His Irresistible Darling (21 page)

“Who knows?” he shrugged. “A prankster probably. Anyway,” he continued, unwilling to let her thoughts linger on it, “I need to go up to my home. There are some things I need to sort with the equestrian centre. Will you come with me?” he asked, trying to keep his voice upbeat.

Jumal’s main home was situated a couple of hours away, deeper in the desert. It was isolated and quiet. A perfect escape whilst he put the wheels in motion to figure out who the hell was targeting Pippa.

“Sure,” she agreed, opening the fridge and bringing out a couple of bottles of beer. “When do you want to go?”

He mentally calculated how long it would take him to make the necessary calls. “Let’s go tomorrow afternoon,” he suggested, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Come on,” he said, as she handed him his bottle. “I fancy pizza in bed.” He grinned, winked at her and strolled out to the living room, grabbing the pizza box before heading down the hall to their bedroom…
their
bedroom, he thought. A warm, comfortable feeling flooded his chest at the sound of it.

***

Pip looked over at Jumal in the passenger seat. His jaw was firmly set and she could tell he had something on his mind, but whatever it was it wasn’t up for discussion. She’d found him having hushed telephone conversations earlier in his study, which he’d quickly ended when she popped her head around the door and offered him a coffee. She’d tried twice to get him to talk about it, but he’d just diverted her attention with kisses. He was definitely up to something.

She sighed as she brought her focus back to the long, straight road. They’d been driving for almost two hours and had covered the full length of the island. Apparently they were almost there. Her back was starting to ache as was her head from the heavy glare of the sun on the asphalt. She pressed her foot lower on the Porsche’s accelerator as the clear road opened up through the desert landscape, scattered with a few palm trees and cacti grouped together around an underground water source. Traffic was almost non-existent save for the odd tractor or bus. She hadn’t seen another town or village for the last thirty minutes.

As a rush of adrenalin hit her body she yelled, “Woo-hoo,” at the responsive roar from the engine. She looked over at Jumal and met his knowing smile, surprised that he wasn’t lecturing her to slow down.

Pip grinned widely, loving the speed and the man sitting next to her… She unconsciously raised her foot from the accelerator. Wait, where the hell had that thought come from?! Did she love him?

Oh fiddlesticks, she did—and didn’t that just stink. She’d gone and fallen in love with the most unobtainable man. She increased the volume of the music using the button on the steering wheel. Jumal must have recognised her change of mood as he didn’t interfere with her decision.

“Something the matter?” he quizzed her.

She kept her focus on the road. “Nope,” she answered briskly. “Everything’s absolutely bloody perfect,” she complained mockingly, unable to keep the disdain from her voice.

***

She was pissed at him.
Again.

Jumal set his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. He’d managed to get Pippa out of the apartment, bags packed, without too many questions so that part of his plan was going well. The other part, the “getting to know each other better” plan, wasn’t going so well…

He was still amazed at the level of intimacy she offered. They would lie together in bed for hours talking about anything and everything, from “Who was the best Dr Who?” to the current political atmosphere in the Middle East, but Jumal still had the sense that she was holding something back, something of herself, and it irritated him that he wasn’t able to convince her that she could trust him completely. He hoped that this precious time at his real home would give him the opportunity he needed to break through the shield he felt she still had wrapped around her heart. Following her vulnerable admission back in his bathroom a couple of weeks ago about the bullying she had suffered, he knew that her public persona—the fun-loving prankster—was only a fraction of her true character. He wanted to know everything about Pippa. He wouldn’t accept anything less.

The vibration of his phone brought his musings to an end and he opened up the message from the private investigator. The kid was back in America and working hard at Goldbergs. Jumal had asked him to try to get hold of the CCTV from the bar Pippa had been at with the kid. Something just didn’t feel right about the incidents. He’d seen first-hand the way Jake had looked at Pippa, and the idea that he would drug her, slash her tyres, steal her bag and damage her car just didn’t fit comfortably with him… It seemed just too…revengeful, and he had nothing to be upset with Pippa about, so far as he knew. The PI confirmed that he’d obtained it on DVD and would forward it to Jumal if he spotted anything suspicious.

“It’s even more beautiful up here in the desert. We’ve gone for miles without seeing another human being. It’s just so quiet,” Pip said, glancing occasionally out of the side window. Apparently, he was forgiven for whatever he’d done to upset her. “The colours are amazing, so rich, and the dunes are spectacular—like waves. I should have brought my snowboard with me and I could have tried some sand surfing. Melina took James out on the dunes and they loved it.”

He grinned over at her. “It is, isn’t it? Some of those dunes are over eight hundred feet high,” he explained, nodding over towards the gigantic sand mountains. “I don’t know why I don’t make more time to come up here—appreciate it more.” He felt the need to push for a little more information on his friend’s behalf. “So what happened with Melina and James? Are they planning on keeping in touch?” He tried to make sure his interest sounded purely conversational.

“Well, James is James.” She shrugged her shoulders and looked over at him. At his confused expression she continued, “By which I mean, he’s a red-blooded young male. I think he really liked Melina but nothing serious was ever going to happen before he left. Much to my dismay, I think he thought a long-distance relationship was never going to stand a chance. Unfortunately Melina disagreed. She was heartbroken and I felt awful. I mean, it was me who kinda set them up but I thought she’d be happy to just have some fun too. Seems she was hoping for more. Anyway, I think she’s getting over it now. Someone sent her some flowers and chocolates, and I called James to make sure it wasn’t him. It wasn’t, although I must have woken him up or caught him at a bad time ‘coz he was a bit offhand with me, which is unusual. So now Melina is trying to solve the mystery of her new admirer. I reckon it’s Conrad in accounts,” she told him.

So Malik had a romantic side… Good for him. Shame he hadn’t put his name on his gift.

Satisfied with his enquiry on his friend’s behalf, he changed topic. “Wait until you see the house,” he teased. “You’ll love it. There’s a veranda and it’s lovely to sit out there at night and look up at the stars. Out here in the desert, you see constellations that you never get to see in the city. My mother used to teach me all about the stars when I was a little boy.”

He looked over at her quizzically. “What are you grinning at?”

She shook her head. “Just imagining you as a little boy; bet you were gorgeous then too. So is this where you grew up?” she asked as the desert lunar landscape flew past the window as he stared out.

“Hmm-hm.”

“So, how does it work exactly?” she asked before adding. “The sheik thing, I mean. I always thought a sheik was some old, dodger chap.”

He let out a sharp huff. “Well it’s really just a tradition now I suppose, although there are still Bedouin communities a little way into the desert. It’s really now just a title handed down from my father, although I do still help resolve internal problems and issues. If you’re really interested, we could visit one not too far from here.”

She looked over at him briefly. “Wow, I mean, yes. I’d love to see that,” she said enthusiastically before focusing her attention back on the long straight road ahead.

“My father was the local sheik until, as you know, he handed that title over to me. Although we have made lots of progress with the culture—religious diversity, infrastructure and lifestyles in the city—things out here are pretty much as they have been for hundreds of years. I was worried about how the two worlds would gel and exist together but they just do. We kept our heritage but support the camps. We provide access to education for the children right through to university level, and we give them any business support that they might need to sell their wares to the increasing numbers of tourists and in the bigger towns. That’s where I come in and help. Here,” Jumal said, pointing towards a dirt track coming up on the right-hand side. “Turn up there.”

Pip narrowed her eyes. “Up there” she checked, pointing with her index finger. “Will the car get up there?”

“She’ll be fine,” he assured her. Pip turned off as directed and tentatively steered the car up the track.

***

“Oh my goodness,” Pip exclaimed as they reached the crest of the hill and the home came into view. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this.” She gestured widely with her hand.

Jumal furrowed his brow as he looked down at her. “What were you expecting?”

“Just something—I don’t know—more modern. Just another version of your apartment, but out here and in a house, I guess,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

The ranch-style home was widespread and featured lots of greenery. Jumal explained that it was only possible through some state-of-the-art irrigation system and something about desalination and solar panels, but she’d zoned out when he was trying to explain how it all worked. White wooden fences surrounded the property and she could see several horses scattered throughout the fields. As they entered through the prerequisite security-guarded gates to ensure the safety and protection of his world-class horses, she noticed the wraparound porch.

“There’s a saltwater swimming pool out the back too if you’re interested.” Jumal added, “But I’ll give you the full tour. I have staff in residence to make dinner but I’d really like to take you out somewhere tonight if you’re not too tired. We can do that visit to the Bedouin on the way as well,” he suggested eagerly.

“Sure.”

They spent the next hour or so touring the grounds and Jumal reintroduced her to the foal—Apollo—he’d bought from Matt when he flew to the stud last December.

“He’s beautiful,” she gushed, stroking down the foal’s mane as she fed a carrot him from her palm
.
She wasn’t only thinking about Apollo.

***

Jumal walked proudly from his dressing room. He was wearing the traditional white robes with a red-and-white headdress secured with a black twisted rope. She seemed to recall it was called an agal.

Pip saw him reflected in the mirror she was using while she put her earrings in. “Good lord,” she stuttered, her hand shooting to her chest as she spun around to face him. “You’re every woman’s hottest fantasy right now. Wait…wait, let me take a picture.”

His cheeks heated and he dropped his head briefly at her statement. “But I’m only interested in being yours.” He smiled cheekily, nodding at her, and stalked over to her. “Because you
are
mine Pippa,” he declared before bending to kiss her. He broke their embrace as they were both left breathless.

“My very own, real-life Lawrence of Arabia. For the next couple of months anyway. I may swoon,” she declared, fanning herself dramatically with her hand. “Would you catch me?”

“Always,” he promised before dropping another soft kiss to her lips. He gave her a boyish grin. “Come on,” he encouraged, taking her hand. “We’d better get going before I change my mind and take you to bed.”

***

They drove for about half an hour inland, deeper into the desert, the setting sun swamping the land with a warm, hazy glow. She’d chosen a light mint green, fifties-style summer dress but added a white cardigan and popped a silver wrap in her bag at Jumal’s warning that the desert would get cold later. She’d added sensible flats for the visit to the Bedouin village.

On the journey, Jumal had explained the make-up of the village and the importance of the family.

The village was made up of several tents in varying sizes but all colourfully decorated and scattered around palm trees.

“Camels!” she exclaimed excitedly, exiting the car as she pointed towards the small herd. She clapped her hands and then reached for her phone to take a photo.

“Hmm-hm,” Jumal whispered into her ear as he came up behind her and hugged her back to his chest. “How do you think we’re getting to the restaurant?”

She gasped and spun around. “Oh but I’m not really dressed for that, if I’d known—” she complained, holding the skirt of her dress out widely.

“Wait,” Jumal said, turning her in his arms. “You mean you’d happily get up on a camel and ride in the desert with me? I was joking,” he clarified, astounded.

“Are you kidding?
Of course
I would,” she agreed, nodding intensely and peering back over her shoulder at the animals.

Jumal seemed stupefied. He shook his head and took her hand to lead her towards one of the larger tents. “Unbelievable,” she heard him mutter not quite under his breath. “No bloody fear.”

Chapter Ten

She gingerly entered the tent, having covered her head respectfully with a silver scarf from her handbag, and was sincerely surprised by the space and luxury it offered. The smell of roasting spices and coffee was mouth-watering. At the centre was a wooden fire pit; Jumal had the mock gas version at his house. An older woman with warm eyes and deep-set wrinkles beckoned her inside and offered her a drink of tea in a small white ceramic pot, nodding appreciatively as Pip managed to thank her with some faltering Arabic. Pip caught Jumal’s gratitude at her attempt.

She was shown to a seating area with a scattering of purple, orange and red cushions. The entire floor was covered with rugs in a multitude of rustic colours, and she sat crossed-legged, happily observing as Jumal partook of the traditional hookah bubble pipe with several older men of the tribe. She loved listening to the guttural sounds of their language. A plate with freshly baked pitta from the fire pit was handed around the group, together with pots of hummus and olives. Pip munched away contentedly.