Читать книгу His Irresistible Darling - Sarah Randall - Страница 10
ОглавлениеPip had just started to turn her key in the heavy front door when she felt a presence behind her. She gasped and started to turn before being paralysed as soft lips grazed behind her ear. Her breath hitched but she was held in place by strong hands at her hips, pinning her tightly between the door and a tall, hard body.
“Allah forgive me but I need you.” Jumal. His gruff, whispered voice vibrated against the shell of her ear, made her instantly wet and her inner muscles clench in the most sensitive part of her body. Her knees weakened beneath her but the strength in his arms held her up.
Her hands seemed to move of their own volition to cover his hands at her hips; her head fell back and to the side against his firm chest. Her neck exposed to him. He accepted her silent invitation and took complete control of her body, running kisses up her neck as she closed her eyes and maximised the sensations her body was feeling, unable to turn around.
Someone groaned; she wasn’t sure who but as her traitorous body was responding to his touch like a cat in heat, it was likely her.
“Hmm, so goddamn wrong but I just don’t care any more.” He moaned against her skin as he brushed his chin over the sensitive part where her neck met her shoulder, her body set alight at the feel of his slight stubble—huh, she had the strangest thought that she’d been wearing a jacket earlier. She must have taken it off in his car.
“Going to hell but at least I’ll have tasted you before I go,” he murmured. God his voice was amazing and much better when it wasn’t yelling at her in the office.
She squirmed involuntarily as he moved his hands from her hips to her inner thighs. He used his foot to part her legs further, their bodies so tight that she could feel his body’s excitement against her lower back. She braced her hands against the door and pushed back against him harder, delighted by his strangled moan in response.
For a fleeting moment she worried about her neighbours, but when his fingers moved tantalisingly over her damp knickers all such worries were forgotten…and merely added to her excitement.
“Oohhhh—” This time she knew for certain that the moan belonged to her as he pulled her lace knickers to one side and slid one and then a second finger into her tight slickness.
“Come for me, Pippa. Come now.”
Yes, sir…
The man had magic fingers that were about to make her come apart in less than a minute. Abracadabra one…two…
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!!!!
Whoa whoa whoa, what the hell was that bloody noise? Was it a neighbour’s car alarm?!
“No, No, NO!” she complained as she came violently awake. Her arm shot out aimlessly towards her bedside table, knocking her glass of water and the blasted alarm clock to the floor.
A dream, just a goddamn dream… She felt robbed and utterly cheated. She hadn’t even got to come in her first wet dream!
She slumped back against her pillows and slapped her palms against the duvet, completely deflated but highly aware of the delicious, if unsatisfied, ache between her legs and the sheen of sweat decorating her brow. She shivered involuntarily as a chill swept over her body from the air conditioning and decided to ignore the fact that she’d had a naughty dream about her boss—her brother’s best friend. Nope. She’d think about that later. Much later. It could be filed under “Forbidden Fantasy”.
With a roll of her eyes she remembered setting her alarm early so she could make a start on going over the contract Jumal had thrown on her desk last night.
“Agghh,” she complained to no one, throwing back her duvet and stumbling over her discarded shoes on her way to her kitchen/diner. “Ouch. Bloody shoes,” she cried out as she then stumbled over her lazily discarded bag. She treated herself to a mug of hot chocolate, grabbed the file from her bag and settled herself at her kitchen table, elbows resting, propping her head up on her hands, and decided that this activity might actually cure her infatuation!
***
As his alarm clock turned six a.m., Jumal finally conceded that he wasn’t going to get any sleep. He’d watched the hours tick by since finally getting into bed four hours or so ago, without a wink of sleep.
He absently ran his hand over his head as he made his way to the kitchen to grab a coffee and tapped the note he’d seen late last night from his housekeeper reminding him that she was now away for an extended holiday. She was travelling to California for her daughter’s wedding and to help with the final organisation and hen party or whatever they called it in America. He grimaced and shook his head as he recalled Ana and Matt’s wedding, preceded by the stag weekend in London. He still couldn’t face drinking whisky.
As promised, his housekeeper had filled his fridge and had made frozen meals for him with notes stuck to them telling him how long to microwave. He didn’t have the heart to explain that he could actually cook and enjoyed doing it when given the chance. It was obvious that the woman missed her daughter and Jumal was happy to meet her need to care for him in substitution. Her note also reminded him that the plumber was coming back to fix the guest bathroom water supply and she’d given the spare key to the concierge. “What would I do without you, Maria?” he mumbled, before filling his cup and leaning back against the kitchen counter. His mind wandered yet again back to the image he’d seen in his mind all night. Pippa Darling. Her angel-like pixie face, long dark hair with a fringe she constantly blew out of her pale blue eyes—eyes framed by her strangely attractive Buddy Holly-esque thick black-rimmed glasses. At all of five foot three, she was adorably sexy and in his opinion, her breasts were perfect regardless of whether they were “boosted” or not. He found himself smiling at the image in his head and chastised himself yet again, “She’s too damn young. End of…” He slammed his cup into the dishwasher before heading for the shower.
***
After an hour and a half, Pip’s eyesight was blurred and her head ached. She dropped her head to the table and gently banged it in despair. She decided to shower before coming back to have one last look over the contract and finalise the notes on her laptop. She needed a break. Terms in the contract just weren’t making any sense to her. No doubt they were completely understandable to Miss Tall Dark and Sultry.
As she leaned against the cool tiles of the shower and allowed the hot water to pound over her aching neck muscles she cast her thoughts back to her decision to approach Jumal and take the step of leaving England. She had never been one to take the easy route or allow an opportunity to pass by and even at her relatively young age, she’d travelled both with her parents as a child but more independently once she’d finished her A levels. Her parents were a lot older than most of her friends’ parents but they hadn’t been stifling or overprotective; instead they’d encouraged their daughter in her desires to travel and undertake just about every hobby and sporting activity possible. Whenever she got homesick, which was usually just after she’d spoken to her brother and Ana on Skype, she would mentally slap herself and remind herself just how lucky she was to have such an opportunity.
Matt’s whirlwind romance with the world-famous super model Ana Harper aka her sister-in-law, had taken even her by surprise and made her look closely at her own future. Matt was now a father with another mini Darling already on the way; he was a successful businessman in his own right and had never been happier. She honestly wasn’t jealous of her brother and his new family, never that, but he’d always been there for her, particularly after their parents’ deaths. However, she couldn’t keep relying on him and assuming he would be there to pick up the pieces as she raced through life like a whirlwind. She needed to gather her inner strength and assert her independence once again—make a stand on her own. Even if the very thought of a new environment with new work colleagues in a foreign land and unfamiliar culture had made her nauseous and brought back the panic and dread of her earlier life experiences.
***
“Afwan! Oops sorry, oh pardon me, sorry, afwan! Oh heck was that your bag? I’m so very sorry—agghh—”
Pip sighed heavily and blew her fringe out of her eyes as she finally dropped down into the window seat of the heavenly air-conditioned Metro Rail, letting her bags fall to the floor. She knew she was still blushing and had already apologised profusely to the man sitting next to her in the aisle seat and whose lap she’d sat on as the metro started to depart with a sudden jerk. She was pretty sure she’d also clobbered him on the head with her fully packed lunch box.
She’d had to run for the bloody tram as, being sleep deprived, she’d forgotten the report for Jumal on her first attempt to leave her apartment earlier and had to double back.
She took a deep calming breath and looked out of the window to the long stretch of sun-drenched beach and sparkling deep blue sea. She smiled longingly at the children laughing and running away from the breaking waves. It was a game she and her brother had played on many happy holidays when they were children, before he’d grown too old for such childish games and instead discovered girls and got his driving licence. She loved this journey to and from work on the metro and chose to take it despite having the car.
She was still captivated by the warm colours of the island set in an enviable position just off the coast of the United Arab Emirates. There were pockets of perfectly manicured greenery amongst the cool high-rise glass jungle metropolis but the main colours of the land were the warm reds, browns and burnt orange of the mountains and dunes, which set the perfect contrasting natural backdrop to the business district of central Dubain. The dry heat had hit her like a solid wall when she’d first stepped out of the air-conditioned airport but she’d quickly acclimatised and now shivered when she thought of the bitter, hard winters of her home in the isolated Yorkshire moors—although she did miss the greenery. The people of Dubain were welcoming in the extreme and smiled encouragingly at her when she tried to speak Arabic with mixed success. She rested her forehead against the window.
She was distantly aware of her neighbour clearing his throat. “I’m Jake by the way.” Her napping was interrupted by the sound of an American accent. She turned and met a friendly smile and shook his offered hand.
“Oh hello. I’m Pippa. Pip.”
“Nice to finally meet you,” he said before continuing, “I’ve seen you quite a few times on the tram. I think we must live and work near each other. I’ve been meaning to work up the courage to introduce myself. When you fell into my lap I thought it was as good a sign as any that I should finally say hello. So, hello.”
She felt herself blush again. “I really am sorry about that. I think I fell over that lady’s bag,” she said, nodding over the aisle.
“No worries. Sadly, it’s not every day that a beautiful woman falls into my arms.” He offered her a boyish grin.
“Well, thanks for catching me. So you’re American?”
“Yep. Born in upstate New York. I’ve just moved over here and started work at Goldbergs as a trader; I tried for a New York post but they wanted more experience so I thought I might as well gain it here.”
“Well, welcome to Dubain. I’ve only been her a few months too, so I know it can be quite daunting and difficult to meet people our age.”
As they continued to chat, Pip tried to keep an eye out for her stop. Having nearly missed the tram, there was no way she was going to miss her stop, but she was enjoying Jake’s easy company.
“So have you managed to do any sightseeing yet?” she asked.
“No. Not yet I’m ashamed to say. I haven’t really got my head around the language either.”
“Well, most people have a really good understanding of English. The children start learning it straight from primary school and I think they’re starting to teach their parents too. Just try a few words a ‘shukran’ here and there, and most people will be happy with that,” she suggested helpfully. “Once you get settled, you should definitely take the cable car up to the summit of Mount Gaiza. The views from the top are apparently outstanding; sunset is supposed to be the best time to go.”
He pursed his lips. “You haven’t been up yet?”
“Oh no, erm. I’m not such a fan of cable cars,” she admitted to him before continuing, “I keep meaning to see if there is a track I could drive up and then hike the rest of the way to the summit.”
“Sounds good. Maybe you’d let me come with you. I’m a good hiker. Spent many a happy vacation hiking and skiing in the Appalachian Mountains back home.”
“Yeah? I learnt to snowboard there when I was travelling a couple of years back—at the ski mountain resort. Do you know it?”
Jake’s face lit up. “You’re kidding? It’s my favourite place to ski! Er…so, I was thinking of taking the ferry over to Dubai one weekend and trying out that purpose-built snow centre. Maybe we could do that together too?”
Pip stammered, “Oh er, yeah sure.”
“Sorry. I’m being a pushy American, aren’t I? I just haven’t met anyone yet that’s under the age of forty and that I can speak to without looking like an idiot.”
“It’s fine, honestly, and sounds like a great plan for one weekend.”
“So where do you work, Pip?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.
“Right there,” she said, pointing over his shoulder.
She watched him turn and look over to the tallest of the glass skyscrapers in the distance she had pointed towards.
He turned back to her and arched a brow. “You work for him?” He nodded his head back towards the tall glass tower, his face a mixture of horror and admiration.
“I do indeed. So do you know Jumal?” she asked.
“Oh no, not personally. I’ve just heard about his rep at work. Is he as bad as they all say?” He was looking at her like she was his hero for working with the mighty Jumal Aldabbagh.
“Worse,” she told him, “and if I don’t get off now he’s likely to stab me in the loo with the toilet brush.”
At his bemused look she added, “Private joke.” And she moved to gather her belongings together. She stood and her new friend offered a gentlemanly hand for her as he moved into the aisle.
“Oh, here’s my card,” she said, digging it out of her handbag and handing it to him. “Email or call me. If you fancy it, my friend is organising my twenty-first birthday party next weekend. I don’t have all the details about what she’s planning, but I’ll give you her contact details and you’d be very welcome if you like.”
“Sure. That’d be great,” he said eagerly. “Good to meet you, Pip.”
“And you,” she replied, smiling. “Gotta go, see ya,” she called to him, looking back over her shoulder as she jumped off the metro.
***
“Here you go, sir.”
Jumal glanced up from his work as the file of papers landed heavily with a “thwack” on his desk next to his hand. For the last hour he’d been trying to concentrate on a new business proposition but failing miserably.
He sighed inwardly and pulled his chair closer to his desk, trying to hide his body’s inappropriate reaction to her, which was now annoyingly automatic. He reached for his glass of water on his desk simply to give him time to get control.
“What’s that?” he finally asked, his eyes focused back on his laptop.
“My summary of the Dubai government contract as you asked, sir.”
He looked up to meet her eyes and saw her gulp. Christ was he that scary? He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms and tilting his head.
He raised a brow at her. “You’ve done it? Already, after the night we had?” He didn’t bother to try to keep the surprise from his voice.
“Well, er yes. You said you wanted it done. So it’s done. I couldn’t sleep anyway.”
“You couldn’t sleep either huh?”
“What?” she gasped, clearly startled by his disclosure.
Recovering quickly from his slip, he straightened in his chair and cleared his throat. “Nothing. Okay well, I’ll have a read over this today. That’s all.”
Pip gave him a quick nod and walked or rather stormed back to her desk, no doubt pissed off at him now that he had the emotional barrier back in place and hadn’t even uttered a word of thanks for her efforts in completing the task so quickly. What an ungrateful bastard he was.
***
Pip slumped back down in her chair and began typing impatiently on her computer. She needed to file this feeling for the next time her heart when berserk when Jumal walked by her desk…
“You keep mumbling under your breath people are going to talk, sweetie,” Melina said across the desks.
“I hate him. Ungrateful bastard.”
“Ah right, well maybe I can brighten up your day. Reception called for you whilst you were in there. They have a package for you.”
“A package? But I’m not expecting anything—oooh maybe it’s a present for my birthday from Matt and Ana.” She smiled, pushing up excitedly from her desk.
“Maybe.” Melina smiled at her mischievously. Her friend knew something and wasn’t for telling.
Pip felt some trepidation as she stepped into the lift again; she fiddled with her blouse and straightened her skirt on her way down to reception, assuring herself that her luck couldn’t be so bad as to get stuck again. The engineers had assured her that the problem was fixed.
She let out a relieved sigh as she stepped out into the cool, sand-coloured marble-tiled reception area of Jumal’s elegant building and glanced up towards the cloudless sky, visible through the atrium, and offered a silent prayer of thanks.
Those prayers were quickly forgotten as she spotted Jake nervously pacing and swinging her lunch box. The man was no doubt uncomfortable under the snake-like gaze of the receptionist, also known as the office gossip.
She approached him but he hadn’t noticed her yet so she tapped him on the shoulder. “Jake.”
He spun around to face her, hitting her in the leg with the lunch box. “Oh. Shit I’m sorry!” he blurted out apologetically. “Er, hi. You forgot this in your rush this morning,” he said, thrusting the lunch box at her.
Oh good grief, there was no good way for that comment to be interpreted and news would likely spread around the office like wildfire that Pippa Darling had been with a man! She gently took hold of his arm and led him away from the reception area.
“Thanks, it’s sweet of you to bring it for me. I’m forever forgetting and losing things.” She rolled her eyes and smiled at him and decided that he was definitely cute in an all-American clean-cut boyish way—the polar opposite of Jumal.
“No problem.” She watched him shift his weight from side to side. “Actually, I wondered if you’d like to go and have a coffee with me?”
“Oh, erm, sure that would be lovely. There’s a nice café in the mezzanine near the waterfall; it will have some shade.” She took her lunch box from him and swung it as she walked past reception and called back over her shoulder, “Reeta, can you tell Melina that I’m taking an early lunch? Thanks.”
Oh well, she thought, in for a penny in for a pound.
***
The sparkling waters of the Gulf did nothing to lighten Jumal’s mood as he sat back in his chair, steepled his hands and tried to fight the growing unease settling in his stomach, having analysed Pippa’s review of the Dubai contract.
He’d gone over it again and again to try to allay his fears but without success. There was no getting around it. She’d messed up big time. The only question was whether it had been done deliberately and he found it abhorrent that he couldn’t trust his own judgement on this. Never before had he second-guessed his gut reaction to something but the fallout from this could be catastrophic for his business. He needed a second opinion.
“So,” he said, turning his chair to face Malik who had just finished reading. “Do you agree with me?”
Malik looked up from the papers and shook his head, his face giving away his disbelief.
“I just don’t know why she’d do it,” he said, clearly as shocked as Jumal had been on first reading Pippa’s report and cross-referencing the contract. “She couldn’t have missed it by mistake; it’s too obvious.”
He watched his friend run a hand roughly through his hair before throwing the report back on his desk and slumping back in his chair.
“She didn’t miss it,” he declared, confidently. “She knew it was there and didn’t bring it to my attention intentionally. She’s too good to miss it.” He spat out the last words.
“But Jumal, that’s industrial espionage or something. I mean she’s… she’s…”
“I know.”
“Just—” Jumal watched him shake his head again “—wow. So what are you going to do now? Are you going to call the board in?” Malik asked.
“No. I’ll deal with it myself. Privately,” he added to make sure Malik knew it was to go no further than his office.
Picking up his mobile phone, Jumal ran his fingers quickly over the numbers; waiting for it to connect, he sat back again in his chair, swinging back around to face the view.
“We need to talk… No it can’t. My office, now.”
***
“Jeez, Pip Squeak, you landed on your feet when you got this gig. My work experience was at a pig farm in Halifax. This is beautiful.” Pip smiled back over at James in total agreement and tucked her hair back around her ears, securing it under her baseball cap. Drop-tops were great unless you had long hair, but she loved the feeling of the cooling breeze rushing around her as she drove home along the coastal road from the airport. Of course, it had taken her a while to get used to driving on the wrong side of the road and she’d had occasional mishaps that no one needed to know about…
She smiled over at the friend she’d known for years since he’d become one of the partners at the village’s veterinary practice back home. He was slightly older than she was but they shared a wicked sense of humour and both excelled at teasing her brother mercilessly. It meant a lot to her that he’d taken some of his holiday time to come and visit with her. “I know, right. Wait till you see the pool and gym facilities at the club. You’ll be in heaven—not to mention our beaches,” she yelled, pointing over to her side where the surfers were already taking advantage of the crashing waves.
“Oh, by the way,” he said, leaning forward and rummaging in his rucksack, “here you go, as per your order.”
Pip squealed with delight at the package of sweeties he deposited in her lap.
“I love you, I love you,” she screamed and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Dubain has lots to offer but no good sweets or chocolate. Oh speaking of food,” she said, searching in her door pocket with one hand before glancing down.
“Hey, watch the road, you nutter,” he shouted, grabbing for the steering wheel.
“Here you go.” She handed him a small parcel wrapped in a napkin. “I thought you’d be hungry after the horrid plane food. It’s a local delicacy called fatayer. It’s like a meat pie. You’ll love it.”
He chuckled unwrapping it. “I already love it. A meat pie called fatayer. Ingenious.”
“So I was thinking we could hit the pool and have some fun before you have a little snooze, then we’ll head out to the party. I thought you’d appreciate a sleep after your flight,” she said whilst simultaneously trying to pop the top off her tube of Smarties.
“Sounds good to me,” he agreed, munching on his food, popping his sunglasses on and resting his head back on the headrest. “So where’s your party?” he continued, turning his head towards her, wiping his mouth with the napkin.
“A nightclub at one of the big hotels on the beach. My friend Melina has made all the arrangements. Speaking of whom—” She paused and looked over at James briefly, hoping the guilt wasn’t obvious on her face.
“What? What did you do, Pip?” he yelled, making his voice heard over the wind and crashing ocean and raising his sunglasses to the top of his head, presumably so she could see his suspicious glare.
She shrugged her shoulders. “Nothing much,” she mumbled, her mouth now full of Smarties. “Just helping to speed up the natural course of events. You’re only here for a couple of days and I know you two will like each other so—” she waved her arm in a knowing gesture “—I told her to meet us at the pool. She lives in the same apartment complex. How convenient is that, hey? It’s like fate or something,” she joked.
Once she saw James’s coy smile and slow shake of the head, she knew he wasn’t mad at her. He dropped his shades back down and propped his arm on the car’s door frame. Job done, she thought, pleased with herself. James and Melina would only have to set eyes on each other and bam, the chemistry would be there immediately, sparks would fly, no messing around. If only her own love life were so simple to fix…
Before James could ask any more questions, Pip turned on her iPod connected to the car’s stereo system. Not bothering to try to secure her once-again wayward hair, she sang along to Bob Marley.
She chose to ignore the rib from James about her singing not improving. Nothing could blight her good mood.
***
Jumal cursed as he simultaneously tried to rinse shampoo out of his eyes, fumble to shut off the shower and reach for his ringing mobile phone he’d set on a towel on the marbled vanity.
He managed to answer it, still blinded, before it went to answerphone. He held it in the crook of his neck whilst grabbing the towel to wrap around his hips and dabbing water in his eyes from the sink. Whoever said men couldn’t multitask hadn’t met him.
“Hey Malik, yeah.”
“Oh hey, yeah it’s me, erm, so you know you told me to keep an eye on Pip and call you if I thought you needed to be here for any reason whatsoever?”
“Yeah. Ow shit,” he cursed again. How the hell could this stuff sting so much?!
“Well. I think you should come on down.”
“Is she okay?” he asked, trying to keep calm. Christ what if she needed to get to a hospital or something? He could barely open his eyes.
“Yeah. She’s fine but put it this way: she could head straight to the beach and she’d still be underdressed and er, she’s getting quite a lot of attention.”
“What the hell does that mean? You know what, never mind. I’m on my way. Just don’t let her out of your sight,” he growled.
He ended the call, abruptly cutting off his friend in his rush to dress and get to Pippa.
***
“Where is she?”
Jumal followed Malik’s nod towards the packed dance floor. Jumal craned his neck and shielded his eyes from the glare and dazzle of the disco lights but was still not able to see her.
Suddenly, the crowds parted like the Red Sea.
“Holy mother of Allah. Is that…?”
“Yep,” Malik acknowledged loudly before throwing back the shot he was nursing.
“Why the hell didn’t you call me sooner?” he challenged whilst tracking Pippa’s stroll towards them.
“Hey, Jumal, you came!” she yelled at him over the bass of the music before turning her attention from him. “Malik, you ready to dance with me yet? You promised.” She popped her hip and pouted.
Jumal didn’t move his eyes from Pippa as he placed a restraining hand on his friends arm, knowing his friend would understand his message loud and clear. Malik cleared his throat. “Right well erm, I think I’ll go and get us a drink,” he said motioning his thumb behind his shoulder towards the bar. “Save me a dance for later, birthday girl.”
Jumal thought he caught Malik saying something along the lines of him needing luck as he walked past him to the bar.
“Brilliant fancy dress, Jumal,” she teased. “You’ve got the whole ‘tight-arsed, control freak, big boss man slash relaxed Friday night combo’ down to a tee.” He watched tight-lipped as she waved her hand judgementally as his clothes.
He scowled at her. “And what the hell have you come as? A Victoria’s Secret model?” He inwardly winced. He hadn’t intended for his voice to be quite so aggressive.
“Humph, isn’t it obvious? I’m Halle Berry from the James Bond film and James—” she turned and waved her arm randomly towards the dance floor “—has come as the man himself, although to be honest he didn’t have to make much of an effort, just put on a tux—handsome devil that he is. And,” she went on, “can you believe that he wouldn’t let me strap my diver’s knife to my thigh? Anyway,” she continued, as she punched his arm in what he presumed was supposed to be a friendly way but had a surprising amount of force to it, “get you, knowing about VS. There may just be hope for you yet.” She winked at him.
“So what do you think?” she asked, as she gave him a twirl. “I pretty much nailed it, didn’t I? Well apart from the hair,” she said as she flicked the ends of her hair dismissively over her shoulder. “Couldn’t do much about that with this mop, but my second attempt at applying a fake tan was much more successful. Don’t you think? Jumal?”
“Huh, what?” Crap he’d been caught ogling. Again. “Come on, I think it’s time I took you home,” he told her, holding out his hand.
“What?” she shrieked at him and he automatically dropped his hand. “Are you kidding? It’s my birthday, well my party anyway and I’m not ready to go home, not for a long time.” He knew it wasn’t her birthday for a few days yet. She surprised him by taking hold of his hand and gently urging him forward. “Come and dance with me and then you can keep a proper eye on me like I know my brother told you to.”
Jumal was pleased that she was making her own assumptions about his turning up at her birthday party. For once, it worked in his favour.
“I don’t dance,” he said sharply, shaking his head.
She dropped her hand from his and strangely he missed the comforting contact. He wasn’t a “hand-holding” kind of person, even with his family or Faridah. “You’re kidding?” She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head to the side. God she was beautifully annoying.
“As you have told me on numerous occasions, I don’t have a sense of humour when it comes to you,” he replied, straight-faced.
“Fine, you can just stand like a sulking Muppet and I’ll dance around you like a bloody maypole.” And she was off again, twirling around him whilst holding his shoulders as he kept his focus straight ahead, fighting the need and desire to track her every movement.
“A what?” he asked, when she finally came to a stop.
“Oh never mind.” She sulked again with her hands on her hips. Was she aware that the action caused her perfectly sized breasts to jut out even further? “It’s just as I thought,” she ranted at him.
“What is?” he asked, impatiently. The girl spoke in riddles.
“You’re too old to have fun. You act like an old fart. I can’t believe that I—” she waved her arms dismissively at him “—never mind. Your loss.” And with that she was off, leaving him standing there in the wake of Hurricane Halle, his mouth hanging open like a fish—or to use her earlier phrase, a Muppet.
He tracked her movements again as she laughed and joked with her friends at their table and finished off a long dark drink before she made her way back to the dance floor.
“She didn’t manage to get you dancing then?” Malik enquired as he handed him another beer and took up position at his side.
“Not a chance,” he replied, taking a long swig. He surveyed Malik and shook his head. “So what the hell have you come as and why didn’t you tell me it was fancy dress?”
“Me? Well I’m the American President.”
Jumal looked him up and down and gave him a puzzled look. “Which one?” he asked.
“Any. See, I’m wearing the little stars-and-stripes pin on my suit jacket.” He turned to show him the pin.
Jumal couldn’t help but chuckle. “That has got to be the worst fancy dress I have ever seen,” he teased, smiling.
“Hey, I have a slave driver for a boss and I was at work till late on a deal that’s going to get him in next year’s Forbes richest list. This was the best I could come up with. I thought it was inspired when I saw the pin in my desk drawer. Melina brought it back from her trip to New York last year. And I did try to tell you it was fancy dress but you hung up on me cursing, so—”
Their heads turned in unison towards the shrieks of delight coming from the dance floor as someone appeared to be trying their hand at breakdancing. Jumal had never understood the appeal of spinning on one’s head but then again, as Miss Darling had so eloquently put it, he was an old fart…and right now, yeah, he felt like one.
