The Sheikh’s Stubborn Employee: Qadir Sheikhs Book Three Read online

  She’d been studying the route of the endurance race, and long stretches on flats wouldn’t be nearly enough for Maj to come out on top. As a thoroughbred, his strength was flat-out speed, but they couldn’t lose too much ground in the other sections of the course. He needed to train on the hills and rougher terrain. So did she. The rhythm of the ride let her mind relax. The wind stroked its fingers through her hair.

  It was an endurance race, and her studies of the map had also told her that slow and steady—right up to the crucial moment on the last day—would win the race. Maj would need to put on bursts of speed, yes, but if Zaman kept him reined in—only using his thoroughbred sprint strategically—he stood a chance at winning. She’d have to be pretty convincing with Zaman on that front, but there were ways to get him to listen. Heat flamed across her cheeks, and she urged Maj into a sprint.

  Up ahead, Saric bobbed into and out of view, going over a few of the lower hills in a streamlined blur. She pushed Maj a little harder, feeling him work for it, then brought him back down. When she felt he’d reached a good midpoint of his workout, she turned him and headed back to the stable. Both the horse and her mind had settled.

  At the stables, she hopped off Maj’s back and gave him a loving pat on the neck. “Amazing job,” she told him. “You’re the best horse in the race.” Maybe Maj didn’t know what she was saying. Maybe he did. Either way, it felt good to compliment him on a job well done.

  She led the horse back into the stable and found Zaman and Baqir by Riah’s stall. A groom ran up and took Majalun from her—he would walk the horse cool and give him a well-deserved bath before putting him up.

  “—never beat my Sirac,” Baqir was saying. “Not today, not tomorrow, and not in the race.”

  “How would you know? This is the first time I’ve seen you at the stables in months,” Zaman shot back.

  “I come early, before you’re even awake,” teased Baqir. “And my section is nicer than yours. I don’t tend to lurk around here if I can help it.”

  “You lurk everywhere you go,” said Zaman. “But I have the better trainer, so you can put your hopes to rest.”

  Emily’s heart went into overdrive, her pulse beating like a hummingbird’s wings. He thought she was the best trainer. And then there was a downbeat of disappointment—despite what they’d done in bed, he still thought of her as an employee. Which she was. So there was no reason to feel disappointment. She swallowed it like a chunk of crab apple and put a smile on her face.

  “Daud is better, and you know it,” said Baqir. “Besides, we both know that you’ll micromanage your trainer until they sabotage you.”

  Zaman scoffed. “I would never do that.”

  “Of course not.”

  An ache settled in behind her breastbone. This kind of teasing banter had flowed between her and Charlotte back in Kentucky, her sister quick with the kinds of mild insults that made Emily laugh. She missed her sister. She constantly found herself looking over her shoulder to tell Charlotte something, or absently wondering when she’d be back from a ride, or any number of things.

  Her homesickness was complicated by the fact that she loved these stables, too. She loved the meticulous upkeep. She loved the energy that kept the stablehands moving quickly, smiles on their faces. And she loved the sight of Zaman, standing there in his riding clothes, ribbing his brother.

  Did she love it as much as she loved Kentucky?

  She hesitated in the doorway, the thought bringing her up short. The stakes weren’t lower here, exactly, but there was no sense of impending doom. Nobody here would lose the farm—or the palace—over the outcome of the race. For the first time in her life, she was doing what she loved without a pit of dread at the base of her gut.

  Not unless she thought too much about the farm, anyway.

  She had to snap out of it.

  “You’re both all talk,” she said to the brothers, her voice hitching. She pushed past it. “But don’t you dare race against each other today. Your horses have been thoroughly worked.”

  Emily felt Zaman’s eyes on her, so hot she thought she might go up like tinder against a struck match.

  “How did he do?” His low voice was a lasso around her waist, pulling her in. She resisted, but it was a near thing. A very near thing. Even with Baqir standing there, watching the two of them.

  “You’ve chosen an excellent horse,” she said. “And an even better trainer.” Emily gave a bow. “Praise me anytime.”

  They all laughed, warmth swelling in her chest.

  She held on to that as tightly as she could.

  8

  Zaman couldn’t stay away from the stables.

  He liked riding as a general rule, but before Emily—he thought of his life that way, in two parts: Before Emily and After Emily—he hadn’t had much of an excuse to linger. He trusted Daud to hire and manage the stablehands, and when Zaman wanted to ride, there was always a horse waiting for him.

  Now he was beginning to think of the stables with a kind of excitement that embarrassed him a little. Because of course it wasn’t the stables that he was slightly infatuated with. It was Emily.

  She was so good with the horses, and she’d even won over Daud, who hadn’t allowed himself to be won over since his early twenties when he’d met his wife. So Zaman was more than a little glad that it was time for his hands-on phase with Majalun to begin. He usually worked closely with his chosen horse leading up to the endurance race, but otherwise left the training up to his staff. Zaman had used all his self-control not to jump into the process early, which he was sure the entire stable staff would notice.

  Or maybe they wouldn’t, he thought as he strode in under the golden light of the afternoon. Quite a few of them seemed to have crushes on Emily.

  But it wasn’t Emily who leaned over the door of Riah’s stall. It was Daud. The older man was feeding Riah a peppermint.

  “Afternoon,” said Zaman.

  Daud returned his greeting with a stone face and a low noise in the back of his throat.

  “I’m pleased to see you too, Daud,” Zaman said.

  “I’d be more pleased if you were Emily.”

  “You too?”

  Daud arched one eyebrow at him.

  Majalun reached his muzzle out of the stall, and Zaman gave him a pat. “Is she out in the training ring?”

  Daud gave him a narrow-eyed look. “Where else would she be?”

  Maj hung his head over Zaman’s shoulder, blocking his view. By the time he turned to deliver a retort to Daud, he was gone. “She might be in the stables,” Zaman said to the empty air. “She might be in here working with you.”

  He hadn’t seen Emily in the larger ring in front of the stable, so he went to the smaller one off its side. There she was, boots hooked into the fence, shouting directions to one of the stablehands, who was riding a steady chestnut around the ring. He was the youngest of the group—a local teen who’d shown up one day last year and begged Zaman for the job. He was enthusiastic about horses and wanted to be a jockey or trainer.

  “Outside leg!” Emily shouted.

  “Like this?” The boy’s face shone with admiration. Zaman felt a stab of jealousy at how he was drinking up all of Emily’s attention, but he quickly shoved it to the back corner of his mind. He had no cause to be jealous, he reminded himself. No cause at all.

  “Yes, like that!” Emily clapped and let out a cheer, which seemed like overkill to Zaman. “Remember, the inside leg is giving him a place to turn—like that, like that.”

  The stablehand—his name escaped Zaman—was learning leg commands from the best in the business. He had no idea how lucky he was.

  Or maybe he had every idea.

  Zaman stepped into full view of the ring at the same moment the teen dismounted.

  “That was amazing!” The groom punched a fist in the air. “Thank you, thank you!” He darted away from the horse and threw his arms around Emily. “Thank you.”

  Zaman moved forward before he
knew he was doing it, and he registered the moment when the teen saw him. His eyes went wide. “Sheikh Zaman.” He leapt back from Emily and bowed his head. “I hope you weren’t looking for me. I was just—Emily was—”

  Emily gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “It’s all right, Korah. If he wanted you, he’d have come out sooner.”

  That was bold, but Zaman wanted to be alone with Emily more than he wanted to lecture her about giving orders on his behalf. Clearly, she’d assumed quite a level of authority at the stables. Some instinct told him that it had to do with her ability to connect with people and horses, so maybe he’d keep his mouth shut.

  “Korah, run in and saddle Majalun, would you?” he said instead of the reprimand he could have issued.

  “Right away.” Korah went back for the horse he’d been riding, a mare named Johara, and started to lead her back into the stables. Emily took the lead rope out of his hand.

  “I’ve got her,” she said. “Go on ahead.”

  Once Korah was gone, her eyes settled on Zaman, the ocean hue made even more brilliant by the sun. “Jealous much, Sheikh Zaman?”

  “Jealous?” he scoffed. “Of a groom?”

  She shrugged. “He does get to work with horses all day. That’s nothing to look down on.”

  “Trust me, I don’t look down on it. I—” She looked delectable in her curve-hugging jeans and a T-shirt with a scooped neckline that did her every possible favor. She’d been wearing a long-sleeved shirt, but she must have gotten too hot, because it was tied around her waist. “Perhaps I am a little jealous.”

  Emily blushed. “I’m not going to talk you out of your jealousy. The stables are wonderful.”

  “So is a ride in the hills.” He hadn’t planned on inviting anyone along, but now that Emily was standing in front of him, he couldn’t resist. “I’d like to take Majalun out—with my trainer’s approval, of course. Come with me.”

  “It would be my pleasure,” she said instantly. She snagged her helmet off a fencepost and swung herself into Johara’s saddle. “You want a real ride, don’t you?” She learned forward and patted the horse’s neck. “Ready when you are.”

  “Me or the horse?”

  “You,” she said with a laugh, and a deep warmth welled up in Zaman’s chest.

  “Your horse, Sheikh Zaman.” Korah was back with Majalun. Zaman mounted, and they were off, shadows stretching to the side.

  They urged their horses into a trot. “Fancy some sightseeing?” called Zaman. There was a particular view he wanted her to see—an overlook on one of his favorite hills—and it was the perfect distance for a ride.

  “No,” said Emily.

  A laugh burst out of him. “No?”

  “I think we should take the western trail. Get Maj used to the kind of terrain he’ll travel during the race.”

  And then, before waiting to see if he agreed, Emily cut off in that direction, riding hard.

  Zaman breathed in pure irritation and very nearly barked out an order for her to come back. But barking anything wasn’t his style. Winning was.

  He gave Maj his head, letting him gallop at full speed, and caught up with Emily. It felt good to blow by her on the breeze. He hadn’t gone far when he heard her calling to him. It felt less good to rein Maj in and slow down, but he did, turning and heading back toward her.

  “—the race,” she was saying.

  “Pardon?”

  She brought Johara up next to Majalun. “Slow and steady will win this race,” Emily told him. “I’m working with Maj so that he doesn’t go all-out too early and burn out.”

  “The point is to go the fastest,” Zaman said. “The point is to win.”

  “Not at the expense of injury or running out of horse. He’s a thoroughbred, remember—he can run incredibly fast, but for short stretches.” Johara was calm underneath Emily, but Maj pranced, testing the reins.

  He wanted to let Maj loose to match the wild spirit in his chest, so he did. He urged the horse into a canter. “Come on. Let’s see what he can do,” he called over his shoulder.

  Emily laughed, but the wind swept the laugh away, and all he could hear was Johara’s hoofbeats chasing him.

  They raced through the foothills. Zaman’s heart beat in time with Maj’s hoofbeats, fast and free, and he brought them around to the east, toward the overlook he’d wanted to show Emily. Sometimes you had to take a roundabout path to get where you wanted to go, but he’d get there in the end. He was in charge. He and Maj were in charge. Maj had incredible speed—so much that when they approached the new trail, he had to circle back around.

  Emily ended up ahead of him on the trail, and they had to slow down, picking their way carefully over the rocks. It narrowed again.

  “Are you sure about this?” Emily said over her shoulder. “It’s getting pretty tight.”

  He held himself back from making a joke. “I’m sure. We’re almost there.”

  His heart beat harder and the hairs on the backs of his arms rose to points of anticipation. The gravel of the trail crunched under the horses’ hooves, the pattern of their steps so familiar that it seemed imprinted on his body, and then Emily came to a stop ahead of him. This was it. She was seeing his favorite view for the first time. “Wow,” she said. “Wow.”

  9

  Emily couldn’t quite get a breath. Maybe from the hard ride, or maybe it was the sight in front of her—either way, the air felt thin.

  She guided Johara so she could get a better look at the…well, it was an oasis, for lack of a better word. It was an oasis up here in the mountains, something out of an old cartoon or a child’s drawing. A small pool with crystal water, two trees beside it. It was like someone had taken a scoop of the desert that sprawled below them and placed it gently on the overlook.

  “Wow,” she said again, and the wow held all the thoughts that swirled around her mind. For one thing, this overlook was amazing. For another, Zaman’s high-handedness was going to lose him the endurance race. For a third, he was a good rider. She’d taken a special pleasure in watching him speed away with Majalun. Zaman’s body was made for riding, with its compact lines and hard muscles, and he moved easily with the horse, always anticipating every movement Maj made.

  So maybe he’d be fine no matter what she did. But if he pushed Maj at top speed, well…

  The sunlight flashing on the surface of the pool broke her train of thought. It was so unlikely that her brain kept hitching on it, over and over. Mountains. Desert. Oasis. The three things should have gone together neatly, like the squares of a quilt, and yet—

  “This place is so strange,” she blurted, sliding out of the saddle. “How is it even here?”

  She heard Zaman’s feet hit the ground behind her and tore herself away from the view. He led Majalun out from the narrow trail, a nostalgic smile on his face.

  “I don’t know. It’s been here since I was a child.” He laughed. “I’m surprised it still exists. I expected to find nothing here at all when we reached the end of the trail.”

  “Nothing? You wanted to bring me here to show me nothing?”

  “Not nothing.” Zaman gestured out over the desert falling away beneath them and the mountains to the left. “This view is stunning all on its own, don’t you think?”

  Johara shifted her weight beside Emily as they all looked out over the vista. It was almost magic, how close the palace was to the mountains and the desert. She’d never suspect it, riding through the closest foothills. And yet here they were, seeing it with their own eyes. The sweeping view made the hairs on the back of Emily’s neck stand up.

  “Let’s take a break,” offered Zaman. “Come this way.”

  He stood next to some tethering posts driven into the ground. Emily hadn’t noticed them until now, and it was no surprise—the view commanded her attention. She tethered Johara to the post next to Majalun and followed Zaman to the edge of the pool.

  He sat down on a wide, flat rock near the edge and pulled off his riding boots.


  “You’ll freeze your feet, dipping them in mountain water,” Emily said. It was mountain water, wasn’t it? There was no waterfall or stream running to the pool, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t freezing.

  Zaman grinned up at her. “Put your hand in.”

  “No,” she said immediately. “That sounds like a trap.”

  He splashed his own hand into the water. “See? The water’s fine.” He laughed. “Feel it for yourself.”

  Emily crouched down next to him and dipped her hand in the water, ready to pull it out at the first sign of trouble. But the water wasn’t cold. It wasn’t cool. It wasn’t even warm. It was hot—the most pleasant heat Emily had ever felt in an outdoor pool. “A hot spring. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Zaman shrugged. “It’s always nice to have an element of surprise.”

  He had his pants rolled up to his knees and his feet in the water by the time she got her boots off and plunged her feet in. Zaman sat close enough to touch, and she felt the pulse of the space between them. If she put out her hand right now…

  If she put out her hand and took his, then they could end up doing far more than holding hands. Emily’s mind still hummed with thoughts about the pace she’d seen him set during their ride. If she didn’t get those out into the open, she’d be doing Zaman a real disservice. And she wouldn’t be doing what he was paying her to do, which was to train her horse to win the endurance race. His horse, she reminded herself. Maj and Riah weren’t her horses anymore. Johara felt like one of her horses, but she wasn’t, either.

  Zaman dragged his feet through the water and leaned back on his palms, his eyes closed, face tilted toward the sky.

  “I have some concerns.”

  A smile curved the corner of his mouth. “About the water?”

  “About the race.” She barreled on before he could stop her. “It’s going to be key not to give Maj his head for long in the first two days of the race. Otherwise, he’ll fall apart at the end.”

  “The timing is cumulative,” Zaman said, not opening his eyes. “I can’t purposefully drag it out.”