‘You get one chance, Bella, and then you’re out.’
It was back-breaking work.
Up at five every morning, Bella dragged herself down to the stables, so tired that it felt as though someone had attached lead weights to her limbs.
It didn’t help that all the other grooms and trainers viewed her with nothing but suspicion.
Yousif, Zafiq’s Master of Horse, was civil enough to her but she knew he was waiting for her to slip up. They were all waiting for her to slip up.
And she was concentrating so hard on not slipping up that she was like a cat on hot bricks.
But she’d promised Zafiq that she’d prove him wrong, and she was determined to do that, no matter how many nails she broke in the process.
She was allocated four horses to look after, including Amira and Batal, and she was horribly conscious of the responsibility she had caring for the Sheikh’s favourite and most valuable horses.
But to her surprise, she loved the work. It reminded her of her childhood, when life had been so much less complicated.
She cleaned out stables, she groomed the horses but her real responsibility was Amira and she lavished the mare with love and attention.
‘You’re the only person who isn’t waiting for me to slip on a banana skin,’ she told the mare as she brushed the horse’s coat, two weeks after she’d begged Zafiq for the job.
She wondered if anyone had mentioned to Zafiq that she was doing a good job.
Had he even asked after her progress?
‘You are caring for Amira?’
Hearing an unfamiliar male voice behind her, Bella pushed her damp hair away from her eyes and turned, automatically braced to defend herself.
Had she made a mistake? Was there something she’d overlooked?
A young man stood watching her, admiration in his eyes.
Recognising the Sheikh’s younger brother, Bella rubbed her hands over her trousers self-consciously, knowing she was filthy. ‘Your Highness.’
‘Do you know Amira has bred several Derby winners?’ He strolled into the stable and stroked the horse’s neck. ‘Batal had better win the Al-Rafid Cup for us this year, or we will lose her, and Zafiq would be devastated.’
Bella felt her mouth dry. She wondered whether it was the mention of the Sheikh’s name or the thought of losing Amira that made her feel so sick. ‘Batal will win. He’s the fastest horse I’ve ever seen.’
‘Fast and difficult. He has just thrown Kamal, his jockey.’
‘No!’ Horrified, Bella dropped the brush she was holding and Amira threw her head in the air, picking up the sudden tension. ‘He fell? Why?’
‘Batal spooked and threw him. Kamal has been taken to the hospital. He won’t be riding in the Al-Rafid Cup.’
Horrified by that news, Bella curved her arms protectively around Amira. ‘Is he seriously injured?’
‘Broken bones. Not life threatening, but enough to make sure he can’t ride Batal for the fore seeable future.’
Bella thought of what that might mean for Amira. The black stallion was the only horse in the Sheikh’s stables sure of winning the race. ‘Someone else will have to ride Batal!’
‘Batal is a killing machine,’ Rachid said flatly. ‘It is unlikely that any of the other jockeys will volunteer. Especially with Kamal now in hospital. He is the Sheikh’s top jockey. If he can’t stay on the animal, no one can.’
‘The Sheikh has no trouble riding him.’
‘Sheikh Zafiq is an exceptional rider. But he is not allowed to ride Batal in the race.’
Bella kissed Amira, unable to bear the thought of losing her.
What was Zafiq thinking at the moment, knowing that he was going to lose his favourite mare? She knew how much he loved Amira…