His Irresistible Darling

by Sarah Randall

  “Well—” he paused to clear his throat and swallow “—I did. Right up until now,” he admitted, somewhat sheepishly.

  “I’ll get a nurse,” she said and he thought she added something else. No doubt something derogatory.

  “Pippa,” he called again. “Leave the nurse for a moment. Sit,” he said, nodding to the chair. “I’m sorry,” he added as she refused to move. “Please just sit and talk with me for a moment,” he pleaded. Had he ever had to beg for anything before in his life?

  He needed to find out if she truly felt the same for him as he felt for her. One way or another he needed to know.

  She stood pondering her next move before finally conceding and walking to his bedside. “Idiot,” she mumbled and finally took a seat.

  “Sorry,” he offered, bowing his head slightly, suitably chastised. “I won’t try to be funny again,” he promised with a wry smile and holding his free hand up in surrender. He was pleased beyond words at the slight curve of her lips.

  “Okay, you’re forgiven. No more funnies without my supervision. Got it?”

  “Yes, miss,” he agreed solemnly. “So, what happened?”

  Her face became alarmed again. “You really don’t remember?” she asked.

  “Well, I remember getting thrown but after that.” He shrugged and flinched again. “Agh. I’ve got to stop doing that,” he complained.

  He watched her drop her head and twist her hands together on her lap. “Well, you hit the ground hard obviously.” She paused and looked up at him from under her long lashes before offering a small smile and tilting her head to one side. “Oh and then your horse did a tap-dance routine on your chest after you landed. I gave her nine point zero for artistic impression.”

  He chuckled and his face creased with the pain from his chest. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts too much,” he begged.

  “Serves you right. You…you—” she paused, searching for just the right word “—idiot.” Her favourite word of the day, and he couldn’t argue with her analysis.

  “So what exactly have I broken?” he asked, stalling for time.

  “Well let’s see,” she began, looking down and counting off on her fingers. “Your clavicle’s got a hairline fracture on your right-hand side, a couple of broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder—” she looked up “—which they popped back in after you had a scan. The doctors on the helicopter—”

  He interrupted. “Helicopter?” he asked, genuinely confused.

  She pointed her index finger at him. “Ah, don’t even get me started on that one. I was almost ready to beg the medic for a dose of whatever it was they were pumping into you. If your left hand hurts, it’s ‘coz I was gripping it so tightly. Nothing to do with the fall.”

  He offered her a conciliatory smile. “Thank you for coming with me. I know that must have been hard for you.” He closed his eyes. Just ask her, he pushed himself. She is sitting right in front of you, alone. Just ask her if she has any feelings for you. Nice feelings, he added. He knew she wasn’t shy at conveying the negative feelings she had for him—frequently. Coward, he berated himself. He couldn’t expect her to admit any feelings she might have for him, if he didn’t have the nerve to volunteer his feelings to her first.

  “Pippa, I—”

  “So, I’ve—” they started simultaneously.

  “Go ahead,” he offered.

  “Oh okay. I was just going to say that I called Matt and asked him to try to get hold of your parents to let them know what happened. I also just went to call Melina to ask her to contact Faridah. I didn’t have my phone with me to call people.”

  “Don’t bother contacting any of them,” he informed her coldly, shaking his head.

  She tilted her head to the side and raised her brows. “Really?” she questioned. “Why on earth not?”

  “Well, my parents are travelling in the Far East somewhere—” He tried to take a breath without causing pain before he continued. “And Faridah and I are no longer together,” he confessed quickly.

  He watched her eyes widen in shock and her mouth drop open. “What?” she exclaimed. “Since when?” She edged forward in her seat.

  “A few weeks ago. I don’t want to talk about her,” he dismissed. She was of no importance to him any more. He wanted to focus on the woman in front of him. Huh, woman. He thought that might be the first time he’d ever thought of her as a woman as opposed to a girl. One touch of her lips and she was all woman to him now. He’d laugh at the absurdity of their situation if it wouldn’t hurt him so much.

  “Okay,” she said slowly sitting back in her chair. “Seeing as though it’s confession time—”

  God, this was it. She was going to tell him what he so desperately wanted to hear. He tried to relax as the bloody heart rate monitor began bleeping loudly, betraying him to everyone including the hospital cleaner loudly bagging a mop or some other contraption in the hallway.

  He watched Pippa nervously fidget and her eyes dart towards the monitor. “Are you all right? Do you need me to get the nurse?” Just as she started to rise a nurse popped her head around the corner.

  “Welcome back, Mr Aldabbagh. Everything okay in here? Your fiancée’s not getting you overexcited is she?” she asked knowingly, her eyes wide. “Or are you struggling with the pain?” Now concerned.

  “No. No it’s fine,” he rushed, anxious for her to leave so he could be alone with Pippa again.

  He watched the nurse consider his responses before she nodded and replied, “All right, but you need your rest so try to stay calm and just buzz me if you need more pain medication. Don’t try to be a hero. Take the drugs,” she lectured before leaving.

  The monitor slowed down finally. “My fiancée?” he pressed, a brow raised as he turned back towards Pippa.

  “Oh, erm, right,” she glanced down. “Thought I was literally saved by the bell then.” He watched her take a deep breath and wished he could do the same. “So when you fell, the medics wanted to know about your next of kin and if you had any allergies and stuff,” she ran on, her hands frantic, before glancing up at him.

  He nodded in encouragement for her to continue. “Mmm-hmm.”

  “So, I knew your parents weren’t there and I hadn’t seen Faridah all day, so I told them that I was your fiancée,” she gushed, unwilling to land Kahlid in Jumal’s bad books. “And I told them about your allergy to penicillin.”

  He tried to hide his surprise at her confession. It wasn’t what he had been expecting or indeed hoping for but this was now the second time that Pippa had been mistaken for his fiancée and the idea was strangely appealing.

  “I’m sorry, Jumal.” She dropped her head into her hands, elbows resting on her knees. “I didn’t want to embarrass you but I didn’t want you to have to go on that helicopter alone and—”

  “Hey,” he said warmly, reaching for her hand. “It’s fine. Thank you. It means a lot to me that you came with me.”

  She looked up, allowing her hands to drop, and met his eyes. “Really?” she checked, her eyes wide.

  He thinned his lips and nodded and he watched her relax.

  She continued to fidget with her hands and rub them on her dress. “Right. Good. Thanks.”

  There was a moment’s silence before there was a knock on the door. They both turned their heads at the interruption.

  It was the bloody kid again. The kid lingered like a bad smell. “Oh. Hello. Er, can I come in?”

  “No. Emshi,” Jumal practically growled at the intruder.

  “Yes, of course,” Pippa said at the same time. She threw him a curt look and stood up to greet the bastard, kissed him on the bloody cheek and hugged him.

  “I’m glad to see you’re okay, Mr Aldabbagh,” the twerp prattled. “That was a bad fall.”

  Jumal rudely ignored him, preferring to concentrate on and dissect Pippa’s reaction to him.

  “I, er, brought you your bag, Pippa,” he said, proudly holding it out to her like a prize.

  Jumal wat
ched her smile warmly at the kid. She never smiled at him like that. He sulked as he tried to sit up in bed, hating to appear even slightly weak with the kid in the room. He quickly wished he hadn’t bothered and yelped again at the pain. On the positive side, Pippa quickly rushed back to his bedside, helping him to get comfortable. Huh, he thought. Interesting.

  “Thanks, Jake. That’s really kind of you,” she acknowledged whilst rubbing Jumal’s forearm gently. He wondered if she even knew she was doing it. The kid had spotted it though. His keen eyes had zeroed in on the touch.

  “O-okay,” he stammered before apparently recovering his nerve. “Oh yeah, by the way, I forgot to give you these earlier,” he said, reaching into his inside jacket pocket and pulling out an envelope.

  Oh, the guy knew exactly what he was doing. Pippa moved her hand from Jumal to reach up and take hold of the envelope and pulled out what looked like photographs. Jumal winced again as he tried to see what she was looking at so intently. The kid caught his wince though.

  “Oh wow, Jake, these are amazing,” she declared, flicking through the series of pictures before proudly holding them up for Jumal to see. “Look at that sunset, Jumal. It’s from the top of Mount Gaiza; isn’t it just spectacular? We got another hiker to take a photo of us. We could see all the way across to Dubai. Couldn’t we, Jake?”

  “Yeah, it was worth all the aching muscles. Right, Pip?”

  “Oh absolutely,” she agreed, still flicking through the photos and showing Jumal, who was still digesting the fact that Pippa and this kid had spent time together. She’d been alone with someone who might well have drugged her.

  “Wait,” he interrupted her viewing. “I thought you hated enclosed spaces. Did you take the cable car with him?” Jumal gritted his teeth, waiting for her reply and ignoring the fact that he was jealous that Pippa had trusted the jerk enough to get in a bloody cable car with him. Talk about weird priorities.

  “No,” Jake replied for her. “We drove up to the lower viewing platform and then hiked the rest of the way to the top. Took us about three hours or so. Right, Pip?”

  Pippa was still distracted by the photos. “Hmm-hmm. Thanks for bringing them,” she said, before re-pocketing the pictures and holding out the envelope to him.

  “Oh no, it’s okay. Those are your copies. I have my own.”

  Jumal clenched his good hand.

  “Well I just wanted to make sure you were all right,” Jake said, slowly backing out of the room. “I told Melina I’d bring your bag as she was finishing up with the guests. She asked me to tell you that she’d be along as soon as she can to give you a lift home.” He clapped his hands together once before pointing his hand over his shoulder to the door. “So, er, I’ll be off then.”

  Yeah, bugger off to New York, Jumal thought.

  “Thanks again, Jake,” Pippa said.

  He shifted around on his feet. “No worries. So maybe we could get together again before I leave for the States? I really would like to go on that trip to Dubai we spoke about,” he suggested too keenly for Jumal.

  What bloody trip to Dubai was he talking about now?

  “Oh,” Pippa paused and looked down at Jumal. He managed to stop the victory smile that had started to form on his lips. “Yeah sure, that would be great,” she replied.

  What the hell? No way. Evidently, an intervention was necessary and he coughed intentionally, readily accepting the resulting pain. Pippa looked down at him with concern. At this moment, Jumal wasn’t against using whatever underhand tactics he had at his disposal to gain Pippa’s attention, and for some unknown reason, Pippa seemed to be genuinely concerned about him. The thought both bemused and excited him.

  “Great.” The kid seemed too pleased with himself as he smiled back at Pippa. Jumal tracked their interaction like he was watching a tennis match. He was getting a headache. He hated tennis. Pointless sport.

  Pippa was still rubbing his forearm so he moved and took her hand in his. She looked down, startled, and he thought he heard her breath catch.

  “So I’ll give you a call in a couple of days,” Jake suggested.

  He just wasn’t getting the idea was he?! She’s mine, he wanted to yell, and I’ve only just realised this so bugger off whilst I figure out how the hell to tell her…

  “Sure,” she agreed and thankfully the Yank took that as his cue to leave.

  Adiós, chico.

  He decided that desperate times called for desperate measures.

  “I’ll need you to move in with me,” he demanded brazenly.

  He definitely heard the swift intake of her breath this time. “What?” she shrieked, pulling her hand from his grasp. “You’ve got to be kidding me?”

  Okkaayy—so he’d been looking for a little more enthusiasm. He pressed on regardless.

  “No. I’m not kidding you,” he informed her, slightly peeved by her negative reaction. “As you can see, I am somewhat immobile and I will need you to help me with work and such.”

  And she was off again, waving her finger at him and pacing the room. “No way. Nuh-uh, not happening, Jumal. We’ll end up killing each other.”

  “Are you or are you not my Personal Assistant?”

  “Yes,” she conceded, “but—”

  This is low, Jumal, even for you, he thought before continuing, not giving her chance to form an argument.

  “This is your final year at university and it would be a great shame if you didn’t finish your placement, wouldn’t it?” he suggested innocently.

  She seemed lost for words as she continued to pace and run her hand through her hair. Finally she stopped and stared at him coldly. Eventually she simply nodded.

  “Glad we can at least agree on that. I’ll expect you to move into the guest room immediately. Melina can help you and I will have the concierge help at my end. I can still run the businesses from home with your help. Sorted. Would you call for a doctor so we can find out when I can get out of here?”

  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 m
eds. “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.”