq ran his hand over the back of his neck, so tense that he felt as though he were going to explode. ‘I can't believe I didn't spot that it was her.'

‘She fooled all of us, Your Highness, but perhaps it was for the best. Had you known it was her, you would have stopped her. And then Batal would not have won the race,' Kalif said logically. ‘After Kamal was injured, there was no one else to ride him. She is a very brave young woman.'

Staring at her still form, Zafiq felt suddenly cold as he considered what might have happened. ‘She is reckless,' he said hoarsely. ‘She has always been reckless.'

A noise behind him made him turn and he saw a crowd of anxious faces in the doorway. His brother Rachid was in front and behind him his sister Sahra, Yousif, his Master of Horse, and at least fifteen of the palace staff.

‘Is there any news?' Rachid spoke for all of them and Zafiq made an exasperated sound as he scanned the number of heads in the corridor.