Reclaimed by the Powerful Sheikh

‘Hello, V. It’s been too long,’ she gently whispered, for his ears only.

It was then that Mason realised she wouldn’t be racing again. Her involvement in the Hanley Cup had only ever been about saving her father’s farm. Sheer desperation and determination had seen her to the end of those three races. Not the joy or love of racing. And before that? An ache stirred in her breast as she acknowledged that it had only ever been a way to make her father proud. To somehow repay him for sticking with her after her mother had left. To justify the way he had sacrificed all his dreams to raise her.

It had been a long while since she’d thought of her mother. She had pressed that hurt as far down as she could beneath, yet somehow mixed with, her grief over Faaris and Danyl. It struck her then that she had done to Danyl what her mother had done to her. She had abandoned him when he’d needed her most, when she’d needed him most.

Guilt cracked against her like a whip, sudden, shocking and devastating. Veranchetti yanked his head back as if he’d felt it too, pulling out of her hold, leaving her hand free to rise to her mouth in horror.

* * *

Danyl cursed as he flew down the steps into the palace building. Where was she? The aide had given him the Prime Minister’s latest white paper and had demanded to meet with him as soon as possible. But for once, Danyl couldn’t jump to the tune of duty. He had to find Mason.

He ignored the curious glances of various dignitaries and guests who had remained at the palace following the gala. As he rounded the corner he almost walked straight into Dimitri and Antonio.

‘There you are,’ Antonio said, halting his progress.

‘We wondered where you had got to,’ Dimitri added.

‘I had...business to attend to,’ Danyl ground out, wondering why they didn’t just move out of his way. He had to find Mason.

‘That business have a name beginning with M?’ Antonio taunted.

He pulled up short, finally greeting the knowing looks pasted across his friends’ faces.

He nodded, almost incapable of words.

‘Pay up,’ Dimitri demanded of Antonio.

Danyl practically growled as Antonio handed over what looked to be at least one hundred dollars.

‘You made a bet on me?’

‘Only on the when, not on the who,’ Antonio reassured him.

‘Antonio thought it would take you a little longer. He had it down as Christmas Eve.’

‘A little longer for what?’

‘To come to your senses. Amata is nice enough...albeit a little young perhaps.’

‘But you need someone like Mason. If she can handle Veranchetti, then she can handle—’

‘I am not a horse,’ Danyl rasped, barely able to keep the volume of his voice civil.

The amused looks grew serious.

‘We know,’ Antonio assured him. ‘Just...take it easy, okay? She’s clearly been through the wringer.’

He couldn’t fault his friends for wanting to protect Mason, even at his own expense. Their bond was strong enough for that.

‘I think she’s at the stables,’ Dimitri said, nodding head in the direction Danyl needed to take.

* * *

He found her beside the stalls, her hand at her mouth as if she’d been shocked by something. He thought then that he knew how she felt. The realisation of just how much he loved her had struck him hard and deep. He wanted to drag her to him, to tell her it would all be okay. But he just couldn’t quite be sure of that yet. He was sure of himself, that he knew to be true. But looking at Mason here, in the stables, once again he was reminded of a wild horse, one that he feared might never be tamed.

She started when she noticed him, shifting from the shadows into the last beam of a setting sun. Dust particles shivered in the wake of her movements, looking like dull sparks and reminding him of the crystals on her dress from only hours before. As if she had morphed from the glittering, beautiful Princess of the night into the soot-covered Cinderella of the day.

‘Danyl, I...’