While Rafael talked to his trainer, Harriet watched the horses break from the starting gate. In spite of every intention to the contrary, she got caught up in the thrill of the race, and when Fearless pulled ahead she surrendered to frantic excitement and cheered him on. ‘Brilliant, brilliant horse…he was really flying there!’ she carolled, starry-eyed with satisfaction when the chestnut romped over the finish line, a clear winner by several lengths. Rafael reaped almost as much pleasure from Harriet’s innocent enthusiasm as from seeing yet another of his thoroughbreds triumph. ‘You really do appreciate a winner. I’ll buy you something special to mark the occasion.’ Harriet flung him a dismayed glance. ‘No, thanks. You don’t need to buy me anything.’ ‘Need…no. But want—yes,’ Rafael declared immovably. ‘Rafael, I—’ ‘If you still don’t want to be photographed with me, I would advise you to stay out of the winners’ enclosure.’ With that smooth warning, he concluded her protest with his own departure.
