Bella and the Merciless Sheikh

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.