Decision made, she let her fingers fly over the keys as she saved her new screen saver: “My very own Shrek.”
***
Jumal wasn’t listening to the argument presently taking place between his board members miles across town in the boardroom back at his office. Grateful that he was able to sit in his study at home and ignore them on the speakerphone, his mind was on Pippa. Again. This time, he was running his mind back over that facial she had given him a week ago. He rolled his head around on his shoulders, still feeling the benefit of her blissful massage. He remembered secretly hoping that she would offer to give him another facial in the next couple of days and that this time, when those magic hands of hers graced his collarbone that they would drift lower, fingers exploring lower over his highly sensitive nipples, which none of his previous lovers had ever taken the time to discover or ask about…lower further until…
He ended his conference call at the alarming smell coming from somewhere in the apartment.
“What’s burning?” he asked, having tracked the smell to the kitchen where Pippa stood over a pan on the hob. He took up position directly behind her and risked a peek over her shoulder, into a pan of bubbling…stuff. A few days ago, having returned from her holiday, Maria, his housekeeper, had told him that she’d replaced the burnt pans that she had noticed had been thrown out in the bins outside. Now he understood.
“It’s not burning,” she replied, offended. “It’s er—simmering.”
“Hmm,” Jumal uttered, looking suspicious. “If you’re sure,” he added.
Pippa slammed the wooden spoon down on the counter and turned to face him, hands on hips. “What?” she exclaimed, tilting her head.
“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head, backing off a step and holding his palms up in defence.
She started to turn back to the pan. “But,” he began and she stopped mid-turn and eyed him over her shoulder. “Have you actually tasted it?” he enquired, risking life and limb.
She tried to stare him out. “Hand me a teaspoon, Aldabbagh,” she demanded, holding her palm out to him.
Jumal opened the drawer and placed the implement into her open palm like he was handing a knife to a surgeon and looked on as she turned away and dipped the spoon in the pan, blew on the steam and tasted it, smacking her lips together. It seemed to him that minutes passed…before she straightened, rolled her shoulders back, reached for the menus she’d pinned to the fridge and said, “Chinese or Thai takeaway.”
He smiled at her admission and raised a brow. “I’ve got a better idea,” he said, taking an apron from the back of the door and throwing it to her. “You’re my new commis chef.”
***
The next hour passed in a wonderful domestic whirl as they created their dinner; the kitchen filled with delicious smells as Pip took his direction perfectly: chopping spring onions, dicing and frying off chicken with garlic, adding chunks of chorizo, a sprinkling of paprika, Spanish rice, chicken stock and a generous glug of sherry. He clarified sherry was his mother’s tipple of choice at her quizzical look when he grabbed it from the cupboard. They were making paella.
They shared a glass of the sherry while waiting for the rice to cook, drinking it the traditional Spanish way, with huge amounts of ice and soda. Pippa regaled him with the goings-on and gossip from the office. He listened half-heartedly whilst she told him about Melina and how she was pining for that James chap. In truth, Jumal was distracted by the alien feelings of comfort and cosiness that came with their domestic scene. He was content—happy and trying to think of the best way to ask for another facial…
After twenty minutes or so he dipped the same small spoon Pip had used earlier in the pan and blew on it gently, before tasting it and then offering it to Pippa. Their eyes met as she opened her mouth and tasted. He stared dumfounded as her tongue quickly licked her lips. His gaze flashed to hers and caught a look in her eyes of pure human need, likely reflected in his eyes. The look that passed between them was a game changer.
He twisted around to turn off the heat under the pan and dropped the spoon on the island counter behind Pippa, taking a step closer to her body, giving her time to move away once she saw his raw intentions. She was pinned against the black marble counter top but remained statuesque save for the telltale rise and fall of her chest, containing her racing heart, which mimicked his. She swallowed nervously and bowed her head as he took the final step, which put his body flush against hers. He reached out to cup her chin and raise her eyes; she yielded to his touch. His breath caught as their eyes met again and—BAM.
A moment when time stopped and only the two of them existed. No worries about what their families would think. Just them, drawn together by invisible strings, powerless to do anything but come together.
His hand fell away from her chin but only so he could trace the tips of his fingers tantalisingly down her neck to her clavicle. He heard her breath hitch.
***
Pip’s head was buzzing. There was something important that she needed to say, but goddamn it she just couldn’t think what the hell it was. She couldn’t concentrate on anything but the fact that Jumal was touching her body. Oh…my…God—Jumal was touching her. It felt like she was in high school again and it was the first time Jimmy “bloody” Stears had “twanged” her bra strap. She giggled at the bizarre and somewhat inappropriate thought even as an excited shiver radiated through her body.
“If you’re laughing I’m not doing this right, Pip, and you’re hurting my ego,” he complained lightly, nipping at her shoulder. Her core clenched in reply and her knees buckled.
“No, no, it’s not you. But Jumal, maybe this isn’t a good idea,” she suggested half-heartedly, clinging tightly to his T-shirt, keeping his body tight to hers yet careful not to crush his bound arm.
“Hmm,” he mumbled against her throat. “I suppose, we could ruin the potential for friendship.”
She sighed. “Not what I was thinking.” She scraped her nails down his back and delighted at the responsive groan from his throat. “I don’t really like you that much anyway,” she said facetiously before letting out her own moan, her head rolling back, exposing the line of her neck in silent invitation.
“Hmm, me neither. You’re a pain in my arse,” he quipped, brushing his lips over her clavicle before nibbling at the sensitive skin where her neck and shoulder met.
“Oh yeah? Well, you’re an arrogant pig and a workaholic control freak,” she countered, her hands gripping desperately at his hair.
“Hmm-hm,” he agreed, bending his knees slightly and running his hand up the back of her right knee, higher still behind her thigh, now dropping his lips down, exploring lower, across the top of her breasts. The scrape of his short nails sent shivers pulsing over her body. “And you’re—”
“Yes?” she prompted breathlessly.
“You’re—” He paused his ministrations and waited until her eyes opened and focused on him before taking her face in his hands. “Mine,” he declared simply before kissing her senseless.
***
Jumal was lost. His senses overloaded, the sweet taste of Pippa’s lips on his tongue. Hmm, he thought, she must have been eating the baklava they’d bought at the bazaar yesterday, her scent surrounding him. From the moment their tongues touched, he was a lost man. He would have given her anything she asked of him. Somehow, he’d even manage to stop, if she asked that of him…
God he suddenly loved the combined taste of baklava and sherry!
His left hand curled behind her head and into her hair, gathering it in his fist as he deepened their kiss; she moaned with pleasure. He couldn’t recall a woman ever being so audibly responsive to his touch…but then, perhaps he’d never cared to listen so much before now. He wanted, no needed to please Pippa.
The intercom suddenly buzzed and Jumal thought he might have actually growled… He definitely cursed.
“Saved by the bell?” Pippa uttered quietly, ducking her head to rest on his left pec.
“Yes?” he said abruptly into the intercom system.
“Good evening, sir. Miss Darling has a visitor.”
He turned as Pippa gasped, “Oh God, Jake.” Her hand shot up to cover her mouth fleetingly. “I completely forgot we were going out for a drink before he leaves.” She ducked past him and started to run towards her room shouting behind her, “Just tell him I’ll be down in a minute.” Her door slammed shut.
“Did you get that?” he grumbled to the concierge.
“Yes, sir.”
Jumal leaned back against the kitchen counter and crossed his legs, waiting for her to return. So that was it? She was abandoning him to go out with that kid? He let out a quick breath and shook his head to try to clear it.
She breezed back into the room a few moments later wearing a T-shirt and jeans. Seemed it would be a casual night out.
“So you’re just leaving? What about…?” He motioned his hand between the two of them.
“Jumal, I can’t talk about this now. I promised Jake I’d have a quick drink with him before he leaves. He’s a friend, that’s all, and I already bailed out of a snowboarding trip to Dubai with him to look after you.” She threw her arms wide open.
He shook his head and raked his good hand through his hair. “You were going to do what with him? You know what, never mind. I don’t like him and I don’t think you should go out with him. He could have been the one who drugged you!” he announced, practically sulking.
“Yeah, well that’s not your decision. You’re not my father,” she lectured, “and there is absolutely no evidence that he spiked my drink.”
He studied his bare feet. “If you were my daughter I’d have you locked in your room by now,” he added under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Go then. I’ll save the dinner until you get back.” He sulked, pushing away from the counter top and storming past her to his office.
***
Jumal stood under the powerful jets of water in his shower, trying to relax his once-again tense shoulder muscles. It seemed the benefit of that massage had well and truly vanished. He let the water pound on the back of his neck; his head dropped forward, resting against the cool tiles. On the plus side, at least he could take his arm out of the sling for a shower now. The last couple of weeks had been hell trying to cover his arm and shoulder with some plastic contraption Pippa had bought.
He’d almost driven himself crazy, going over and over the kiss with Pippa. Had he got it completely wrong? She’d seemed to be as into it as him, but then she had more or less run out on him when another alternative had come along. And where the hell was she? She said quick drink and she’d been gone over an hour now.
He tilted his head to the side and out from under the torrent and then turned off the water altogether. His mobile phone was ringing but not with the usual factory setting tone. Pippa had got her hands on it a couple of days ago and ever since it was ringing out to the sounds of some prat called “Bruno Mars” who kept singing about loving some girl just the way she was… Apparently, Pippa loved him: the Mars chap, not Jumal.
He reached for a towel and tried unsuccessfully to wrap it around his waist one handed, wondering whether Pippa would be up for helping him in the shower from now on, as he finally gave up entirely on the towel and walked into his bedroom, dripping water as Mr Mars continued to warble about some woman’s hair. He grabbed his phone from the bedside table but didn’t recognise the number.
“Yeah?” He heard a woman sniff.
“Jumal. It’s me—” she started softly and sniffed again, like she’d been crying.
“Pippa. You okay?” If that idiot had harmed her in any way… He tried to relax his grip on the phone before he crushed it.
“I’m fine but I’ve had my bag stolen in the club. I had my car keys in my pocket but now I’ve broken down too,” she sobbed. “I managed to flag down a passing family and they let me use their phone to call you. Will you send a cab for me or something?”
“Where’s the kid?” he demanded.
“Who?”
“Jake,” he rushed. “Where’s Jake. Did he just leave you?” His grip was tightening again on the phone.
“No, he left at the same time as me. I told him I’d be fine and he grabbed a lift home with some of his work colleagues. I thought I’d be okay. I had my car keys and I reported the theft to the club. The car started fine and I drove off but then it just shuddered to a stop.” He heard her voice crack at the end as she sniffed.
“Okay, I’m coming to get you. Where are you exactly?”
Jumal dressed quickly and called for his chauffeur. He hadn’t used the service much over the last year and hadn’t actually wanted Pippa to know that he had ready access to a driver and car to ferry him around. He preferred her company, although he did risk life and limb every time she drove.
He didn’t allow himself to relax and take a deep breath until he had her back safely.
***
“Th-thanks for coming to get me,” she stuttered sheepishly on the drive back to his apartment. “I guess these things don’t just come in threes, hey.”
“Huh?” he asked, tilting his head. “What things?”
“Bad luck.” She lifted up her hand to count them off. “First the whole drugging thing, then my tyres, then my bag gets stolen and now my car breaks down. I’d call that bad luck. Glad I’m not getting on a plane any time soon,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“What do you mean tyres—plural? It was more than one?” he asked confused, looking over at her, concern etched on his face.
“Erm, yes,” she confirmed. “It was all four of them if you can believe that. Someone slashed them. Kids probably although I’m not sure how they would have got past the guard on the gate.”
Jumal reached for her arm. “What?” he shouted. “Why didn’t you tell me it was all of them? I just assumed it was a puncture. One,” he said holding up his index finger for emphasis. “I didn’t look at the invoice the garage sent though,” he told her, clearly annoyed by the omission, and dropped his head. “You should have told me, Pippa,” he admonished.
“I’m sorry!” she yelled back at him. “I guess I just didn’t think you’d be that interested,” she added, lowering her tone.
Jumal went silent. He was brooding about something so she just let him get on with it and thought about a nice long hot bath, a glass of wine and some chocolate fudge. Surely she deserved that after the night she’d had.
***
She walked straight into the kitchen and took two glasses from the cupboard, poured them both a large glass of red wine and took a long drink from her glass. Her back was to Jumal who she just knew had taken up position on a bar stool, elbows likely resting on the table, chin balanced on his interlaced fingers. Classic Jumal pose. She didn’t want him to see her hands were shaking or wait for him to start lecturing her once again so left his glass where she’d poured it, refilled her own glass and sailed from the room decisively.
“I’m going for a bath,” she called out to him as she walked into her bedroom.
“What was that?” she heard him shout from the kitchen but she didn’t have the energy to talk any more. She slammed her door with a little more force than she intended and gathered the necessities for a long, hot soak. iPod. Wine. Chocolate.
She let out a satisfying moan as she lowered her body into the hot, oil-infused water. She finally turned on the jets.
Jumal’s bathroom was one of her favourite rooms in his apartment. Huge free-standing bath positioned on a raised marble plinth with a huge walk-in shower that would easily fit five people in it—if you were into that kind of thing—and a his ‘n’ hers basin set in a matching marble counter. The intimate floor lighting was relaxing and there was a television fitted into the marble. Apparently Jumal liked to watch sports in t
he bath. That little nugget had genuinely surprised her—not that he loved watching sport, but that he liked taking baths!
Pip loved her baths, really loved her baths and could spend hours in one given the opportunity. The rest of the apartment was typically male: lots of chrome and functionality, minimalistic to the extreme. Black sofa and chairs, flat screen the size of a small car.
She popped on her new headphones and closed her eyes to relax. Bliss.
She screamed as the overhead light burst on, blinding her. “Aaggghh, bloody hell, Jumal.” She screamed again, ducking as much of her body as possible under the water without wetting her headphones as she dragged them off her ears.
“Agh, shit, Pippa, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in there. I thought you were in your room,” he offered, indicating with his thumb over his shoulder, and then took a moment to peer around the dim room. “In my defence the light wasn’t on and I did knock just to make sure.” He looked around the room and gestured with his arm. “What’s with all the bloody candles?”
“Yeah, well I had the soddin’ headphones on and the candles help me relax.”
She watched his eyes narrow on her body, which had risen slightly out of the water.
His facial expression changed to one of bewilderment as his brows narrowed and he pointed. “Is that a glass of wine floating in there with you?”
She tried to cover herself with her hands. “Do you mind?” she cried, her eyes wide.
“Not at all,” he responded, glibly, leaning his body against the wall and crossing his good arm over his chest. He smiled like a cheeky schoolboy.
His Irresistible Darling Page 14