His Irresistible Darling (11 page)

Feeling the need to release some of his pent-up aggression he called Malik next. “I feel the need to punch something—hard. Fancy keeping me company? Great. See you there in twenty.”

***

Jumal pummelled the punchbag with quick jabs, moving his feet lightly as Malik struggled to maintain his hold on it under the force of the repetitive, bone-jarring impacts. They’d drawn the attention of the men sparring in the rings. Eventually he felt the lactic acid build up in his muscles; his legs were getting sloppy and loose and the need for him to cause grievous bodily harm to Pippa’s new American friend had waned.
Somewhat.

“Feel better?” Malik inquired, rubbing at his own chest.

Jumal collapsed down onto a nearby wooden bench, pulling off the gloves and using his teeth to tear at the boxing gauze wrapped around his hands. Freed, he wiped at the sweat dripping from his brow into his eyes with his towel and hung his head. Once he’d forced enough oxygen into his lungs for communication, he replied, “Much. I owe you one. You want me to spot you whilst you do some bench work?”

“Nah,” Malik said, rubbing a towel over his own face. “I feel like I’ve just gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson; let’s hit the hammam,” he suggested, pulling himself to his feet and offering his hand to Jumal.

Jumal thought breathing in the thick humidity in the dimly lit traditional steam room was like trying to inhale soup, but it was a part and parcel of Middle Eastern culture and multimillion-pound deals were agreed on in here over a handshake between heads of families who were wearing little more than a hand towel. Jumal looked around at the candles burning in the small alcoves set into the sandstone walls.
Perhaps that’s why they keep it so dark in here,
he mused.

It wasn’t his idea of doing business, much to his father’s dismay.

“So my mother called me and told me to invite you over for dinner once you get back from Dubai, to celebrate. You know how she worries when she hasn’t seen you and fed you up for a couple of weeks. Can I tell her you’ll come?” Malik asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Great, I didn’t even have to tell you that she’s planning on making your favourite.”

Jumal rubbed at his rumbling stomach. “Barbequed lamb skewers with pitta, hummus and chickpeas?”

“You got it. So, did that investigator manage to come back to you with any more information?” Malik asked from beneath his own towel-covered head as he sat across from Jumal. He’d brought Malik up to speed with the events at the party and what happened afterwards when they were getting changed. Jumal had to explain the reason for his sour mood, which his friend had mistakenly assumed lay with the ending of his engagement to Faridah.

“I got a surname and an address for him here and back in the states. I know the MD over at Goldbergs and I’ve put in a call to him,” he explained, but he needed to get off topic before his aggressive side decided to reappear.

He re-secured the small towel around his hips. “So I’ve asked Pippa to accompany me over to Dubai.”

“And how did she take that?” Malik asked, walking over to ladle more water onto the white-hot rocks.

“In her usual gracious and unique style.”

“Well, no doubt you’ll have an interesting trip. So er, who exactly was that other guy who came to the party with Melina and Pippa? You know the over-friendly tall blond bastard?”

Jumal forced himself not to look up and raise a brow at his friend’s enquiry. “James. He’s a vet back in the village where Matt and Pippa live.”

“And, er, he’s leaving here soon then? I mean he’s not staying long term, right?” Malik checked.

“I don’t think so.”

“Hmm, good. I mean right. He’ll have sheep and erm, cows to see to, won’t he.”

Jumal took in a deep breath. “Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?” Jumal asked, not missing the hypocrisy of his advice.

“Who, what—er, what, ha—” Malik, let out a humourless short laugh and raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t er, know what you mean. I just don’t want Melina to get hurt again.”

“Mate, I’d have to be blind to miss the way you stare at her in meetings, how you come up to see me for absolutely no reason just so you can walk past her desk and say hello, sulking if she’s not there or she’s busy on the phone, how you rush to pour the coffee for her in the staffroom and serve it just the way she likes, how you save her a seat and offer her favourite biscuits, how you linger around the elevator at her home time just so you can ride down fifty floors with her and then wait until she’s left the car park so you can come back up, how I’ve seen you belly laugh at her jokes, which are appallingly bad. Need I go on?”

Malik took a deep breath and screwed his face up. “I don’t sulk.”

Jumal sat forward, propping his elbows on his knees, and allowed his head to fall forward into his cupped hands while pulling the towel over his head. Thankfully Malik had always been too distracted by Melina to notice that Jumal was himself guilty of every single one of those little actions—just for a different woman.

***

“You sure you don’t mind?” Pip asked over her shoulder.

James was laid out on one side of her bed, relaxing, arms behind his head, legs crossed at the ankles, looking like a man very much pleased with himself, yet Pippa was full of guilt at having to abandon him so quickly after his arrival. She crossed her room back from her wardrobe, arms full of random dresses, and placed them on the suitcase. She studied each one in turn, discarding most of them quickly for being to “liberal”.

“Nope. It’s fine, hon, honestly. Mel is going to take me sand surfing out in the desert and then up some mountain. Should be fun. She said she couldn’t get you to go up there with her in the cable car,” he said, cheerily wiggling his eyebrows.

“
Mel
?” she teased, smiling back, grateful for his understanding. “It still feels like a crappy thing for me to do after I’m the one who convinced you to come out to see me. So, you and Melina getting along nicely then?” she continued to tease, looking up at him from the pile of discarded clothes.

“Hey, I’m on holiday and she’s good to spend time with,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and offering her a wolfish grin. “Although I was getting some murderous glances from some guy in a suit all night.”

“Really, no idea who that could have been. She’s not seeing anyone,” she told him, inspecting another possible dress before dropping it to the floor. “You didn’t grope her, did you?”

“Gee, thanks for thinking so highly of me, Pip,” he chided lightly. “I wouldn’t do that to her in public. I waited like a gentleman until we got back to her place,” he joked, wiggling his brows. “So anyway, what exactly happened with you leaving early last night? Jumal came up and said he needed your keys and the next thing he’d carted you off. Mel said you’d had too much to drink but I didn’t see you drinking too much.”

Pip hadn’t mentioned the “drugging” to James or Melina. She knew without a doubt that James would tell Matt who would immediately fly out and put her on the next flight home without debate, and Melina would feel responsible simply for the fact that she had organised the party and been in charge of the guest list.

“Cheeky bastard even offered to pay for me to stay in a hotel. As if I needed his charity,” James laughed coldly.

“He did what?” she gasped, surprised that Jumal would even consider looking after her friend.

“Yeah I know. Jerk. So what’s wrong with all those dresses?” he asked, nodding to the growing pile. “You’re only going for one night, aren’t you?”

“I need something conservative. You know,” she said, blowing her fringe up, “with ample coverage. I still can’t believe he’s asked me to go. His fiancée was supposed to travel with him.” She discarded yet another dress on the floor.

“He’s already engaged?” James asked surprised, popping his head up and leaning back on his elbows. “You’re kidding?”

Pip looked up, briefly surprised at his tone, before quickly refocusing on her hopeless task. “Nope. To a real life Cruella de Vil. But why the surprise? Most women would give their right arm to even stand at his side.” Not that she was a masochist but she was intrigued as to why James seemed to be shocked by his engagement.

He shrugged. “Huh, I just assumed from the vibes and death stares he was giving out last night that he had a thing for
you
. My mistake,” he said, twisting to sit up at the side of her bed and running a hand through his hair so it stuck up.

“Right let’s see,” he mused, getting up and now rubbing his day-old stubble as he walked over to her wardrobe and began flicking along the rail she hadn’t got to yet. “Christ I see your shopping addiction hasn’t abated since arriving here. How the hell are you gonna get all this stuff home?”

James went strangely quiet and she looked over at him to see what he’d found and was shaken at the strained look etched on his face. “You
are
coming home in the summer?” he demanded, nodding at her. “Right?” he pressed.

“Of course,” she confirmed, nodding back, not entirely sure she was telling the truth. She’d grown to love the freedom living here gave her. She treasured her growing family completely but she’d never be able to lead a life without Matt’s brotherly concern. He would mean well of course, but still, she had enjoyed the independence and freedom this placement had given her.

Seemingly satisfied at her response, he returned to his quest and Pippa let go of the breath she’d been holding, casting her eyes to the floor. What had James said about Jumal having a
thing
for her? Could he be right? But she quickly dismissed such ponderings as those of a stupid crush. Did
nine years
of wanting a man count as a crush?

“How about this one?” he suggested, turning back to her and holding up the hanger, apparently pleased at his discovery, before continuing, “Personally, I think it will make my arse look big, but on you—hmm yeah, I think you can pull it off.”

Assured that she’d fixed a convincing half smile on her face before she looked up, she took in his suggestion and was pleased that she could now offer James a genuine smile as he moulded the dress against his own body. “Perfect.”

***

“We’re going in that!” Pip exclaimed and stilled, letting go of her holdall and pointing.

“Yes. It’s the quickest way. We’ll be there in thirty-five minutes. Shall we?” he said, moving forward before realising that Pippa hadn’t moved and appeared frozen to the spot. “Pippa?” He glanced back.

“B-but, it’s a helicopter,” she stammered. “A
flying
metal coffin,” she added weakly, biting her lip, her hands now tightly clenched together in front of her.

Jumal cursed, taking a step back to her side. “Oh Christ, I forgot, Pippa. I’m sorry. Look, I can make alternative arrangements. Let’s go back inside. We can go by speedboat.” He bent to pick up her bag and tossed it over his shoulder, unconcerned by its weight.

“N-no wait,” she called to him and appeared to take a deep breath and pushed her glasses back up her nose. “I can do this. Just…just give me a moment, okay?”

He turned to face her. “
If
you want to do this, I’ll be right there with you, Pippa. I’ll sit with you. Nothing will happen,” he promised as he reached out to lift her chin. “I swear.” She looked up at him. Her eyes were wide with terror and darting around nervously. He watched mesmerised as she seemed to gather her resolve and finally, after a few moments, she nodded. Her stunning pale blue eyes now focused entirely on his, her glasses merely framing and emphasising their appeal. Abruptly, the full force of his feelings for her hit Jumal like a tsunami. The fact that she was willing to trust him almost brought him to his knees. He knew what it cost her to show her vulnerability to him, to trust him with it and not to take advantage.

On that otherwise innocuous Monday, standing with Pippa at the top of his building that provided the most amazing 360-degree panoramic view of the city, surrounded by warm early morning sunshine and with Pippa appearing ready to flee at any minute, Jumal accepted that his feelings for her were far more complex than pure lust. He wanted to protect her. He
would
protect this girl with his life, protect her from anything harmful or dangerous, which might just have to include him.

“Come on,” he said encouragingly, taking her hand to lead the way.

***

True to his word, Jumal hadn’t let her have a full meltdown in front of their pilots as he buckled her into the complex-looking safety belt and popped a huge set of headphones over her ears. He’d sat next to her and when she’d reached into her bag to take her stress ball he simply shook his head and offered her his hand, which she accepted with a grateful smile. She wasn’t sure if he was aware that he’d rubbed his thumb soothingly along her hand for the entire journey. He’d looked over at her occasionally, offering words of encouragement, before trying to get comfortable in his seat and returning to staring out of the window.

It seemed he too had been struggling to get comfortable in those bucket seats. He hadn’t even complained when she’d squeezed his hand tightly and screamed when they’d hit some turbulence. Instead he’d asked her more about her degree course and home, and he’d told her secrets about Matt from their time studying at Oxford University. She knew it was a distraction technique but she was still grateful. Jumal had even offered to find a reputable therapist for her to see before she went home to try to help her get over her fears, and she was pleased that he hadn’t tried to dismiss her fears as ridiculous or childish.

She felt a nervous sweat form on her brow as her mind once again raced off with thoughts of being trapped and how unnatural it was to be flying in this contraption. She took deep breaths as she lowered her eyes and popped on her sunglasses.

Her eyes were drawn to the lengths of their bodies, which were forcibly pushed up against each other: thighs, hips, arms. Pip squirmed in her seat at the sensation of heat and strength permeating from his body, his powerful thighs parted in that typical male-dominant fashion. Her heart was now racing for another reason entirely and she convinced herself that the prescription sunglasses she’d just popped on covered the fact that she’d naughtily stared down towards his groin and gawped at the unmistakeable bulge, barely contained in his suit trousers.
Is that—?