‘Shame he missed a pop at the Olympics.’ Ronnie tilted her head cheerfully, sounding as though he’d missed out on a local hunter trial. ‘Meniscal injuries are notoriously tricky to diagnose, aren’t they?’

Especially ones that are entirely fictional, Luca thought bitterly, imagining Paul’s delight when the offer came in. As it turned out, Mishaal seemed to have had nothing to do with it, his father as double-crossed by the wily German dealer as Luca had been. The prince had said nothing, making Luca question for the first time whether he was being protected or gagged under the beadily indulgent gaze of his royal patron.

By breaking his word, Paul might have severed any future chance of selling to one of the richest horse-loving Arab states, but it had been a calculated risk, and it had apparently paid off richly. Beck had netted him a very fat profit not once, but twice.

But away from the German stud, Becks was an open target. If Mishaal had gone after him at that point – and Luca had no way of knowing – it was the stallion’s volatility that had spared him, changing yards constantly, soon harder to trace than a stolen sports car. Having terrified his Lotto-winning owners and hospitalised at least one dealer, Beck had been sold on multiple times in the UK, Ronnie explained, swiftly disappearing under the radar, and getting madder and badder until an auctioneer friend who knew that she had an eye for a bargain tipped her off that there was something classy coming to his sales ring.

‘By then his progeny were starting to make seriously big names for themselves in Germany, so I was lucky nobody else spotted him. I wanted to give him to Daddy to stop this place going under, a peace offering, but the stubborn old bugger wouldn’t touch anything with warmblood in. He went to a friend instead, but that didn’t work out…’ She paused, watching the horse, her face momentarily sad. ‘He’s my bad penny. Or should that be Deutschmark?’

‘Euro.’

She brightened. ‘He’s worth a lot more than one of those. Paul doesn’t know I’ve found him yet, but he’d buy him back like a shot if he did. I very nearly drove Beck over there before I decided to stay here and try to make a go of it.’

Luca didn’t hesitate. ‘Take him back there, Ronnie.’

‘That’s no longer an option.’

‘I’ll take him,’ he offered. ‘I’ll do it this week, bring you back something younger and easier to stand at stud here.’

‘Whoa!’ She held up her hands. ‘Much as they’d like this chap back now that he’s turned out to be the father of gold-plated superstars, we need him here. That,’ she told Luca determinedly, finger pointing into the pen, ‘is our future.’

‘Like fuck he is.’

‘Sharpen up, Luca.’ The blue eyes hardened, and he got a glimpse of what happened when the jolly hockey sticks were split over her knee, splintered ends brandished. ‘I didn’t invite you here to load my only bloody chance of making money straight in a lorry to head off on a road trip.’ She crossed her arms, watching him closely. ‘What do you know that you’re not telling me?’