Bella and the Merciless Sheikh

Bella sighed. Had everyone read the newspaper coverage on her? ‘No,’ she said wearily, refraining from pointing out that after four days with the Sheikh, she had a whole new take on masculinity. ‘I’m saving your job and your life. But I need a spare set of your clothes. Just do it, Hassan. I’ve been up since five, I’m hot and tired and my leg is sore because Amira just nipped me.’

‘Lucky Amira.’ One of the other jockeys offered her a bowl of dates and she helped herself with a smile of thanks, never able to say no to that particular treat.

‘Good job I’m doing all this exercise or I’d be the size of a palace. Hassan, go and hide somewhere for a couple of hours. The rest of you need to say you saw him riding Batal.’

‘I wouldn’t ride that monster if it cost me my job.’ Hassan handed her a set of clothes, his expression curious. ‘What are you going to do with these?’

‘Ride “that monster” so it doesn’t cost you your job.’ Her tone flippant, Bella walked to the back of the barn. ‘Turn your backs.’ Quickly she stripped off her trousers and T-shirt and pulled on Hassan’s riding clothes.

Then she twisted her blonde hair into a tight knot and secured it on top of her head, promising herself that tonight she was going to find time to wash it. Only when she was confident that not a single wisp of blonde hair was showing, did she pull on the racing helmet.

‘You’re riding the stallion? Are you mad?’ Genuinely concerned, one of the jockeys hurried over to her. ‘Bella, you can’t do that. You’re a woman.’

‘Oh, please—’ Bella shot him an impatient look and pushed her feet into a pair of riding boots. ‘Being a woman hasn’t stopped me getting up at the crack of dawn and slaving in these stables. I learned to ride before I could walk. And anyway, do you want to ride Batal?’

The jockey pulled a face. ‘No. I have a wife and children.’ His expression sheepish, he looked at the others and they all looked away.

‘Precisely.’ Bella fastened the helmet. ‘But one of us has to do it or Hassan will lose his job. Batal lets me feed him and clean him out without biting me. Hopefully he’ll let me climb on his back.’

Perhaps he’d remember her from the desert.

Perhaps he’d remember that, for a short moment in time, she’d had his master’s approval.

Walking back across the barn, Bella removed the scarf that Hassan was wearing around his neck. ‘No one is expecting me to ride, so they won’t notice. I just need you to cause a distraction while I fetch Batal from the stable.’

Hassan grabbed her hand. ‘Why are you doing this for me?’

‘Because you covered for me when I messed up at the beginning,’ Bella muttered, struggling to position the scarf effectively. ‘It’s because of you that Yousif didn’t go to Sheikh Zafiq, and don’t think I don’t know it. Can you help me tie this stupid thing?’

The jockeys looked uneasy. ‘A woman shouldn’t be riding alone…’

‘You’re forgetting—I’m not riding as a woman. I’m riding as Hassan. And anyway, I’m only taking Batal to do some track work. I’m not riding through the streets.’ Bella fastened the scarf across her face by herself. ‘How do I look?’

The men looked at each other.

‘You have breasts,’ Hassan muttered, his face scarlet, and Bella frowned.

‘Oh. I’d forgotten about that. That’s inconvenient.’

‘Wear this—’ One of the other jockeys gave her a silk jacket. ‘It’s the Sheikh’s colours. Anyone seeing you will know you’re riding for him and it covers your—’ He cleared his throat awkwardly. ‘It shouldn’t draw attention and it might keep people away from you. Are you sure you want to do this?’