‘Zafiq—’
‘We are not going to talk about this now.’ Zafiq sprang to his feet and pressed the buzzer by the bed. ‘You are to stay in hospital and rest until at least six doctors agree that you are well enough to return to the palace. Then you will be guest of honour at the winner’s banquet.’
She looked slightly dazed. ‘Six doctors?’
‘Just to be sure that they know what they’re talking about,’ Zafiq said firmly. ‘I don’t want you being discharged and then collapsing again. The winner’s banquet is normally held the night of the race but, given what has happened today, I have given instructions for it to be postponed until you are well enough to attend. It is the social event of the Al-Rafid calendar. No more sand in your hair, no more improvised tunics and belts made from the leaves of the date palm. An excuse to dress up and party, which is something I’m sure you’ve been missing out here in the desert.’
‘You don’t like me with sand in my hair?’
He was so relieved to hear her sounding like herself that he smiled. ‘It’s time you were Bella Balfour again. And this time you will be standing by my side, habibiti.’
So what exactly did all this mean?
You will be standing by my side…
Did he mean by his side for one official banquet? By his side for a whole night? Lots of nights?
She’d been waiting for him to mention the fact she’d said, ‘I love you,’ when she fell off Batal, but he’d avoided the topic.
Bella stared at the delicate rose petals floating on the surface of the enormous bath, unable to contain the excitement fizzing inside her even though she knew their relationship had no future.
He’d been to see his princess, hadn’t he? He was already considering marriage.
‘You are very quiet, madam,’ one of the women said, and she gave a small smile, pushing away that thought. She was here now. That was what counted.
‘Just thinking. You have no idea how long it is since I wallowed in a bath.’ It had been weeks. First she’d been in the desert with the Sheikh and then she’d been living in the stables and was always far too tired to take anything more than a quick shower.
She was woman enough to be excited at the prospect of walking into the room and watching Zafiq’s face when he saw her wearing a dress.
Running her hand through the scented water, Bella suddenly found herself thinking about the swims they’d shared in the cooling waters of the oasis.
Feeling a sudden pang, she frowned. This was much better, she told herself firmly. It didn’t even compare.
She sat still while the team of women washed her hair and combed soothing, conditioning oils through each golden strand.
‘The whole country is talking about the way you rode the devil horse. It is no wonder that His Highness is so taken with you.’ One of the women rubbed oil into Bella’s shoulders. ‘You are brave as well as beautiful.’
‘I feel as though I’m being prepared for the harem,’ Bella muttered and then wished she’d kept her mouth shut when the women exchanged shocked glances. ‘Look…sorry, just ignore my big mouth.’
‘It is very unusual for the Sheikh to have such a public relationship with a woman,’ another of the women said quietly. ‘Since the death of his father he is a man whose sole focus has been his duty.’
‘Yeah, I know.’ Bella leant her head back against the bath and closed her eyes. ‘To him emotions and love are a sign of weakness—blah, blah—I’ve heard it all before.’ It had been impossible not to hear some of the gossip that had hummed around the stables and the more she’d heard, the more surprised she’d been that he’d ever embarked on a relationship with her. Even though their’s had been a secret desert tryst, it was obvious to her that his own strict code of behaviour should have prevented him from succumbing to the chemistry that had connected the two of them.