November Harlequin Presents 1(53)

‘I’m sorry if I disappoint you—’

‘Just don’t expect to find me on the sidelines, cheering you on.’

‘I don’t expect anything of you,’ he assured her. ‘That way I can never be disappointed.’

Carrie went cold. Nico had just made it plain that her love meant nothing to him. There was no point trying to stop him as he turned and walked away.



The old city had come alive with banners and bands and sideshows and food stalls. Carrie had never seen anything like it before. She had slipped away from the palace after making her excuses to Princess Laura, telling a small lie, saying the heat was too much for her and she was retiring to her room.

The heat? That was the least of it. Her heart was thundering above the noise of the crowd and all she could think about was finding Nico. It didn’t matter how little he thought of her, she had to try and stop him risking his life.

One of the footmen had told her that Nico would be in the old town by now. The boy had smiled broadly as he’d told her, as if hinting at some extraordinary exploit. That was all she had needed to fuel her anxiety. She had returned to her room right away and slipped into a summer dress, because she knew the heat inside the walled town would be stifling. She was going to find out where the race started from and if Nico was there she would beg him, if she had to, not to take part.

When she reached the centre there was a fever in the air adding to the impression that this was a modern-day gladiatorial race without all the usual regulations and safeguards for the jockeys. She couldn’t let Nico ride….

Carrie could smell the horses before she saw them. She could smell the acrid stench of their sweat, mixed with hot leather and the sweet smell of fear.

Squeezing her way between some food stalls, she managed to push her way to the front of the crowd. People had gathered around a group of nervy thoroughbreds that had been contained in a small roped-off area. Handlers clung on desperately to bridles and lead ropes as the horses bucked and shimmied around the small ring. And then she realised it was a bareback race, the most dangerous race of all.

But Nico wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Turning back, Carrie had to force her way through the crowd. She went back into the vast square in which the race would be run. It sloped inwards like the hub of a great wheel and was paved with slippery stones that made every step treacherous. How much more so for a horse’s hooves? More specifically for the hooves of Nico’s horse? The thought of him travelling the dangerous route at breakneck speed brought on a fresh wave of panic.

She could see the track was being covered in sand, which would offer the horses some protection, but it was narrow and had turns so sharp she could only imagine the jockeys would have to wheel their horses around at right angles. And there surely wasn’t room for two horses to race side by side…Standing on tiptoe, Carrie tried to see over the crowd. She hadn’t come this far to be beaten now. She might not speak Nirolian, but a person’s name was universal…

‘Nico Fierezza?’ An elderly woman turned to face Carrie as she shouted out Nico’s name. The old lady nodded with approval. ‘I know him. Nico Fierezza is riding for my family.’

Carrie’s heart contracted with fear and then reason kicked in. ‘Your family?’ Surely, that couldn’t be right? The old lady was from the countryside where they still wore traditional dress. It seemed unlikely she could be a relative of Nico’s.

‘Yes, for my family,’ the woman insisted proudly, tapping her chest. ‘We have never won the Palio, but Nico has offered to ride for us today and Nico will win.’

Carrie was too full of emotion to speak for a moment. Nico was so much better and so much worse than she thought him. ‘Do you know where I can find him?’

‘Yes, of course, he will be at the starting rope now. He will be there for my family,’ the old lady said again with great pride.

‘Can I go to him?’

As the woman looked at Carrie her face softened. ‘You will be my guest,’ she said. ‘But we will wait for him at the winning post. We will be the first to greet him when he rides over the line.’

‘Oh, no, I must see him now…’ But the old lady didn’t hear her, and the next thing Carrie knew she was being shepherded along. She tried again, but her voice was drowned out by the sound of church bells tolling. It seemed that every bell in Niroli had started up in competition with her.

‘The bells won’t stop until the race begins,’ the old lady yelled in Carrie’s ear. ‘The bells are ringing because the horses in the race are being blessed.’