Читать книгу His Irresistible Darling - Sarah Randall - Страница 9

Chapter Two

“Here you go.”

Pip yelped and jumped in surprise as the large file of papers landed squarely on her desk and scattered her yellow paper notes. She shot a glance up at Jumal’s dark eyes. “Some light bedtime reading. Enough to keep even you out of trouble.”

“What is it?” she asked, looking back briefly at the ominous large file.

“The Dubai contract. Faridah dropped it in earlier and she’ll be contacting you tomorrow to set up the meetings.”

“Joy,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Sorry, what was that?” Jumal pressed.

“Nothing,” she replied, waving her hand dismissively. “So what do you need me to do?”

He paused briefly as if considering his next words. “I want a summary of the salient points on my desk tomorrow morning.”

Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t stop her mouth from dropping open goldfish style as she discreetly tried to glance at her watch. It was already ten o’clock at night.

“Wha—” She shut her mouth—even she knew when to quit and this was clearly punishment for her earlier joke. The man obviously had no sense of humour. In fact, come to think of it, she hadn’t even seen him crack a smile with a colleague in the few months she’d been here. He was so serious—a prime candidate for a stress-induced heart attack.

“Fine,” she said, putting her hands up as she accepted defeat. “I always struggle to get to sleep. This is just the ticket.”

“Good. You ready to go home? I think we’ve worked late enough. Looks like we’re the last ones here,” he noticed, glancing around the empty office. “I’ll drop you at home on the way.”

“Oh, don’t put yourself out,” she mumbled not even trying to hide her sarcasm but then winced at his ice-cold stare.

“Okay, okay, thanks,” she conceded shutting down her laptop.

“Here.” She was startled as Jumal took hold of her jacket and held it open for her arms. She quickly grabbed her bag and the file.

“Lead on, chauffeur,” she added, mischievously.

He simply shook his head at her and headed over to the lifts to press the call button. She finally joined him, muttering under her breath about his lack of a sense of humour but trying to keep her distance and stare down at the floor. Hmm, funny she’d never really noticed the colour of the flooring before and she’d never been more grateful for the soft ping announcing the arrival of the lift.

“After you,” Jumal said, standing back and holding out his arm before following her in and pressing the button for the underground car park.

Pip huddled up against the mirrored wall at the back of the lift and took a deep breath. She hated lifts—hated being enclosed anywhere she couldn’t easily get out of but especially when said enclosed coffin was fifty floors up.

“Are you okay?”

She looked up at Jumal’s question, momentarily surprised by his concern.

“Yeah. I just don’t like small, enclosed places. Childhood trauma caused entirely by your friend aka my brother.” She dropped her head to stare again at the floor.

“Why, what—?” Jumal’s query was suddenly interrupted by the lift plunging into darkness and coming to an abrupt halt.

“Jumal!?” She couldn’t hide the distress from her voice as she fumbled in the dark and dropped her bag and the file to the floor; her hands reached out desperately towards him.

She suddenly felt his hand clasp hers and pull her body towards him.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re fine. The emergency lighting will—ah, there you go. See?” he assured her as the dim overhead emergency lighting came on.

“Look at me,” he demanded, still holding one of her hands and reaching for her chin with his other, gently raising it to meet his eyes.

“Really, we’re fine. They’ll have us out of here in no time,” he said, clearly trying to calm his hysterical employee and rubbing her hand, which she knew was shaking.

She nodded but couldn’t speak or bring herself to let go of his hand as he reached over with his other hand to push the emergency contact button on the brass panel. She looked down at his hand holding hers; she’d never touched his hand so intimately and was surprised at the hard feel of his hands. Where would a man who spent his life in offices and meetings manage to get calluses?

A few moments later a male voice acknowledged their call and assured them that the engineer would be dispatched immediately.

“I guess we wait then.” Her voice still trembled slightly.

“Hmm, better make ourselves comfortable.”

She gulped as he dropped her hand and pulled off his suit jacket to spread it out onto the floor and gestured for her to sit.

He joined her on the floor of the lift and rolled up his sleeves, revealing his tanned, toned forearms and a vintage watch with a black alligator leather strap.

She’d often wondered how he managed to have such a trim, highly toned body. Even through his custom-made designer suits she couldn’t help but notice his fine physique. No woman could and she’d been aware of it since she was twelve and hormones had flooded her body. But Jumal always seemed to be at work, never taking much time off save for his passion for riding his horses and horse racing. Surely you couldn’t get a body like his from just riding horses? Did that have something to do with the calluses on his hands?

Good, she decided, this was a great distraction—thinking about his magnificent body stopped her from focusing on how completely freaked out she was being stuck in here. In this dark, windowless coffin. She swallowed again nervously and shook her head to clear her thoughts. On the downside it was making her rather hot and bothered and she was already starting to notice how warm the small, enclosed space was getting before thinking about her boss.

Oh crap, how long would the air last?

Her dive into a full-blown panic attack was postponed as she became acutely aware that Jumal’s forearm was now brushing up against hers. Had she ever been more aware of another person’s body innocently touching hers and causing shivers? If she had she couldn’t recall and damn it but he was most likely completely unaware of the effect he was having on her—unless of course he could hear how fast her heart was suddenly racing…

“How are you?” he asked, nudging her arm gently.

She blushed and answered somewhat unconvincingly, “What, oh er yeah I’ll be fine.” As soon as I stop thinking about your hot bod.

***

He wasn’t fooled by her response. He knew she was distressed and needed a distraction.

“So what did Matt do to you exactly?” Hmm, he chastised himself silently, great distraction there, Jumal—make her talk about the reason she’s claustrophobic—genius. You should think about running your own international company.

“We were playing hide-and-seek—or rather I’d nagged him to play with me and he eventually gave up and told me to go and hide. I had the perfect spot all picked out in the attic, an old wardrobe that hadn’t been used for years. You know, like something from The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe; anyway he knew exactly where I’d gone and locked me in using a brush through the handles. I screamed for him to let me out but he’d gotten distracted when some girl had called round for him and he went out. Forgot about me. It was hours before they finally found me.” She rubbed her arms in comfort.

“How old were you?” he asked.

“Five.”

“Jesus.” He clenched his fists at his sides.

She offered a tight-lipped smile and tsked. “Well you can imagine how that went down. I know he meant to let me out after a while. He was so upset but since then…” she paused and he sensed a cold shiver reverberate through her body “…I’ve never liked confined spaces, but fifty floors up is fifty floors up and I’m not that much of a fitness freak so…” He felt her shrug her shoulders.

Jumal quickly calculated that Matt would have been about eighteen. The same age as you’d have been, he reminded himself needlessly. Next time he saw his friend, he’d have a thing or two to tell the fool, but she interrupted his thoughts.

She chuckled softly and he glanced over to watch her face. “You should have seen Mrs H chasing him around the house with her broomstick. It was hilarious and I’m sure she only did it to make me giggle. The woman was a lot faster on her feet back then, nearly caught him a couple of times.” She chuckled again to herself, no doubt at the memory. “He made it up to me though—took me out for ice cream and let me buy a toy I wanted.”

He let his head fall back against the wall. “No change there then,” he joked.

“Hey,” she said nudging him back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh nothing,” he said turning his head again to meet hers. “Just that he still adores you and you have him wrapped around your little finger. You and Ana now. Poor misguided fool.”

She shrugged her shoulders innocently. “What can I say?” A cheeky smile adorned her face. “I’m adorable and he clearly loves being wrapped around Ana,” she said, wiggling her brows comically.

Jumal tipped his head back against the wall and looked up at the ceiling. You certainly are, he thought.

“I’ve heard a lot about Mrs Henderson from Matt over the years, met her a couple of times but just briefly. She sounds quite a formidable woman and not someone to have as an enemy.”

Pippa let out a short laugh. “You got that right. I’m sure the best way to sort out any warring factions around the world would be to send her in with a plate of her home-made scones. She’d either bang their heads together until they saw sense or feed them so much they wouldn’t remember what they were arguing about.” She shifted around, presumably trying to get comfortable. “So do you like being an only child?” she asked changing the subject.

“Sure, there was no one to argue with and I was spoilt by my mother but, on the other hand, being the only son of a sheik comes with certain expectations and responsibilities. It might have been nice to share the burden of expectation with a brother but my mother didn’t get pregnant again. So it was always just me.”

And his father had never let him forget the burden of carrying on his family tradition.

“Are you talking about carrying on the family name?” she pressed.

“Not just that, although that’s certainly a major factor,” he admitted tilting his head slightly. “It’s just that it would have been good to have had the option of doing something else with my life—you know, it was always expected that I would be a business entrepreneur, have social standing in our community and take on the title of sheik. I had to fight tooth and nail to keep my interest in horse breeding and racing alive when I was younger. Plus, I kind of felt the pressure to make them proud, seeing as though I was their only child. I carried around a lot of pressure from expectation growing up. I didn’t really have much of what you would call a normal childhood.”

Important decisions about his future such as his education had been made for him by his father, without recourse to him. It was the way it had always been. Jumal’s pleas to stay in the Middle East and attend the same further education establishments as Malik fell on deaf ears. It was simply good fortune that his father’s unilateral decision to send his only son off to England at the age of eighteen for his university education had worked out so well. Jumal had made lifelong friends and finally asserted some degree of independence before the demand for his return to Dubain was issued. Of course that friendship with Matt had led to him meeting Pippa, which had led to his life being turned upside down…

***

Pip had never heard him speak so openly or frankly, and she was intrigued to hear so much about his personal life and decided to press the advantage. A full account of his prolific business achievements could be easily accessed on the Internet but his private life—nada. The little she did know about him had come via her brother who seemed keen to respect and guard his friend’s privacy.

“Still, I bet your parents are proud of you,” she pushed on. “When I spoke to your mother a few weeks ago she was gushing about your future bride and you giving her grandchildren.” A particular conversation that had made her nauseous and want to smash the phone handset on the desk at the same time.

Jumal reached out and grabbed hold of her forearm. “She said that?” But he quickly dropped his grip, no doubt having noticed her startled expression.

“Hmm-hm,” she replied, still shocked by the contact as he dropped his head and brushed imaginary lint from his suit trousers. She subconsciously ran her hand over where he’d just touched her. Other than a polite handshake here and there, this was the first time that he had ever really touched her…

“So tell me more about your role as a sheik. It’s fascinating and so different from anything in my country.”

“Hm, well it’s varied and actually, thinking about it, it’s not too dissimilar to your Mrs H acting as confidante and peacemaker or mediator back in your own Yorkshire village. On a practical level, which is where I prefer to focus, I give advice to the elders on business trading, the economy and how we can make sure that Dubain continues to thrive and develop for the benefit of all our people.” He crossed his ankles before continuing, “Much as it pains me to say, my father was actually quite unique in passing over the title to me whilst he was still alive. Usually, sheiks hold on to the position until their death, unwilling to give up the power even if they are hospital-bound and senile.”

“You don’t get on with your father?” It was a statement but she phrased it as a question, still spurred on for more information from him.

“No. But I don’t want to talk any more about him. Anyway, there’s still plenty of work to do but we’re getting there slowly and the foundations have been laid for Dubain’s future. We’ve come a long way from a small shack as our airport and one hotel to what we’ve got now.”

She tried to hide the disappointment at his decision to put the barriers back up. “Yeah, you can say that again. I saw the framed pictures at the airport when I was waiting to get through passport control. It’s amazing to see the pictures when this was all just desert with small tent villages and fantastic beaches. I can’t believe how much you’ve already achieved in just ten years or so.”

“The villagers are called Bedouins and there are still a few in the desert a couple of hours north of here. When I go there it’s like stepping back in time. The pace of life is slower and their priorities are so different; family is everything. There, you can just draw breath and relax.”

“Doesn’t it all get too much? I mean your work here and then being pulled all over to sort other things out as sheik?”

“No. I find it relaxing. It helps me focus my mind on what I’m trying to achieve for Dubain. We have an increasingly young working population choosing to stay here and raise families now that we can provide work in the shipbuilding yards and ancillary companies—rather than leaving for the usual ports of Dubai or Qatar—and we need to make sure we provide them with a progressive country.” Pip was enthralled as he spoke with such passion. “But I don’t want to achieve it at the cost of our history and tradition. Did you know that the archaeologists have discovered over twenty sites on the island dating back to the late Stone Age?” he asked rhetorically. “We can have both and I’ve put plans in motion to make sure we do.”

“You put so much pressure on yourself, Jumal,” she said quietly.

She watched closely as he dropped his eyes and replied quite as a matter of fact, “It’s all I’ve ever known.”

She felt the need to lighten the mood. “So do you have the costume?”

As she’d hoped, his eyes darted up and she saw the glint of amusement she’d hoped for. “Costume? I take it you mean my dress robes. They’re called dishdash, Pip, and yes, I have them,” he confirmed but at her chuckle he asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Oh nothing, you reminded me of my brother just then. ‘It’s not a baby horse, Pip. It’s called a foal.’ ” she imitated, and pretty well judging by his chuckle. “So, can I see them sometime?”

At his shocked expression she quickly clarified. “I mean, you should wear them for work sometime. Not that I was going to—oh never mind.” She felt her cheeks redden.

“I was very sorry to hear about your parents’ deaths,” he said grimly, bowing his head. “I spoke to Matt at the time but I couldn’t get back for their funerals. They were both lovely people.” Okay, seemed he’d had enough of talking about himself—damn it. Still, she thought she knew a little more about the elusive man who’d been her boss for the last few months and would remain so until June and the end of her final academic year.

She bit her lip. “Thanks,” she mumbled. “I miss them both very much,” she swallowed and bit her lip again to make sure tears weren’t going to fall this time. “Sometimes,” she continued, “I still wake up in the morning and I know there’s something bad hanging over me that I’ve forgotten, you know, something just on the tip that you can’t quite remember—did I drink too much last night? Did I lock my car up? Did I turn off the cooker?” She took a deep breath. “And then it hits me again; they aren’t here any more. It’s horrible.” Her voice was now barely a whisper. “I was in the central bazaar the other day, you know the one I mean?” She checked and at his nod she continued, “Well, I was just mooching around, taking it all in: the smells of the spices, fruit and vegetables, the hustle and bustle, the crazy bartering, and I actually got my phone out to call my mum to share it with her.” Her voice cracked and he caught the shimmer of unfallen tears in her eyes before she swallowed deeply. “She used to love it when I called her whenever I was off travelling because I just had to tell her what I was seeing—let her experience it with me too. She loved that,” she added in a low voice as she sniffed and quickly turned her head to the side to swipe away the traitorous tears that had escaped.

***

Jumal clenched his fists to stop himself from reaching out and pulling her to his body, stroking his hand over her hair as he held her to his chest and comforted her.

He’d witnessed the colour drain from her cheeks as grief swamped her eyes before she tried composed herself. His stomach dropped like they’d hurtled straight down the fifty floors below them and he chastised himself again. He hadn’t meant to make her unhappy. In fact, he thought, raking through their recent interactions, he didn’t think he’d ever seen her unhappy. Teasing, sarcastic, cheerful, infuriating in buckets—but sorrowful? No. Pippa’s whole approach to life and the world generally was completely uninhibited and happy-go-lucky and when she loved, even in the brief time he’d gotten to know her, it seemed to him entirely unreserved and all-encompassing. She was fiercely protective of her family and close friends. Jumal hadn’t been able to comprehend her desire to make herself so vulnerable.

“I guess I really shouldn’t complain about the fact that my father isn’t happy unless he, and my mother to a lesser degree, are trying to interfere and control my life; at least I still have them,” he acknowledged begrudgingly.

He watched her fidget with her skirt from his partially closed eyes, pleased that her tears had stopped falling. She was breaking his heart.

“So can I ask you something? Personal?” she asked from under her dark, wet, spiked lashes.

“I’m intrigued. Go ahead and I’ll decide whether to answer it,” he said, pleased to see the colour had returned to her cheeks.

“You and Faridah.” She shrugged her shoulders and he raised an eyebrow at her before she continued, “What gives? I mean, that was one hell of a quick engagement. Last December you were carefree and single but now… Oh shit!” she shouted, grabbing his arm, her hand flying to cover her mouth. “She’s not knocked up already is she?!”

“No,” he said, removing her hand from his arm. “She most certainly is not,” he corrected sternly. “I’m offended by the fact you’d think I’d be so careless.” If only she knew that she was the main reason behind his out-of-the-blue engagement. “Our families go way back and it was a mutually convenient and beneficial arrangement. Simple as that.”

She stared blankly at him over the top of her glasses before repeating his words back to him slowly, “A mutually convenient and beneficial arrangement?” She shook her head. “Wowzer, Jumal. I didn’t know you were such a romantic. She’s such a lucky girl,” she said sardonically before adding, “I almost feel sorry for her—almost.”

“I can assure you that such arrangements are still perfectly normal and acceptable in my country,” he responded curtly, unsettled by the strange need he had to justify or explain himself, which was not something he did. Ever.

“Well each to their own I suppose.” She let out a quick sigh. “How long have we been in here now?” she asked, tapping her fingers on the floor. “God I’m glad I went to the loo shortly before we left.”

He glanced down at his watch. “Just over an hour. I’m sure it won’t be much longer.”

She reached into her lunch box and took out her uneaten apple and her bottle of water.

She looked up and met his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Now aren’t you glad I was a Girl Guide: always prepared as the saying goes.”

She smiled and took a bite before offering it to him. “Go ahead,” she encouraged.

“No thank you. You eat it. I won’t take it from you,” he said, but his stomach growled in eager response.

“Well your traitorous tummy says you want some, so we’ll share. It could be a while before we get out of here and I promise I don’t carry any nasty germs. I’ve had all my shots. Just one of the perks of having a brother who owns a horse stud farm and a friend who’s a vet.”

He nodded in concession and took hold of the apple and bit into it.

***

Pip was mesmerised as he licked his lips to catch the juice before handing it back to her. She mentally shook herself and took hold of the apple. They finished it off in quick time, passing it back and forth before sharing the water. When the hell did sharing an apple ever become a sensual activity?

He raised a brow in interest. “Have you got anything else in that magic box of yours? Perhaps a bottle of champagne and some caviar?” he asked playfully, nodding towards her bag.

“M&M’s and some Smarties.”

“Bring ‘em on out then,” he said motioning with his hand. “May as well work our way through them and into a diabetic coma. You have a sweet tooth, Miss Darling.”

“One that you should be eternally grateful for—” she held the sweets back in her hand dramatically “—and I am only sharing if I get all the orange Smarties.”

“What’s the difference? They all taste the same, don’t they?” he asked, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

“They do not,” she admonished, shaking her head in outrage.

She proceeded to divide out the sweets between them. “Open wide,” she told him and popped an orange Smartie in as he quickly complied. She blushed as her fingers accidentally touched his lips.

She watched him closely as he mulled over the taste like a sommelier in the posh restaurants he no doubt frequented. “So they do,” he admitted quietly a few seconds later.

“So maybe next time you’ll believe me when I tell you something,” she said, inclining her head, “and stop treating me like a clueless adolescent.”

“Maybe I will, Miss Darling.”

***

“God it’s getting hot in here,” Pip complained as she stood up to strip off her cardigan and threw it down next to the jacket and shoes she’d stripped off long ago. “They said they’d have us out of here shortly and that was over two hours ago.” She suddenly dropped down on her haunches and grabbed at his arm. “Do you think there’s something wrong that they aren’t telling us?” she asked anxiously. “Like in that film.”

“No.” Jumal had closed eyes and was concentrating hard on not looking at her body and pondering just how many clothes she planned to strip off. She was now only sporting a tight pencil skirt, which in no way outlined the perfect shape of her backside, and a vest top with tiny straps. And her perfume was once again driving him wild in such close confinement. What the hell was it? He started to feel sorry for those idiotic dogs in the neighbourhood who ran around desperately with their tongues hanging out when a lady dog was in season!

He jerked his eyes open when Pip began to pace and sing a song again.

“Please Allah, no more singing, Pippa. I beg you.”

She feigned offence and gasped. “I’m bored and hot and did I mention—I’m bored!?” she shouted, frustrated. “How can you be so calm?” she threw at him, plonking herself back on the floor, directly opposite him, their legs lying next to each other.

“Yes,” he said calmly. “I do believe you may have mentioned that you are bored once or twice.” He watched her through narrowed eyes as she fidgeted, strummed her fingers on the floor either side of her hips and puffed out a breath, blowing her fringe off her forehead. He’d noticed she did it often. He really shouldn’t be noticing her charming little quirks.

“So, I never asked how you managed to convince your university to allow you to do your gap year at the end of your course. Isn’t it supposed to be in the third year?” he asked, keen to distract her from the singing.

“Well, after what happened with my parents I wasn’t really in the right state of mind to go away and work in industry for my third year. Matt and I spoke to my course administrator and they agreed that I could spend my third year earning enough credits and doing my dissertation and roll over my placement to the final year.” She took a deep breath. “I just needed to be at home and thankfully they agreed as I had good grades.”

“Hmm.” He nodded in understanding. “And have you any idea what you want to do after you finish your degree?”

“Some ideas yeah.” She pursed her lips and cocked her head to one side. “Ana has asked me to work with her and her business partner in their growing fashion empire. They want me to do their marketing and PR but—” She paused and shrugged her shoulders.

“What?” He inclined his head to try to catch the look in her eyes, which were always so expressive.

“Well, I know I should be grateful and all. I mean so many graduates struggle to get jobs but, well, I guess I just want to make my own mark, you know?” She shrugged again as she finally met his eyes but looked away too quickly. “I mean the job would be perfect for me but I’d always feel that I was only successful in getting it because of Ana and Matt. That’s not what I want.” She fidgeted again and curled her legs up under her body.

“I can understand that perfectly,” he said in agreement.

“You can?” she asked and offered him an appreciative smile; his heartbeat quickened and something odd flipped in his stomach, which had nothing to do with his hunger pangs.

“Sure. It’s admirable and if I had my time over I’d like to do something different.”

“Really?” she asked raising a brow and leaning forward slightly. “But you’re amazing at running your business.”

He smirked at her. “Careful, Miss Darling, you are in danger of giving me praise.”

“Well, you’re only amazing due to the exceptional quality of your PA, of course,” she jibed, returning the grin and sitting back.

“Ah yes, right, of course.” He nodded and stared down at his hands. “And I believe I have you to thank for the beautiful and no doubt expensive gift that I sent to Mr and Mrs Ansari congratulating them on their fiftieth wedding anniversary?”

“Oh. It’s okay, you already thanked me,” she said, waving her hands dismissively at him.

“I did?” he asked, confused, taking a sip from the bottle of water.

“Well, your friendly black AMEX did to be precise. The sales assistant in the lingerie shop managed to convince me to go for the new Booster Bra but I’m not so sure it works,” she mused, peering down her top. Jumal choked on his water; for a second he thought she was about to show him! Bloody hell, it was getting hot in here. He coughed again, trying to clear his throat, and caught her wry smile at him. He could never tell when she was joking.

He watched her root around in her bag, almost afraid to ask. “What’s that?”

“A stress ball. For when I’m stressed,” she replied, squeezing it. “Like now.”

Jumal winced and crossed his legs at his ankles as he observed her continually crush and release the ball in her petite hands. He could almost pity the poor man she eventually married, yet that very thought also made him want to punch the glass. He struggled to understand the dichotomy of his reactions to Miss Darling.

“So did you have a good meeting with Mr Ansari today?” She interrupted his dangerous thoughts.

“Yes it was very productive, once he stopped gushing about you and the present I sent. He has a good company and is very keen to work with us on the Dubai deal. He can supply over seventy per cent of the metal materials we’re going to need and he has excellent connections. Did you know his daughter recently married Daniel Vincini?”

“Yes, I read the gossip magazines, and you also sent them a very thoughtful gift with warm wishes for their future happiness,” she quoted.

The Vincini family were the Italian family in Sicily and ran a very successful private luxury cruise company. Their elegant and exclusive ships were regular visitors in the fashionable ports around the Mediterranean. Despite being dwarfed by the city-sized cruise liners, the Vincini ships managed to hold their own and set themselves apart with a legion of faithful followers.

“Ah right, that makes sense now,” he said, nodding. “Mr Ansari was also gushing about the wonderful painting his daughter and new son-in-law had received. I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about but assumed it was down to you. Thank you.” He bowed his head in concession. “Again.”

***

Wow, actual praise from Jumal; she thought about asking him to say that again so she could record it on her phone.

“It’s what you pay me the big bucks for, right?” she said, grinning at him. In reality, the terms of her placement from Leeds university meant that she wasn’t to be paid for her time with JAA Enterprises, but her expenses could be met and Jumal had paid for the rental of a luxury apartment for her in an exclusive gated community with a membership to the gym and spa; he’d also leased her a cute, nippy convertible, which she loved. She’d briefly tried to say “no” to Jumal’s offers; she had her own money from her inheritance and share of the family business. But she quickly realised that you never said “no” to Jumal Aldabbagh.

“And the plans and arrangements for the polo match, how are they coming along?”

“Great thanks. I’ve got some fab prizes for the auction. Your friends are very generous, even your nemesis. You know the cheeky sod had the nerve to try to get me to go out on a date with him in return for his donation,” she said, her eyes wide as she shook her head. “I think he’s still holding a grudge from that beating your team gave his last time. He doesn’t seem to be a very good loser. I swear even his horse looked pissed off.” She laughed but quickly stopped as she noticed Jumal’s cool stare and tight lips.

“Jumal? You okkaayy?”

“Huh? Oh sorry. I was just distracted by er, something—er so yeah Yves is extremely competitive, always has been, no matter what sport we were playing, and he takes his position as captain of his polo team very seriously. He takes everything personally,” he mused with a shake of the head.

“Well, the caterers, venue and entertainment people are all happy with the arrangements so I’m sure it will be a huge success for the charity.” She paused before continuing, “So, will Faridah be joining you?” She was going for nonchalant but not entirely sure if she’d succeeded.

“No,” he answered abruptly.

Okkaayy—was there trouble in paradise or was it just wishful thinking on her part?! “Oh well, not to worry. I’ll be there to cheer your team on,” she said, happily clapping her hands together but quickly dropped them to the floor. “Hey, what’s that look for?” she challenged at the scowl on his face.

***

Jumal was still trying to recover from his fury following Pip’s disclosure about that suave bastard Yves. He’d save his revenge for the polo pitch…

“Well…” He paused choosing his words carefully so as not to upset her too much when they were in such close confines. “Will you at least try to moderate your, er…exuberance this time? Some of the more elderly ladies were quite shocked when you pulled that wooden rattle out of your handbag and started swinging it around like a lasso, making that racket!” He remembered having to fend off many complaints from the pompous polo membership after her last attendance. He’d only just managed to convince them not to forbid her further attendance.

She threw her hands in the air, exasperated. “So what was I supposed to do, just clap? BORING! Your team had just scored a last-minute goal, winning the match, and Yves’s face was a picture!” She grinned, most likely at the memory.

“Clap, yes, that’s exactly what’s in order. No screaming,” he lectured, as he counted each one off on his fingers, “no yelling obscenities at the other team—” he ignored her widening smile as she was clearly recollecting her behaviour at the last match “—no whistling or—” he paused again “—flashing any parts of your body.” He pursed his lips.

He saw her smile fade as she crossed her arms tightly under her chest, sulking. Unfortunately for him the action only served to push her pert breasts further into fleshy mounds barely contained by her Booster Bra… Was that black lace peeping out?!

He had to force his eyes away from her porcelain skin.

“Fine,” she said, her eyes wide, hands now held up in mock surrender. “I’ll be as dull as the rest of them. Best behaviour. Promise,” she said, crossing her heart with her fingers.

Jumal felt like he was caging a wild bird or like a parent berating his child. He hated the reminder of the thirteen-year age difference between them. He didn’t like it. Not one bit.

Despite her promise, he didn’t believe she could restrain herself. Not because she didn’t intend to, but it simply wasn’t in her nature. It wasn’t Pippa.

He needed to lighten her mood again and he was shocked by this newly developed inner need to put a smile back on her face.

“So, are you excited about your birthday party?” he asked, confident that would bring a smile to her angelic face with its perfect translucent skin. Although he thought she’d gained a few more freckles over her nose and cheeks… He pondered how he’d noticed…huh.

He was pleased that his plan had worked as she looked up and smiled. “Yep. James is flying in from home, so it’ll be lovely to see him again and Melina is sorting it all out.”

An ache in his jaw was the telltale sign that he was grinding his teeth. Who the hell was James and what was his interest in Pippa? Why was she smiling at the mention of this man’s name and, more importantly, what was her interest in him? The guy must be pretty serious about her to fly out all this way. The bloody woman attracted men like bees to a honey pot. He finally managed to tune back into what she was saying.

“She’s such a star. I just wish Matt and Ana could’ve made it—” she shrugged her shoulders “—but with Harry being so young and all it’s just impossible.”

The engineer’s voice stopped him from making further enquiries about this James imposter.

“Hello there, we’re really sorry for the delay but we’ve sorted the problem now so it will just be another five minutes and we’ll have you out, Mr Aldabbagh.”

True to his word, the main light came on in the lift at the same time it started to descend. He quickly jumped up and helped Pippa to her feet and held her jacket out for her again. She in turn picked up his suit jacket and brushed it off before handing it back to him as the doors finally opened. He heard her take a deep breath as she turned to him. “Thanks for keeping me calm in there. I know I was a pain but you really helped.” She pursed her lips. “So, er…just thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I enjoyed your company.”

He had to smile as Pippa nudged his shoulder with hers, a huge smile on her face. “Yeah right.” She chuckled. “You’re such a bad liar. I know you came close to smothering me in the lift with the stress ball.”

***

Jumal opened his car door for her before striding round to the driver’s side and speeding out of the underground car park, anxious to get Pippa home and out of his car. He could smell her scent on his jacket and knew that it was going to linger in his car for the next few days and drive him crazy. Correction: crazier. He’d have to have it valeted again despite the fact it was spotless.

She looked over at him with a quizzical look on her face as they sped through the deserted city streets and out to the low-rise buildings of the suburbs. “What?” he asked.

“You know the way to where I live?” she asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

“Of course,” he replied, like it was obvious that he’d know where all his employees lived. “I went to see it before I rented it for you. I had to make sure it was appropriate.” He shrugged his shoulders, dismissing her question, but hoped she’d just accept his response and assume that his role as boss meant that he’d know where all his staff lived…right?

But he caught her still staring at him from the corner of his eye, seemingly unconvinced by his response. “What?” he asked again, turning his head towards her briefly.

“Nothing,” she said, turning her head back to the front. “I just assumed someone else had sorted it all out. That’s all.” Her voice was quiet and he could barely hear her over the throb of the car’s powerful engine.

Ten minutes later he waved at the gate guard, who clearly recognised him, and pulled up in front of her apartment complex. He jumped out to open her door, offered his hand to help her out with her bag and file and escorted her to the steps of her apartment before stopping and turning to face her, pocketing his hands. “Goodnight, Pippa.”

“Night, sir.” He watched her take the final steps up to her front door but she abruptly turned back and shouted, “Jumal.” She seemed surprised that he hadn’t yet moved away. “Oh, er by the way, thanks for the job, er I mean placement. I know you did it as a favour to Matt, but thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, bowing his head slightly before adding in a lower voice, “but I didn’t do it as a favour to your brother.” My reasons were much more selfish, he silently added as he turned away, sensing her eyes on him from her porch.