never have chosen for herself.
‘What are the terms of the agreement you have made?’ She continued to stand glaring up him, the injustice of her situation filling her with the kind of courage which had evaded her for many years.
‘The arrangement is that you will travel to Kezoban for a minimum of two months, to work with the stallion. A substantial amount of money has already been agreed.’ His tone remained as commanding as ever, but something in his expression softened slightly. Was it possible a hard man such as this could soften? No, she must be mistaken. He was as dominating and controlling as her father. She might be about to use him as a chance to escape her father’s iron rule, but she was under no illusions: this man was the epitome of supremacy. Her terms needed to be laid firmly down.
‘This substantial amount of money has been agreed with my stepmother, no doubt.’ Destiny tried to keep the icy coldness from her voice as she thought of the woman who had replaced her mother. She knew now that her father had never been happy and loving, as she’d thought when she was a young child. That had all been pretence. The day her mother had died, everything changed. He’d stopped pretending. He’d become cold and mercenary, finally meeting his match in his new wife. Now he was allowing her stepmother to use his daughter’s gift to extract money from the Sheikh of a far-off desert kingdom.
‘It has, yes. To cover your absence here. You are a valued member of her team.’ The man’s words remained gentle and coaxing, maybe because he sensed her impending agreement. But his chosen words made her want to laugh out loud. Her stepmother did not value her, always reminding her she was nothing, just a stable girl. It was the money such a deal would generate she valued.
But Destiny couldn’t let him know that his Sheikh’s offer was going to be her way out, her chance to finally to do what she wanted in life and travel. If she could help the Sheikh’s stallion in the process, all the better. It was, after all, something she was good at.
‘I will, of course, have expenses to cover.’ She knew she would never see any form of payment from her stepmother or the business; creating her own expenses was the only way to enable her to return to England and start a new life with money of her own. ‘Double the original payment should be sufficient—and paid to me.’
‘Naturally.’ Was that a hint of sarcasm in his deep voice? His dark eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion and she thought she’d gone too far.
‘I would need to see the horse first.’ She kept her tone brisk, her gaze fixed on his handsome face, hardly able to believe he was accepting the conditions she was attaching to the agreement.
‘In that case, my private jet will be at your disposal to fly you to Kezoban as soon as you are ready.’ A smile of satisfaction touched his lips and those intensely dark eyes held hers, sending that spark rushing through her again, but she pushed the sensation aside, wanting only to ignore it.
‘Your private jet?’ Surely an aide to a Sheikh wouldn’t have his own private jet? He must have meant the Sheikh’s jet, but such details were insignificant now. Her much longed for escape from the ties of her father’s rule were on the horizon and excitement fizzed inside her so much that she couldn’t help but smile up at this strikingly handsome stranger who’d somehow turned her world upside down.
* * *
Zafir was on the verge of confessing that he was the Sheikh, that he’d allowed her to continue with her assumption that he was merely an aide sent to ascertain her ability, but, despite the brightness of her smile, the suspicion in her voice as she’d questioned his last words held him back. He couldn’t risk her turning down his offer, not when his most precious horse still lived the nightmare of the night his sister had died. Everything in his life had spiralled out of control after that night and it was beyond time to put it right.
The marriage he’d known for years he’d have to make was looming, but Tabinah’s death last year had put even more pressure on him to do his duty. And he would, once Majeed was healed. Only then could he put the nightmare of his sister’s unhappiness at the marriage he’d arranged for her aside and fulfil his duty to make his own arranged marriage.
‘My apology—the Sheikh’s private jet.’ His words were sharp but, lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t notice. ‘Do we have a deal, Miss Richards?’
He pushed down the guilt and shame of the night his sister had fled the palace. He would do anything to turn back the clock to the day he’d all but ordered Tabinah to do her duty and marry the man he’d selected for her. He hadn’t been a brother to his younger sister, hadn’t known how desperately unhappy she was. He’d just been the ruler of Kezoban, unaware she’d hated him, wanting only to shut him out of her life. The guilt that he’d made her so unhappy would always remain with him, even as he tried to piece his life together again, but soothing the tortured spirit of his stallion Majeed would help him finally put that night in the past.
He looked at Destiny, her soft brown eyes full of compassion, despite her bravado in standing up to him. Not only was he sure she possessed the gift to heal Majeed, he was certain she had the kindness in her heart the horse needed, unlike the others who had tried and failed.
‘Yes, we do. I can be ready to leave in two days.’
Zafir offered his hand, wanting to seal the deal and return to his homeland. The dark-haired woman who’d captured his attention in more ways than one took his hand and the warmth from hers spread through him. It was as if their spirits were joining, recognising one another on an as yet undiscovered level. She looked up at him and the same confusion which consumed him blazed in her eyes.
Did she feel the pull of attraction too? Did she feel the connection, as if they knew one another, knew that they were fated to cross paths?
He pushed the thought aside. He didn’t have the luxury of choosing his path through life, and this woman, whilst the kind of distraction he would have sought once, was not what he needed now—or ever again.
She intrigued him in a way no woman had ever done and, after the tragedy of the last twelve months, he liked the way she made him feel as her eyes met his. She was as spirited as a stallion and yet as nervous as a young filly foal. Today she’d been bold and fearless addressing him, but what would she be like once in Kezoban? Would she still have that feisty spark when she knew he was the Sheikh?
‘Very well. I will return and prepare for your arrival.’
‘And if I feel that I am unable to help the stallion?’ Her hesitation lingered in the air. ‘Can I leave?’
‘You will not be a prisoner, Miss Richards. You will be the Sheikh’s honoured guest and may leave whenever you wish.’
DESTINY LOOKED DOWN at the arid landscape below as the jet prepared for landing. The old town, seemingly carved from the desert, rose up around a rocky hill and next to a river; on the other side was a building of such splendour it could only be the Sheikh of Kezoban’s palace. Around it, newer and more prosperous-looking buildings nestled, as if for safety, and beyond that lay an expanse of desert. Everything intrigued her and she wished she’d had more time for researching the place before she’d left England.
As the sumptuous jet touched down her excitement grew. This was to be her home for the next two months and, if she was really honest with herself, she was somewhat naively looking forward to seeing the Sheikh’s aide again. It was only after he’d left the stables
