His Irresistible Darling (16 page)

She crossed her arms over her chest. “This isn’t going to end well, Jumal. Most likely one of us will kill the other,” she warned.

“Most likely,” he agreed pursing his lips before continuing. “But hey, with me in this condition, you’ve got to at least fancy your chances against me.”

She rolled her eyes at him and he couldn’t hide the satisfied smile that spread across his lips. He was getting addicted to their banter and was secretly thrilled that he’d get the chance to enjoy it up close and personal for at least the next few weeks. He finally relaxed as she walked over to him again and paused at his bedside before slowly lowering her body towards him. Jesus was she going to kiss him again? His heart raced and the bloody monitors went haywire again. She pressed the nurse call button before slumping back into her chair, muttering to herself before she added, “And just so we’re clear, I don’t cook.”

Jumal let out his breath. She was right; he was an idiot.

He closed his eyes, unable to keep them open any longer. No doubt she was feeling railroaded. Hell he was shell-shocked by his own demands too. It couldn’t be helped though, and he’d make no apology. He got what he wanted: Pippa with him, alone. A chance for her to get to know him, away from work, before he made his intentions towards her clear. He just prayed they both survived it.

***

When he was finally ready to be checked out, he begrudgingly allowed the nurse to wheel him down the corridor towards the reception area. It was hospital policy apparently, and he no longer had the energy or willpower to argue with Nurse Ratchet. The petite woman was surprisingly strong-willed. He sensed this characterisation was becoming a theme for females in his life. “You have a very lovely fiancée there, Mr Aldabbagh,” she remarked, bending forward as she pushed him along. “She wouldn’t leave you alone the whole time. You take care of that one. She’s a keeper,” she ended in a sing-song voice.

He stood gingerly without assistance and turned at the sound of Pippa jogging down the hallway behind him, clutching the bag of his pain meds. “Got ‘em,” she shouted, now waving the bag around in front of her body.

He couldn’t agree more
.
“Thank you. I plan to.”

Chapter Eight

“PIPPAAAA,” Jumal yelled, trying to make himself heard over the heavy bass music radiating throughout his apartment and Pippa’s yodelling.

Huh, he thought, surprised that he actually knew this one as he hummed along to the Simple Minds eighties classic… Over the last week he’d learned the hard way that Pippa liked her music one way—
loud.

“
Don’t…don’t…don’t…don’t—
oh hey,” she finally greeted him, smiling widely as she strolled into the living room, wrapping her hair up in a towel and wearing a long white waffle-style robe, tied tightly to emphasise her tiny waist. “You should have shouted to let me know you were back.”

“Yeah, I’ll try that next time. Are you deaf? And what the hell is that green stuff on your face?”

“What was that?” she yelled, tilting her head and catching the towel as it started to slide from her head. “Hang on,” she suggested, waving a hand at him, “I can’t hear you. Let me turn the music down.”

Little minx, he thought as he rolled his eyes whilst she vanished momentarily. He recalled her squeal of delight when she’d first arrived and noticed the state-of-the-art sound system wired throughout the apartment, quickly followed by her scream of horror at learning that they were going to be sharing a bathroom as in typical style all over the world, the plumber Maria had arranged hadn’t turned up and Jumal simply hadn’t bothered to chase it up.

She joined him again, having turned down the volume to merely loud. “Sorry, what were you saying?” she prompted.

“
You
like Simple Minds?” he asked, walking over towards the kitchen and popping the bag on the table.

“Sure, I love old stuff,” she declared before winking at him and joining him at the kitchen counter. “I used to listen to whatever Matt was listening to,” she continued, popping herself onto a high stool.

Jumal pushed the bag towards her. “This is for you.”

The puzzled look on her face made him smile. “For me?” she asked, putting her hand to her chest.

“Hmm-hm.” He nodded. “Well, for both of us really. Go on and open it.”

She grabbed the bag and excitedly and ripped open the packaging. “Wow, headphones!” she exclaimed as he watched her check them out. “
Really
good headphones,” she added, looking up at him.

“Yeah,” he said, walking over to the fridge for a bottle of water. “The guy in the shop said that they were the best, something about brilliant noise reduction…or something.” He shrugged his shoulders and noted that the pain wasn’t quite as bad as usual. “I just asked for the best they had,” he said, walking back to the counter and trying to open the bottle unsuccessfully with one hand. She grabbed it and did the job for him before returning to admire her present.

“Thanks, Jumal,” she said quietly. “That’s really thoughtful.”

“No problem,” he said dismissively, taking a swig from the bottle, feeling strangely nervous all of a sudden. “Well you said you left yours at home and we both know how much you
love
listening to your music. Now we won’t have to have a battle over the volume.” A battle she’d been winning for the last week since she’d arrived.

She popped off her stool and came over to him, surprising him when she reached up and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

He rubbed at the spot her lips had touched. “Oh sorry, I forgot I had that on my face, here,” she said, taking hold of his chin and turning it to the side to wipe at it with the belt of her robe.

“So why do women insist on slapping that stuff all over their faces?”

She cocked her head to the side for a moment before stepping back and pursing her lips. “Hmm, well it’s great for the skincare routine and helps relaxation.”

He gave her a look that conveyed his doubt.

“Not that you would have a clue what relaxation was; you’re a workaholic. You can see it in those little lines starting to form around your eyes,” she baited and raised a finger to the edge of his eye as she continued, “I’ll make a deal with you: let me give you a facial and if you don’t find it relaxing I’ll offer you something even you can’t say no to…” He raised an interested brow as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll stop teasing you at work.”

Hmm, not what he was hoping she was about to offer but still…

“And how will we prove that I find it relaxing?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “I’m willing to take it on trust. That’s how confident I am.”

After a few moments he nodded. “Okay, you have a deal.”

She stepped forward towards his body and reached up to run her fingers over his jawline, and Jumal was momentarily surprised by the contact.

“Good,” she said, dropping her hand and reaching for his left hand before pulling him off towards the bathroom. “Come on,” she encouraged, dragging him behind her. “I’ll need to give you a shave first.”

He pulled her to a stop and said, “I can shave myself, Pippa.”

She spun around to face him. “Oh no, mister,” she dismissed, waving her index finger at him. “Last time you attempted to shave your face with your left hand we ended up spending half an hour covering each nick with tissue and it will hurt when I put the oil on your face, so suck it up and just let me do it.” She widened her eyes in a challenge. “Okay?”

“This is ridiculous,” he mumbled as she marched to the bathroom, although a very small part of him wondered whether he protested just to get her riled up; he was actually quite looking forward to a little Pippa pampering.

Having made him change into his own bathrobe, she deposited him on a chair she’d brought along into the bathroom and positioned next to the marble counter as she began her preparations: first placing a hot face towel over his face. He’d started to ask questions but she had quickly cut him off, telling him that if he was going to question her every move then it was going to take all night…which meant less time for him to work. He shut up.

After a few minutes she discarded the towel saying, “Hmm, this smells nice, menthol or something.” She held a blob of the foam to her nose and inhaled deeply, pushing out her chest.

He dropped his eyes. “Spearmint,” he corrected, clearing his throat and reaching up to wipe off the blob she’d gotten on her nose as she began to slowly cover his face and throat.

“Thanks,” she offered.

He swallowed hard. “No problem.” He closed his eyes briefly as she turned her back to him to refill the sink. Being in such close proximity to Pippa was like locking a diabetic in a chocolate shop. He forced his good arm to drop and take a firm grip on the chair. Just to make sure his hand didn’t get him in trouble. At least the other was securely bound!

This predicament was far too tempting and he needed a distraction.

“So er, why do you insist on joking around and acting like a kid so much?”

She spun around, her brows jumping high to disappear beneath her fringe.

“I wouldn’t have thought this was the best time to upset me, Jumal,” she said, holding the razor menacingly.

He swallowed again and he saw her eyes dart to his bobbing Adam’s apple. “Perhaps not, but I still want to know.”

She stalked over to him and narrowed her eyes before taking a grip of his hair with one hand and tilting his head to the side and bringing the razor into contact with his skin.

He watched her face, which was etched with concentration, as the tip of her tongue darted out to the side of her mouth before she turned to the sink to rinse off the blade.

“Pippa,” he encouraged, as she finally took a deep breath and turned back to him.

“I was bullied at school and even though I’ve never been to see a shrink or anything, I’m pretty sure it’s some kind of defensive reaction to that. A need to cover up my feelings to make sure the people I cared about didn’t see what was really going on. Okay,” she confessed, exasperated.

Jumal was stunned and he took hold of her wrist to still her as she moved the razor back to his cheek.

“
You
were bulled at school?” he repeated in surprise. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, nonchalantly, but he wasn’t fooled and he needed to know more. Not to push to make her tell him about what was no doubt something she wanted to forget, but because he
needed
to know everything about her.

“How old were you? When did it happen?”

“High school. So I was about twelve or thirteen when it first started. About the same time I got braces.”

He narrowed his brows. “It was about your braces? But don’t most kids have braces that age?” he asked, confused.

“No. It wasn’t
just
about my braces. There’s nothing more vicious than bullies. It can be anything. I was teased for wearing glasses, having braces, having parents who were deemed old—” She continued to talk as she shaved him and he was pleased that she carried on talking to him. “You know my parents thought they couldn’t have any more children after Matt. Mum was in her late thirties when she had him, so when I came along thirteen years later—” She gave a tight-lipped smile and shrugged. “Then of course the bastards discovered my fear of small, enclosed places and locked me in the storage cupboard in the gym.”

“Jesus how’d they find that out?”

He saw sadness spread over her face and reach her eyes. “My best friend. She was a redhead with freckles. Need I say any more? They called her the usual nasty names and teased her incessantly until they broke her and she told them a secret about me, which was all they wanted.”

“Didn’t you tell anyone?”

“No. Matt was still away from home at the time and I didn’t want to tell my parents. I was ashamed that I couldn’t deal with it myself and I didn’t want them to know that I was being teased because they were older than most parents, that I was being constantly told that they were going to die soon. Like I said, nothing as nasty as a bully.”

She moved to the other side of his body and again took hold of his head and tilted it to the side.

“So anyway, I tried to remain positive and happy like normal and managed to carry it off until the bullying finally stopped. I think they got bored that they couldn’t get the reaction out of me that they wanted.” She tapped out the razor again before moving lower on his face towards his throat.

“So, I’m sorry if I act out sometimes at work. I just have a need to please people and make them like me. I know it’s stupid.” She shook her head.

He took hold of her wrist again. “I don’t think it’s stupid. I think you’re brave to have gone through that on your own and if Matt had known—”

Her eyes widened with alarm. “You can’t tell Matt, Jumal. Ever. He’d hate it that he didn’t know what was going on. Please,” she begged.

“Okay, Okay,” he reassured. “I won’t say anything, but like I was saying, I think you’re very brave to have stood up to bullies at that age.” He dropped her wrist and lowered his gaze as he continued, “I wish I’d have had the guts to stand up to a bully.”

“You were bullied too?” she asked, shocked.

“Not in the sense that you were bullied. My bully was far closer to home. My father.”

“Your father?”

“Yeah, his preferred form of bullying was more emotional over physical though. He basically dictated every move I ever made in my life until I was twenty-one: my education, my hobbies, my friends, even chose Faridah as my fiancée. Whenever I would stand up against his authority he would throw my heritage and title back at me and what a disappointment I’d been to him.” He gave a short, humourless laugh.

“The best thing he ever did though was send me off to Oxford to study—not that I thought so at the time. I met Matt there and he changed my life, showed me what freedom really was. I remember coming back to Melville for one summer.” He paused at the memory of Pippa. “You’d have been only about six or so at the time, all cute with hair in pigtails but covered in mud if I recall and stuffing your face with one of Mrs Henderson’s cookies. You looked like a little street urchin,” he teased as she batted at his shoulder.