Bella and the Merciless Sheikh

He wasn’t going to go and see her, he told himself savagely, striding through the palace, oblivious to the anxious looks people were casting in his direction. Tomorrow she’d be back in her old life, and the temptation would be removed.

The one thing he did not need in his life was a wild child.

Bella sat at the ornate window seat, staring into space.

Her face was wet with tears and when she heard the door of her room opening she quickly turned her face towards the window, not wanting anyone to see her crying.

‘I honestly don’t need a doctor,’ she muttered thickly, ‘but thanks for the thought.’

‘If you are told to see a doctor, then you’ll see one,’ Zafiq said coldly, and Bella tensed, anger shooting through her like the flame from a blow torch.

‘Go away! I don’t have anything to say to you. You’re a complete and utter bastard, Zafiq.’ She heard the door slam shut and wondered for a moment if he’d stormed out of the room, but then she heard his firm, confident tread as he walked towards her.

‘I could have you imprisoned for that remark.’

‘Is that how you dump women you don’t want any more? You throw them in your dungeon?’

‘I don’t have dungeons,’ he gritted, ‘any more than I have a harem.’

‘Careful, Zafiq, you’re on the verge of losing that precious control of yours.’ She pulled her knees up to her chest, not looking at him, devastated by his rejection. ‘What are you doing here anyway?’

‘I want to know why you lied to me.’

‘I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell you the truth.’

‘Stop acting like a spoiled child,’ he thundered, ‘and answer my question!’

‘Leave me alone.’

‘Why are you sulking?’

‘I’m not sulking. I’m thinking.’

‘A whole new experience for you, I should imagine.’ His acid tone stung and she gave a hollow laugh.

‘Ahh…I see you’ve been reading about me. My life story in headlines.’

‘Why did you tell me you were called Kate?’

‘Because for five minutes of my life I didn’t want to be Bella Balfour, OK?’ Her voice rose. ‘Try having a surname like mine and maybe you’d understand.’ Over whelmed by emotion, Bella turned her head and looked at him for the first time and immediately regretted it. He looked spectacular, his powerful shoulders emphasised by the cut of his expensive suit, his tie a bold splash of designer silk.

‘Nice tie,’ she said flatly, turning away quickly but not quite quickly enough. He’d seen the tears on her cheeks and he gave a soft curse and strode over to her. ‘Make me understand,’ he ordered in a thickened tone. ‘I want to know what you were doing at the Retreat. I want to understand why you ran away and I want to understand why you lied to me.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Bella said wearily. ‘Why don’t you just go and do whatever it is you do. It’s over. I get the message. You don’t need to hammer it home.’ She heard him catch his breath.

‘You are on the front page of every British newspaper,’ he growled. ‘You are “Bad Bella.” You’re the “terrible twin.”’

Bella flinched—each ghastly headline felt as though he were throwing a brick at her. ‘So why are you asking me? It should be quite obvious to a man of your intelligence why I didn’t tell you who I was.’

‘Why were you at the Retreat?’

She gave a hollow laugh. ‘You obviously weren’t concentrating when you read the newspapers.’

‘There were rather a lot of them.’