Bella and the Merciless Sheikh
She didn’t bother correcting him.
‘You don’t understand—’ Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat and tried again. ‘I—I’m begging you, Zafiq. Don’t send me back.’
His gaze was hard and unsympathetic. ‘What? No flirtation? Have you decided to go straight to feminine tears and bypass your usual seduction routine?’
‘I don’t blame you for thinking that way,’ Bella whispered, ‘but this is different. I’m not putting on an act. I—I can’t go back. The press will destroy me, and my family has had enough bad publicity because of me. I just want to stay out of the way.’
‘Then go and visit Europe.’
‘I don’t have the money—’ Her face was scarlet and Zafiq made a contemptuous sound. ‘So you don’t care about your family. And you’re asking me for money.’
‘No!’ Her voice rang with passion and her fingers shook as she rubbed the tears from her eyes. ‘That isn’t what I’m asking. I— Will you— I want you to give me a job.’
Stunned silence greeted her outburst and she didn’t blame him. She was as shocked as he was. ‘A job?’ Zafiq looked at her with incredulous disbelief and then started to laugh. ‘What sort of job? Chief trouble-maker?’
His lack of belief in her stung, and she lifted her chin. Now he knew she was Bella Balfour he was making the same assumptions as everyone else. ‘I wouldn’t cause trouble—’
‘Bella, you just have to walk into a room and trouble walks up and smacks you on the cheek,’ he said wearily. ‘And there is no job in my palace that would encompass your unique skill set.’
Suddenly she was determined to show him. To show everyone. ‘You need someone in your stables,’ Bella blurted out, catching his arm as he turned to leave. She felt the muscle flex under her fingers and removed her hand instantly, stung by the sudden physical connection that threatened to burn her alive. ‘Please, just listen to me for a moment. I’m good with your horses, you said so yourself. Let me look after Amira. I’ll be her groom. I’ll train her. I’ll sleep in her box. Anything, but let me stay here.’
‘A job in my stables requires hard work and discipline. I have seen no evidence of either quality in you.’
‘I can work hard!’
‘When did you last get up at five in the morning and muck out a stable?’
‘Never,’ Bella said honestly, ‘but—’
‘Bella, you wouldn’t last a day in my stables.’
Her eyes flashed. ‘Give me the job and I’ll prove you wrong.’
Zafiq stared at her in brooding silence and Bella swallowed, her heart pounding so hard she was sure he must be able to see it. This was a different man from the one she’d teased and laughed with in the desert. This man had never veered from duty and responsibility and she had no doubt that his authority was absolute. ‘Please, Zafiq. Don’t send me home.’
She saw in decision shadow his handsome face, saw his eyes flicker to her mouth, and then instantly move away as if the glance might have fatal consequences.
‘My Master of Horse is called Yousif,’ he said coldly. ‘He has complete authority over the running of my stables. If he mentions to me once, just once, that you have been anything other than an asset, then you will be on the first flight out of Al-Rafid Airport.’
‘Thank you,’ Bella muttered, her legs melting with relief as she realised he’d actually agreed to her request. She told herself that it didn’t matter that she’d probably never see him again—at least, not alone. The only thing that really mattered was that she didn’t have to go home to her old life. ‘Thank you.’