the work, she climbed the fence and hurried down the drive behind the cars, arriving as Ibrahim’s guard, as she thought of them now, formed around him.
‘Sorry I’m such a mess—we had quite a storm last night—and Mum’s down in the bottom paddock,’ she said, aware she didn’t sound the least bit sorry. ‘If you want to wait inside I’ll get her for you.’
Ibrahim waved away her apology and her offer.
‘It is you I have come to see.’ He spoke so formally Kate felt a whisper of apprehension slither down her spine. Studying him more closely, it seemed he’d aged since the previous day—grown weaker in some way. Shock over the bee-sting incident, or was the man not well? Could she enquire about his health, or would that be breaking some protocol she didn’t understand?
‘Let’s sit on the deck,’ she suggested, deciding to keep an eye on him as they spoke. Maybe an opening would arise when she could ask him if he was all right.
Having decided this, she led him around the side of the house to the wide, paved deck that looked down towards the river. ‘These chairs are used to work clothes.’
To Kate’s surprise, only Ibrahim followed her; the other men remained by the cars, although the one who’d attended her father’s funeral had peeled off from the group and was heading for the stables.
‘Why—?’ she began.
‘He will find your mother and talk with her,’ Ibrahim said, his smile allaying a little of her tension. ‘You must not be alarmed.’
Kate found herself smiling right back. There was something about this man—the mix of old-world charm and courtly manners—that made her feel safe.
Safe from what?
She had no idea.
She led him up onto the terrace and waved him into a chair, then wondered about the propriety of offering a wet chair to a sultan.
‘I think they’re all dry but you’d better check,’ she said. ‘Sometimes a storm blows rain in under the roof.’
Ibrahim obediently felt his chair before sitting down, but now, seated herself, the safe feeling had gone and Kate was feeling more than a whisper of apprehension.
Had he decided it was easier to tell her rather than her mother that he wasn’t buying Tippy?
What else could it be?
She was about to offer tea or coffee so she could get away for a few minutes and calm herself when he spoke.
‘Firstly, I wish to thank you for what you did. Dr McLean tells me you saved Fareed’s life and I am grateful, as would be my family and all my people for he is greatly loved. So here is where we are. I will buy your mother’s horse, not out of gratitude but because I agree with my stud master that Dancing Tiptoe is a magnificent animal and will hopefully become a great racehorse.’
Kate’s heart sank.
Stupid, really, when the sale meant her mother’s breeding business would survive, and no doubt prosper, once word got around. But it was the training that her mother loved and to lose a horse with Tippy’s potential …
Was she thinking this to stop herself thinking about Billy?
About what losing Tippy would do to Billy’s fragile health?
His happiness?
Tippy was his life!
Ibrahim was still talking—she had to listen. Later she’d worry about Billy. He was saying …
Saying he’d leave the horse with her mother?
‘You’d let her train him? Not take him away? Oh, thank you, Ibrahim, you have no idea how much that would mean to her.’
‘And to your brother?’
Kate nodded.
‘Yes, Billy and Tippy have been inseparable since Tippy was a foal. Billy has some kind of special bond with all the horses, but with Tippy it is so much more—as if he’s found a soul mate.’
‘I guessed as much,’ Ibrahim said quietly, ‘but, as I said earlier, there is a bargain attached. We love bargaining, we of ancient desert blood.’
Ah, the catch, Kate thought, tension building within her as she waited for the axe to drop on this dream result.
‘I know our ways are different but they have proved successful over thousands of years. For a long time now I have been looking for a wife for my nephew, and in you I believe I have found a person of strength and character who would be a perfect match for him.’
‘I’m sorry? You want me to marry a total stranger because you think we’d be a perfect match? Ibrahim, I don’t want to be rude, but that’s ridiculous!’
Far from being offended, Ibrahim smiled calmly and continued as if she’d never spoken.
‘I would not hold you to the marriage if, after a certain time, you both felt it was untenable, but I would like you to give it time, say a year. I realise this must seem strange to you—’
‘Strange? It’s beyond strange. Bizarre might come near but—’
She wasn’t allowed to finish—not that she could think past the ‘but’.
‘To us it is a normal arrangement,’ her guest said. ‘You will have much in common, for you are both doctors and I believe your recent work has been in Emergency, which is where my nephew works in a new hospital purpose-built for such things. So you could work together, although, of course, you would not have to work unless you wished to.’
He had it all planned out, and he spoke as if this was a rational, reasonable conversation.
Which, of course, it wasn’t! Not rational or reasonable at all! Totally unreasonable. Ridiculous, in fact! Although somewhere in the chaos in her head she remembered where this conversation had begun.
It was a bargain.
If she did this, he would not only buy Tippy but would allow her mother to train him.
Here, at the stud …
With Billy …
‘And your nephew, what does he have to say to this?’ she asked, squelching the questions that she really wanted answers to—why couldn’t he find his own wife? Was he a five-foot-two moron with bad skin and a stutter?
Not that a five-foot-two moron with bad skin and a stutter couldn’t be a wonderful man and a great husband, but—
‘Fareed will accept I am acting in his best interests.’
‘Fareed?’ The name came out in a disbelieving squeak. ‘The man whose throat I cut? That’s the man you want me to marry?’
Settle down, Kate, breathe—but before she could obey this sensible order, another thought struck her.
‘This
