Bella and the Merciless Sheikh

‘Gosh—this is embarrassing.’

‘They are all thanking you.’ Zafiq was by her side, pulling her arm through his and leading her to the head of the table.

Bella shrank as everyone started to clap. ‘They’re clapping because I fell off a horse?’

‘They’re clapping because you put your life at risk for Al-Rafid. Amira is something of a national treasure, as I have explained to you. It is because of you that she is still with us. They are already celebrating future Derby winners.’

‘Batal was certainly giving her flirtatious looks this afternoon.’ Bella smiled awkwardly at everyone who was watching. ‘I think he’s hoping he might get lucky tonight.’

‘Not just Batal.’ Zafiq’s gaze lingered on her face. ‘You look beautiful.’

‘I’m glad you think so after all the effort those poor women put into making me presentable.’ In the past, dressing up had given her confidence but now Bella felt a thousand times more awkward than she had in the desert.

Why? She was used to huge, public gatherings and yet she felt as shy and conspicuous as she had at her first ball at Balfour Manor.

Sitting down next to him it was impossible not to be aware that she was the focus of attention. ‘They’re wondering what a guy like you is doing with a girl like me.’

‘I think it’s obvious to every red-blooded man in the room what I’m doing with you,’ Zafiq drawled, apparently in different to the gossip and speculation. ‘If it weren’t for protocol we would have skipped this part of the evening and gone straight up to my rooms.’

‘Wow. I must fall off your horse more often.’ Bella kept her tone light, but her heart was thundering like Batal’s hooves in the race. So it wasn’t going to end with dinner, then.

Unable to eat anything, she pushed her food around her plate. Every time Zafiq’s arm brushed against hers she jumped, and every time he turned to talk to her she found herself tongue-tied and gauche.

By the time he finally rose from the table and led her from the room, she was a nervous wreck. The only thing she knew for sure was that she was crazily in love with him.

She had no idea at all how he felt about her.

Grateful, obviously, because she’d saved his beloved Amira. But was it anything more than that?

As Zafiq guided her past the guards and into his private room, Bella caught his arm. ‘Wait a minute. I really need to ask you something.’

‘Anything.’ His tone indulgent, he removed his tie and stepped towards her, cupping her face in his hands. ‘But make it quick. I’ve already waited too long for this moment and I’m not prepared to waste what time we have together talking.’

‘Would you have invited me as your guest to the ball if I’d lost the race?’

‘What sort of a question is that?’

‘I—I just want to understand why I’m here.’ Say something nice to me, her brain was shrieking and he gave a smile of masculine appreciation.

‘You’re here,’ he said huskily, ‘because I have denied myself long enough.’

‘So what’s happened to duty and responsibility?’

‘Our relationship has no impact on my ability to perform my duties.’ He slid his fingers through her hair and trailed his lips along the line of her jaw and Bella moaned, feeling the immediate response of her body.

Suddenly she was on fire—his weeks of denial had been her weeks of denial, too. And during those weeks she’d thought long and hard about who she was and who she wanted to be.

‘Wait a minute.’ She pulled back slightly, remembering the promise she’d made to herself in the cold, dark hours of the night when she’d lain awake feeling lonely and reliving those moments in the desert.