‘She has been making a huge effort not to upset you.’
That revelation turned Zafiq’s internal radar to full alert. ‘Why? What does she want?’
Rachid grinned. ‘You know women so well.’
‘Sadly, yes.’ Accustomed to his young half-sister’s tricks, Zafiq braced himself for a shopping list. ‘What is it this time? Diamonds? Dresses? Break it to me gently.’ Turning back to the table, he started to sign the papers that Kalif had left for his attention. ‘She is progressing well in her training to bleed some poor man dry?’
‘Not all women are like my mother,’ Rachid said quietly, and Zafiq felt an immediate spurt of regret that he’d allowed his feelings to show.
He put his pen down instantly. ‘My apologies, Rachid.’
‘You don’t have to apologise. I made the comment, not you. And you don’t need to protect me any more. I’m a man now, Zafiq, and part of being a man is facing the truth. You taught me that.’ Rachid straightened his shoulders. ‘I loved my mother, but that love did not blind me to her faults. I see now what trouble she caused with her extravagant nature. The fact that our people still support our family is because of their love for you.’
Stunned, Zafiq found himself struggling for the right thing to say. ‘Rachid—’
‘I know that my mother is the reason you are not yet married. I know you feel our father gave in to her, but Sahra will not be like my mother,’ Rachid said firmly. ‘She does want something, but not jewels or dresses. If you take time to talk to her, I think you’ll find she’s changed.’
Changed?
Everyone around him appeared to be changing and he hadn’t noticed.
Cautious now, Zafiq gave up signing documents. ‘If there is something she wants, why doesn’t she ask me herself?’
‘Because she thinks you will say no.’
Was he such an ogre? ‘What is it she wants?’
‘Her own horse.’
‘A horse?’ Zafiq couldn’t have been more surprised if Rachid had told him his sister had wanted his permission to ride naked through the souk. ‘Sahra is terrified of horses. I have tried repeatedly to encourage her to ride. I’ve hired instructor after instructor and not one of them has managed to persuade her to stay on the animal for more than two minutes. She hates it.’
‘She has been riding every day for the past few weeks. She has conquered her nerves.’
Genuinely astonished, Zafiq spread his hands in question. ‘So who is responsible for this transformation? Presumably Yousif has appointed a good-looking jockey that I don’t know about.’
‘Bella,’ Rachid said simply, his eyes softening. ‘She has spent so much time with Sahra, teaching her. And she’s so brave and beautiful—she has been an inspiration to my sister. Sahra wants to ride like her, and—’
‘Bella? Bella Balfour?’ Aggravated that the mere sound of her name had the ability to ignite a fire storm within his body, Zafiq gave a low growl of impatience. ‘So she has found a way to avoid working by spending her time with a princess. I should have guessed she’d do anything possible to avoid hard graft.’
‘You’re wrong. Bella works harder than anyone. She helps Sahra when she finishes work. They’ve formed a bond.’
Zafiq’s eyes narrowed because he’d never seen such strength in his younger brother before. ‘What can Bella Balfour possibly teach Sahra that I would want her to learn?’ His own discomfort made his tone chillier than he intended. ‘How to use her looks to manipulate a man? How to ignore duty and responsibility?’