He must be devastated.
She tried not to think about the fact that two weeks had passed and he hadn’t even come down to the stables to see how she was getting on. He’d visited sporadically, but always when she was off exercising one of the horses. And she was reduced to straining her ears to catch snippets of conversation that involved the Sheikh. And she heard nothing but praise. After two weeks of listening to gossip, it was obvious to her that Zafiq was universally adored.
It was also obvious that he was making sure that he didn’t bump into her.
It was as if their relationship had never happened.
A mirage, Bella thought miserably. A fantasy conjured up out of the burning sands and desert heat.
She wondered if Zafiq’s brother realised he probably wasn’t supposed to be talking to her.
A terrible commotion came from the stallion’s stall and Bella stopped thinking about Zafiq and hurried to the door with Prince Rachid right behind her.
‘Batal is in a bad temper. He has only half killed one rider today and he wants another victim.’ He gave a humourless laugh. ‘He reminds me of my brother. He has also been in a volatile mood since his return from the desert.’
‘You probably shouldn’t be telling me that,’ Bella muttered, watching with a frown on her face as Batal kicked his box hard and squealed with fury. ‘I’d better go and see if I can calm him down. What’s the matter with him?’
‘He needs to be ridden properly,’ Yousif said wearily, hurrying across to the stallion who greeted him by flattening his ears to his head and showing the whites of his eyes. ‘But His Highness is busy with state business, Kamal is in hospital and the horse will allow no one else on his back.’
Bella bit her lip. ‘I’ll ride him.’ She put down the body brush she’d been using to groom Amira and wiped her shiny forehead with the hem of her T-shirt. Seeing Rachid’s eyes widen she blushed hotly. ‘Sorry. Look, you have belly dancers here, don’t you? What’s the difference?’ Hoping her thoughtless action wasn’t going to get her sacked, Bella hurried across to Yousif. After seeing the horrified reaction when she’d appeared in a pair of miniscule shorts on her first day, she’d been so careful to wear modest T-shirts and long trousers, reminding herself that it was better to boil to death in the desert heat than be sent back to England in disgrace. ‘Let me take Batal onto the race track.’
‘That is out of the question. It is too much of a risk.’
‘For whom? Me or the stallion?’
‘A girl of your little strength would be unable to handle such an animal,’ Yousif said stiffly, ‘and a woman riding alone would be in appropriate. Go to the main barn and order one of the other jockeys to come and ride him.’
Bella pushed her sweaty hair away from her face, tempted to stick her face in Batal’s water bucket just to cool down. ‘They won’t want to. Not with Kamal lying in hospital as a horrible warning.’
‘Go and tell Hassan. If he values his job, he will exercise the stallion.’
Bella opened her mouth to point out that Hassan probably valued his neck more than his job, and then closed it again. She couldn’t afford to fall out with anyone. She was all too aware that her own job security hung by a thread.
Nodding to the grim-faced Yousif, she walked over to the barn and found several of the jockeys together, discussing who would ride Batal in the race that was looming closer.
‘Hassan—’ Bella picked out the jockey who had become a friend. ‘Give me your clothes.’
The young man put his hands on his hips and grinned suggestively. ‘You are seducing me, no? You find my masculinity overwhelming?’