Bella and the Merciless Sheikh

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—’