Breaking the Sheikh's Rules

Reluctantly she explained, ‘We started to do badly when my grandfather became gravely ill—nearly thirteen years ago. We’d had a run of bad luck…disappointing foals and yearlings. The owners of the horses we were training got nervous after my grandfather died and sent them to other trainers.’

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Her mouth twisted. ‘We were suddenly unfashionable. And we were up against much more successful studs with infinitely more resources than we had. Not long after my grandfather died my mother passed away, and that was when my father…’

She didn’t have to finish. She couldn’t finish. In truth, she was a little stunned that she’d just shared what she had. But some instinct had warned her that the Sheikh would dig until he got to the very bottom of their modus operandi and how they’d got to this dismal state of affairs. And if he went through the paperwork it wouldn’t take him long to trace events back to her grandfather’s death, and then her mother’s.

He was frowning at her now. ‘What happened then? Who did your father bring in to keep this place running?’

Iseult shook her head, feeling shame mount for the first time in her life at hearing their history articulated so baldly. At knowing that she had failed. ‘No one. We all pulled together. I…’ She faltered, and then hitched her chin again. ‘I helped until my father could get back on his feet again…and since I left school I’ve been working here full-time.’

There was no expression on the Sheikh’s face, but Iseult could see a muscle pulse in his jaw. ‘Your brothers and sisters?’

‘I’ve two brothers and one sister. They’re away in college in Dublin. They helped out when they could.’

Nadim reeled inwardly. At the mere age of twelve she had taken on that burden, along with school? If what Iseult was saying was true, then she’d more or less single-handedly helped keep the stables afloat. He could tell that she was embarrassed, and he could also tell that she was used to protecting her father. He felt a surge of anger towards that man now, and couldn’t fathom how his perception of this woman before him had changed so much in such a short space of time.

‘And Devil’s Kiss? You trained him?’

Iseult flushed. ‘With my father. We both did.’

Nadim felt on a more even keel here. ‘How do you know that you haven’t overtrained him? That he isn’t peaking too early?’

Sheer pride straightened Iseult’s back. ‘Do you think he’s peaking too early? Couldn’t you tell just from riding him today that if anything his winning those races was just a sign of things to come?’

Her confidence astounded him, but he had to admit grudgingly to himself that he had formed that opinion. ‘You’re very confident.’

‘Because I know horses, and I know Devil’s Kiss. He’s not yet shown half his potential. His lineage is pure thoroughbred; his father was Hawk Eye and his dam was Sheila’s Wish, whose line goes back directly to Queen of Tara.’

Nadim knew Devil’s Kiss’s stellar lineage back to front, and Iseult was right. ‘If what you say is true…you do know what you’re saying?’

Iseult nodded. ‘He could become something very special.’

‘More than special—a world champion.’

Iseult nodded again, surprised to recognise that he was hearing her and taking her opinion on board. She’d chafed to think that he didn’t rate her training skills. While she knew she had a long way to go, she’d always had the confidence instilled within her from her grandfather to trust her instincts. And she knew she was right when it came to Devil’s Kiss.

The Sheikh stood from the desk then, and in a skittish move Iseult took a step back—even though feet separated them. She caught his dark look and cursed herself for reacting, hating that he might suspect she was so aware of him. She watched as he walked around the desk and sat down in the high-backed leather chair that had been her grandfather’s.

He gestured her forward to take the seat on the other side. Too hot inside, and bemused, Iseult couldn’t even feel insulted that he was clearly taking control. When she’d sat down, he flicked a hand over a sheaf of papers on the desk.

‘The papers are signed, Iseult. I now own everything.’ His dark look speared her. ‘I now own you.’

Iseult’s throat dried up. She was reacting to too many things at once. The fact that he’d just called her by her name, with that deep voice and sexy accent making it sound deliciously foreign and sensual, and also—despite her assertion earlier that she wasn’t part of the inventory—the fact she couldn’t refute his claim that he owned her. She was as much a part of this place as the earth of the land and the stones of the house. She’d even been born in her parents’ bedroom upstairs.

‘So…?’ she managed to croak out. ‘What…?’

Nadim looked at the young woman opposite him. He didn’t like to acknowledge how hearing how old she was had seemed to make his awareness of her increase thousandfold within him—as if he’d been denying it to himself when he’d believed her to be out of bounds.

And she still was. Yet, despite that assertion, he knew what he wanted with stunning clarity—and what he wanted was to keep this woman close, for such myriad reasons that he wasn’t even going to investigate them now. He made a split-second decision.

‘A chain of events has been set into motion. This will become my European base. It will need to be built up. As you may already know, I’ve acquired the land adjoining the stud down the road…’

Iseult nodded in acknowledgement. It had been the first sign of how determined he was to buy them out. He’d been so confident of acquiring their stud that he’d invested in the land around them before they’d even announced the sale. Her anger at his arrogance had surged from that point. But, in fairness, she could see now that it would have been directed at anyone who had stepped in to buy them out…

‘I’ve already hired a new manager to come in and take over both facilities—the training grounds and the stud—’

Iseult gasped, pulled out of her straying thoughts. ‘I thought you were going to allow my father to stay on.’ Anger blurred her vision. For a second there she’d been distracted by this man’s sheer charisma, when all along— ‘If you think that you can come in here like this and just—’