Falling for her boss…

Pippa can’t believe her luck. Not only has she landed a job as a PA in a Dubain firm for her final year at uni, but she’ll also be working for Jumal—an old friend of her brother’s, who she’s had a childhood crush on since for ever. It should be perfect—twelve months of sun, sand and swooning over the boss!

The reality isn’t quite so glamorous. Not only is her employer demanding and uptight, he’s also considerably older than her and engaged to somebody else. It’s hopeless. He’s weighed down by expectation and responsibilities, while she is feisty, carefree and full of fun. They are simply not supposed to be together.

But when Pippa’s twenty-first birthday night out ends unexpectedly in a sinister twist, Jumal knows he has to protect his friend’s little sister at all costs. When he moves her into his apartment to keep her close, could filing for the boss turn into a fling with him after all?

His Irresistible Darling

Sarah Randall

Copyright

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2015

Copyright © Sarah Randall 2015

Sarah Randall asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

E-book Edition © June 2015 ISBN: 9781474028325

Version date: 2018-07-23

SARAH RANDALL

lives with her family in Lancashire and firmly believes that woman can survive on a diet of hot bubble baths, chocolate, red wine and a good romance book—preferably all at the same time.

To my husband, the finest runner of bubble baths, procurer of chocolate and pourer of the vino. I love you like orange Smarties.

For the written record, I accept full responsibility for the police incident in France. Je suis tres desole!

Can’t wait for our own senior “gap” year and I promise to keep the helpful driving suggestions to myself.

To my Mum and Gemma – the best Guinea Pigs ever!

Contents

Cover

Blurb

Title Page

Copyright

Author Bio

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Endpages

About the Publisher

Chapter One

“PIPPAAAA!!!”

In the chart of “Pippa Darling’s Top Ten Bad Decisions” this one was right up there. Not number one, oh no, but definitely right up there and definitely ahead of number five, featuring the time she’d borrowed her brother’s ten-day-old Porsche for a trip into Leeds for an evening lecture and introduced it to a beautiful ancient oak tree. The car was a write-off, she was fine, but the proud oak still bore the scars and she insisted on yelling an apology to him each time she drove by. In at number four was the time she ignored her mother’s warning and decided that DIY tanning was absolutely the way to go before her high school graduation prom. A non-mover at number three consisted of a teenage break-up with Jimmy Stears (as a direct result of the aforementioned DIY tanning incident) and a night where a bag of giant chocolate buttons, a tube of Smarties (okay, three tubes of Smarties), a jug of premixed mojito and a mobile telephone were never going to be a good combination. Drinking and dialling: lesson learned. A new entry at number two would be her decision to come and spend months away from her home and her family in the oppressive heat of the Middle East, truly bonkers for a country girl more used to the frigid winds of the North York Moors, but still not enough to take the coveted number one spot held by a non-mover for the last, oh, four-hundred-odd weeks. Arguably a crush wasn’t really a conscious decision though…right? It was just an annoyance, like that Bryan Adams song—

“PIPPAAAA!!!”

Pip rolled her eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh as she pushed back from her computer desk with both hands and briefly looked to the heavens. Over the last couple of months, she’d grown to hate her name when it was being yelled at the top of her boss’s voice. Even if said voice, when not bellowing at her, was the sexiest panty-wetting accent she had ever heard and could cause her body to have chills even in the aforementioned heat of the midday sun. Damn the man, aka “The Crush”.

“Huh,” she said, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and peering over her desk at her friend and co-worker sitting opposite. “Care to take a guess at what I’ve done or haven’t done this time?” Standing, she straightened her pencil skirt and grabbed her pad and pen. “Do you think if I ignored him he might go away?” she asked wishfully, tapping the pen against her chin.

Melina looked up from her screen and offered a supportive tight-lipped smile. “Good luck, honey. We’ve got an office sweep going on who’ll kill the other first and with what office implement, so don’t let me down. I went with Miss Darling, in his office, with a blow to the head using the hole punch!”

She strolled down the short hallway, passing the large glass-fronted boardroom and pondered why she’d ever reasoned that working for Jumal Aldabbagh would be such a coup. Maybe she’d hit her head harder than she thought when she’d fallen from her horse last Christmas. It would explain a lot, like why she couldn’t stop having naughty thoughts about the bloody annoying man, despite her best efforts. Was there a pill to take for it?! Seriously, weren’t crushes supposed to be over and done with once you were out of your teenage years?

She let out a short humourless laugh and shook her head as she recalled their meeting last December when she’d used her powers of persuasion and excellent negotiation skills to convince Jumal to take her on for her year working in industry as part of her degree.

“Please, please, please, please, pretty PURLEEEASE, Jumal,” she’d begged, while jumping around him like a caffeine-addicted Tigger.

“No,” he’d responded curtly.

But no Darling would give up that easily.

Unperturbed, she’d continued, “But you’d be getting an almost business graduate as your PA for free, and I know Greta’s left you in the lurch.” She’d tilted her head. “Please.” She’d batted her lashes shamelessly.

“No.”

“Why not?” she’d pressed, hands on hips, stepping directly in front of him to stop his escape.

“Because I don’t want to and I don’t have to explain myself.”

She’d continued to bounce around him as he’d tried to dodge her and walk away.

“But it would be good PR for your company. You know, a good deal and you being supportive of young business talent.” So okay, she’d been blowing her own trumpet slightly, but she’d continued undeterred. “And it would show everyone who hates you—” she’d paused at his icy questioning stare and held her hand up “—in a purely business sense of course,” she’d added quickly, “that you are in fact human.”

She’d grabbed his forearm to stop his long stride. “Please, you won’t regret it. I promise.”

She only had herself to blame, she thought, coming back to the present and taking a deep, soothing breath, not bothering to knock as she entered his large office. “You called, sir?” She knew he hated it when she called him “sir” so of course she did it all the time. She pushed her glasses back up on the bridge of her nose in a useless attempt to distract herself and calm her racing pulse. The glasses made her look even younger than she was, or so she’d been told. She just hoped that it meant he wouldn’t yell at her for quite so long this time. She closed the door behind her so that the whole office wouldn’t have to hear today’s rant. Then again, an open door would give her a quicker escape route…

“What’s this?”

She jerked her head back up to see Jumal pointing to his laptop screen, not even bothering to look up and acknowledge her presence.

Look at me, notice me, she begged silently, but quickly cut off her ridiculously needy thoughts.

She closed the distance, ignoring the fabulous twinkling of the Persian Gulf vista from the top of his glass empire. At times when Jumal was out of the office, she loved standing at his floor-to-ceiling tinted windows to try to make out the tall buildings of Dubai across the Gulf. Dubai was always busy with a mixture of smaller local fishing boats, dwarfed by the larger luxury yachts of the fabulously wealthy inhabitants of Dubain and its close neighbour. There were huge super tankers ferrying oil from the terminals, and of course the city-sized naval ships in the docks of JAA Enterprises just up the coast.

Just a few more months then you’re done, she chanted to herself. And then you can cause him bodily harm, she added with satisfaction, knowing that Luke, another one of her brother’s friends, who was reputed to be the best criminal lawyer in London, would surely enter a successful plea of diminished responsibility.

Jumal finally lifted his head and narrowed his eyes in annoyance, interrupting her murderous musings. “What are you smirking at?”

“Oh. Er, sorry, sir. What did you say?” she asked, shaking her head.

“I said, ‘What. Is. This?’” He emphasised each word individually, pointing at the screen again like she was an imbecile.

She bit her lip and managed to stop herself from replying, “Why, it’s a C.O.M.P.U.T.E.R, sir.” Instead she continued around to his side of the desk.

She peered over his shoulder, lowering her head to see his work calendar. “What am I looking for exactly, sir?” God the man smelt divine. She was powerless to do anything but close her eyes and just breathe him in. Was that just his soap?? She pried her eyes away again, trying to ignore the way his dark hair curled ever so slightly at the collar of his crisp white shirt. Gripping her hands tightly together to stop them from unconsciously reaching out to run her fingers through the dark curls, she guessed he was about due for a haircut. She made a mental note to arrange it.

“Why have you booked Mr Ansari to see me at four today? Why didn’t you check with me first? I have plans,” he barked at her, as he finally turned his head and really looked at her for the first time since she’d walked in. She lost all conscious thought for a moment. Surely she shouldn’t be noticing the specks of gold in his dark green eyes? Shocked, she jerked her head up and away from him. She’d often wondered where he’d inherited his green eyes from until she’d met his mother, a classical European beauty, whilst Jumal’s father had the classic dark hair and brown eyes of most Arab men. Pip had always thought that Jumal was the perfect mix of the exotic and… Oh right, yeah, he was waiting for her to reply.

She cleared her throat in an effort to get her mind off his glorious genetics.

“Well, I er, didn’t know that you had plans. There was nothing in your diary when I made the appointment for Mr Ansari,” she countered, nodding towards his screen. “And he was very appreciative of you seeing him at such short notice. Did you know that it’s his—”

“That’s not the point, Pippa,” he interrupted gruffly, swinging his chair around so that his knees bumped her legs.

She startled and straightened her posture, taking a defensive step back, still clutching her pad to her chest as armour… Or was that a weapon perhaps?

She bit at her lip. “Should I cancel him?” she asked, bowing her head slightly, silently pleading that she wouldn’t have to call and cancel the appointment. Her mother had always laughed at her young daughter’s need to make people happy, but of course she had never known the real motivation behind her daughter’s actions. Pip had always hated confrontation. It brought back painful childhood memories she’d fought long and hard to hide from her family. She would try everything to avoid feeling the disappointment of others, and since arriving on the small independent Gulf island of Dubain, she’d already taken a real shine to Mr Ansari and his large, exuberant and friendly family. They reminded her of her own family, before life had been so cruel to the Darlings.

She slowly raised her eyes from the floor to watch his face closely as he contemplated his decision. Tick tock.

He let out a quick breath. “No. Leave him in the diary. I’ll see him,” he finally agreed. “Just check with me before making any more diary appointments over the next week or so. I’ll be in and out of the office for the next few days tying up the Dubai deal.”

“Yes, sir, of course.” She nodded and turned to leave.

“Oh, and Pippa.”

Damn it, freedom had been so close. She turned back to him defensively, still clutching her pad to her chest, and raised a brow.

He now rested his elbows on the arms of his leather chair and steepled his fingers together across his chest. “I know you call me sir just to annoy me.”

“Sir?” she asked innocently, tilting her head to one side.

“Just so we’re clear, you don’t need to call me sir to get under my skin.”

The inference was clear as she saw him try to hide what appeared to be a wry smile creeping to his lips. She was mortified to feel her cheeks redden in embarrassment. A smile on his face? Nah. Impossible.

She reached for the door handle but turned back, still holding the knob. “Do you have a hole punch, sir?” she asked lightly, tilting her head again.

He opened the desk drawer. “Yes, here. Why?” He held up his hole punch proudly.

“Oh no reason,” she said, shaking her head and smiling sweetly. “Just good to know where you keep it. You never know when I’ll need to punch something.” She turned and skipped back to her desk.

***

As soon as his office door closed Jumal dropped his head into his hands and raked his fingers through his hair. It was becoming a regular feature of his post-Pippa meeting analysis.

He was pretty confident that banging his head on the table wouldn’t help ease some of the pent-up tension and would simply give him more of a headache. A trip to the gym it was then. He reached to loosen his tie and ended up taking it off entirely and opening up his top button.

Since arriving on Dubain last October, Miss Pippa Darling was slowly, but oh so surely, turning his well-ordered life upside down. In fact, if he was being honest with himself, she’d been doing it since he’d met her again the previous Christmas at her family estate in Yorkshire.

A meeting still etched in his mind, and readily available for repeat viewing like a scene from a favourite film. He and Matt had been looking over his newborn foal when her sultry voice had interrupted from the stable entrance…

She had quite literally taken his breath away. At first sight he hadn’t known who she was, yet his entire focus had been drawn to her. A sledgehammer hit to his heart, and yes, a certain lower part of his body too. BAM. He’d had to force himself to turn away from her to greet Ana, Matt’s then girlfriend, now wife. He still couldn’t believe his oldest friend was married, very happily so, judging by how fast the pair had celebrated the birth of their first child.

When his friend Matt had introduced Pippa as his sister he’d felt his heart and stomach plummet, together with the aforementioned lower part of his body. Yes, he’d known that Matt had a younger sister but it had been years since he’d seen her and she’d only been twelve or so. He’d struggled to accept that the femme fatale who had stood before him and hijacked his ability to breathe properly was the same one he’d last seen wearing her dark brown hair in bunches, sporting a mouthful of braces and following her elder brother around like a lost puppy begging for scraps.

“Enchanté, Phillipa.” He remembered, as if it was only yesterday, her shy smile and blushes, the way she’d brushed her hand through her hair and fiddled with her glasses as she had reminded him of their earlier meetings. “Well you have certainly grown into a beautiful swan.” He’d denied remembering her at the time. He couldn’t very well flirt with Pippa. It was Pippa for God’s sake, and there were some lengths even he wouldn’t stoop to, despite his reputation as a ladies’ man. A reputation he wasn’t sure he entirely deserved. Oh good Lord, had he really compared her to a swan… Would he ever learn?

Thankfully Ana had saved him from digging an even deeper hole, one which Matt would no doubt have thrown him into without much debate if he’d been aware of his friend’s carnal thoughts towards his little sister.

Pippa was young, very young, and his friend’s sister. Two facts which, when put together, equalled stay the hell away from her. He’d been trying to keep to that plan ever since, probably the sole reason for his increasingly frequent bad moods and dependency on cold showers. Of course the fact that she was now working for him and would be doing so until June meant that he hadn’t been entirely successful in his campaign to stay the hell away.

Her goddamn perfume drove him wild. As she’d peered over his shoulder to look at his computer he’d had to put his hands under the desk to refrain from acting out his desire to grab her and pull her onto his lap. Her breasts had been right in line with his mouth. Great, now he was getting hard…

“Who’s a swan?”

Distracted yet again by Miss Darling, he hadn’t heard his friend and finance director, Malik, come into the office. He raised his head and sat back in his chair.

“I knocked but you didn’t answer,” he continued.

“So you thought you’d just come in anyway,” Jumal challenged, but his tone was light.

“Yep,” he said, taking a seat opposite Jumal and popping his foot up to rest on his other knee. “So, do I even need to ask who has managed to cause our great leader to drop his head in his hands and mumble to himself about, er, stuff?”

“Nope,” Jumal replied, closing his eyes briefly, then looking up and shaking his head.

Malik laughed. “Well she certainly keeps you on your toes and the place has never been so lively. The rest of your staff love her, my friend.”

He met his friend’s gaze while considering how much to admit. “She drives me crazy, Malik. It’s not funny. I can’t concentrate.” He cursed inwardly. He hadn’t meant to say that last part and be quite so open about the effect Miss Darling had on him. He never showed weakness and Miss Darling was starting to be a weakness. He reached for his glass of water.

Malik raised a brow. “Annnd that would be a bad thing?”

“Of course.”

“Well, it’s only a few more months and then she will be leaving. Unless…”

He straightened in his chair. “Unless what?” he asked, coolly.

Malik shrugged his shoulders. “Well, if she’s that…” his friend paused and waved his hand as if looking for the right word “…distracting, you could always send her home early. I’m sure you could come up with some excuse that sounded legitimate.”

Jumal swallowed hard. The thought of Pippa leaving Dubain and returning to England made him nauseous.

“No,” he said, immediately dismissing the suggestion. “I promised her brother and, well… Just no.”

In actual fact he’d made a few promises to Matt. Firstly, look after her. Secondly, to keep his hands off. He’d never found it so hard to keep a promise in his life. The fact that she often made him want to strangle her one minute and kiss her senseless the next was beside the point. Matt wouldn’t differentiate.

“Anyway,” he said, clapping his hands together, needing to distract his childhood friend and himself from the topic of Pippa Darling. “Where are we up to with the Ansari deal? Miss Darling, PA extraordinaire, has made him an appointment to see me later today. Have you completed the due diligence checks? What’s his financial position?”

“Hmm, well it’s interesting. It’s a good deal and certainly worth going ahead with. His company is financially stable and there’s no evidence of him cooking the books. The fact he’s a local contractor is good for our public relations and local employment, but it’s certainly nothing on the scale of the Dubai government deal. When the ink is dry on that contract your company is going to be recognised as the world’s leading naval shipbuilding company. We’re going to go global. Although I think we should be prepared for the backlash from the Dubai builders. They aren’t going to take it lying down, Jumal. They thought they had that contract in the bag and they’re used to getting their own way. We should expect a backlash.”

“Let them come at me. It’s not like we haven’t dealt with it before. As for going global—” he shrugged his shoulders, nonchalantly “—something for my father to finally be proud of, but I want to ensure that we keep up the investment here, in Dubain. Build on what we’ve already started. That’s my priority now,” he stated, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice, knowing that Malik knew exactly what his father was like.

As childhood friends, Jumal had spent as much time at his friend’s home as his own and he was warmly welcomed. During their early teenage years Jumal’s home life was never openly discussed between the friends. Malik just seemed to know that his friend needed somewhere to have some downtime away from the pressures of an impossibly pushy father with aspirations for his son, which were demanded and never merely suggested. Since returning to Dubain after completing his Oxford University education, Jumal and Malik had re-formed their close bond and Jumal knew he was lucky to have such a confidant as both friend and trusted advisor. In his line of work, his enemies were never far away and the people he could rely on were few.

Feeling somewhat melancholy about his past, he cleared the lump in his throat before continuing. “By the way, Faridah called earlier. She’s received the first draft of the contract and has been working on it over the last few days, ironing out some of the usual discrepancies, so it’s moving along nicely. She’s going to come by and drop it in shortly,” he explained to Malik, gently rocking his chair from side to side.

“Only you would end up with a fiancée who is also a company lawyer.” Malik winked at him. “Some guys have all the luck,” he teased, rising from his chair. “We still on for a workout tomorrow night before hitting the hammam?”

“Sure,” Jumal replied, only partly listening.

“Okay good. I’ll bring down the due diligence report on Ansari when it’s typed up. Let me know how you get on,” Malik called as he walked out the door. Or at least that’s what Jumal thought he’d said…

Wait, why didn’t he just email it over?

Jumal hadn’t been listening, his mind once again focused on a certain long-haired brunette who had perfected the art of driving him crazy. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the mahogany desk, dropping his head back into his hands, his thoughts once again drifting back to their first meeting.

***

“Aaagghhhh. I swear that man is soooo frustrating,” Pip complained as she dropped her pad back onto her desk and slumped dramatically in her chair. She pulled off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose, a habit she’d developed over the last couple of months working at JAA Enterprises. Well, it was better than taking up smoking.

“I never know from one day to the next what the hell he expects from me,” she said, now holding out her palms. “One minute he criticises me for not using my initiative and then he berates me when I do. There is just no winning with him. How the hell Greta put up with him all those years I’ll never know. The woman must have been a bloody saint…or had a secret stash of chocolate and red wine in her drawer.” She paused for a breath. “And I swear if he treats me like a high school kid on work experience one more bloody time I’ll…agghhhhh!”

Her tirade over, she slumped forward and folded her arms on the desk, dropping her chin onto her forearms.

“Well maybe if you—”

“Nah-ah, don’t even say it. I know, I know I make it worse for myself but I can’t help it with him. He drives me crazy.”

She knew she could occasionally act out and overreact. What was it all those child gurus and experts said about kids acting up for their carers? Wasn’t it something about being naughty to get their attention?! She could relate.

Melina looked up from her work. “It’s strange,” she mused, shaking her head. “He’s not usually so cranky. You just seem to bring that out of him too. It’s your special talent!”

She raised her head slightly. “You’re not helping,” she said, deadpan, before dropping it back down with a thud. “Ouch.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Take a deep breath and then come join me for a smoothie in the plaza, my treat, and I’ll fill you in on some of my plans for your birthday party,” she promised, clapping her hands together excitedly. “It’s gonna be amazing,” she added in a sing-song voice.

Pip sat back up and smiled at her passionate new friend. A break away from the office was just what she needed to calm down and the plaza was one of her favourite places in the bustling city. It was located in the centre of the myriad tall, glass skyscrapers of all different shapes and sizes, some of which were on the edge of avant-garde even for her taste. The tables and chairs had plenty of shade provided by palm trees and funky triangular shade sails in bright colours draped over the intimate seating areas from huge white pillars, with an eclectic mix of permanent stores selling the more internationally favoured food and street vendors selling local fare such as fatayer, which was a bit like a meat pie.

Her personal favourite was when she and Melina would get a traditional communal plate of pitta bread, barbequed lamb skewers, hummus and chickpeas, which you could eat using your fingers. It wasn’t frowned upon like back home! The smells were always mouth-watering, but she only allowed herself to indulge once a week and stuck to her packed lunches most of the time. The young children from the office crèches enjoyed having playtime in the cooling water fountains, and Pippa loved hearing their excited screams of delight as they ran around through the jets. She would happily spend her whole lunch break there just soaking up the relaxed atmosphere.

“A nice meal out with everyone would be lovely, really. You don’t need to go to any trouble.”

“Nonsense, you only turn twenty-one once and we’re not just going to let it slip by uncelebrated, especially as I know how much you miss your family.”

“I do,” she confirmed with a sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Matt has Ana and Harry wrapped in cotton wool and there’s no way he’ll let them fly out here. Ah, you should have seen Harry when I spoke to them yesterday on Skype. He’s so cute and has the most amazing mop of red hair. Ana had to struggle to stop George from trying to lick his face all the time. My nephew is gonna be a little heartbreaker.” She couldn’t help but smile when she thought of her tiny nephew.

Melina screwed up her face before asking, “Who’s George and why is he licking Harry’s face?”

“Oh sorry, he’s our Labrador. Part of the Darling family, and he’s eager to protect the newest member of his pack.”

“Ah right. But your friend, er, James was it? He’s still coming out here, right?” Melina practically demanded.

Pip chuckled. “Yeah, bless him. He’s got some holidays coming up and hasn’t travelled around this part of the world so I invited him over for a few days.”

“Great. So remind me why he’s not your boyfriend? If I remember rightly, his Facebook photo shows he’s a real looker and a vet no less. I like a man who works with his hands,” she joked.

“Oh yes, he’s utterly gorgeous but we’re just friends. He’s a brilliant vet too and the only one that Matt trusts to look after the horses and their babies.” She tsked herself and rolled her eyes. “I mean foals.”

“So what you’re saying is that he’s single?” Melina checked, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

Pip smiled at the mischievous glint in her friend’s deep brown eyes. “Well he was when we last spoke, so unless someone has popped up on his radar in the last couple of weeks then yes, he’s still single. Why? You planning on trying to change his Facebook status while he’s here?” she teased.

“Well, no harm in a girl trying now is there?” Melina winked at her as she bit into her apple and Pip couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Ladies. Do you think you might actually do some work today? You’re paid to work, not gossip.”

Both Pip and Melina looked up in surprise as Faridah Omar sailed past their desks swiftly followed by the scent of her expensive perfume. Bloody hell, did she bathe in it?

“And hold Jumal’s calls,” Faridah called, not bothering to look back.

Pip waited for her to get out of earshot before whispering, “God I hate that woman and her new-season Chanel handbag.” She watched Faridah stalk towards Jumal’s office…correction, her fiancé’s office, in her tight black business suit and heels, swinging her briefcase with confidence. “Whenever I see her I think of Cruella de Vil. The woman is a bully,” she continued solemnly, “and I hate bullies.”

Faridah was just so full of her own self-importance, Pip thought. Her feelings towards Miss High and Mighty had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she was also Jumal’s fiancée. Nope, nothing at all to do with that little gem.

What the hell did Jumal see in that tall, beautiful, intelligent woman? Height was so overrated in her opinion. Good things came in small packages…right? Or had her mother just been talking a load of rubbish? God she missed her mother.

***

“I have a charity polo match in a couple of weeks. Can you make it?”

“Oh no, sorry, Jumal. The next few weekends are going to be a real pain for me. I need to travel out to Dubai.”

He watched her sigh as she tilted her head to the side. She looked genuinely sorry that she couldn’t make it but Jumal had been hearing similar excuses for some time now, and he was beginning to think Faridah was having second thoughts about their engagement.

He got the feeling that her heart wasn’t in their relationship any more and possibly lay somewhere else. Not that he had any proof, just a gut feeling. It was strange, though, that this wasn’t what caused him to toss and turn in bed at night. Nope, someone else not a million miles away was the sole cause of that frustration…

“Here’s the contract,” she said, passing the file of papers over the desk and into his hand. “I’ve gone over it and liaised with my opposite number in the Dubai government and hashed out the details. This is the final version ready for signature. No need to check it. I’ll set up a joint meeting for it to be signed,” she told him as she fiddled with her Blackberry. “How’s your diary for a visit to Dubai the week after next?”

“Yeah that’s fine. Speak to Pippa about my availability,” he agreed as he flicked through the file.

“What?” she gasped, looking up from her Blackberry, surprised. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather I just access your diary to make the arrangements? You know how flighty Miss Darling can be and I really—”

Jumal looked up from the papers to see her flick her long straight black hair over her shoulder and pop one hip forward.

Jumal felt his hackles rise. It was one thing for him to criticise Pippa but another for someone else to do it, even if that someone was his fiancée. In reality, he kind of enjoyed Pippa’s feisty attitude. She was the polar opposite to Faridah, who was always calm, cool and collected in everything. He was sure nothing could get under her skin and in the short time that they’d been engaged she hadn’t once caused him to drop his head into his hands and curse like a sailor.

“No,” he interrupted. “It’s Pippa’s job to sort out such things. You can liaise with her. She’ll be fine.”

Faridah huffed at him and waved her hand. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll see you at your parents’ place tonight for dinner. Your mother called me earlier. Eight o’clock sharp. Wear your grey pinstripe suit and pale blue dress shirt,” she ordered as she turned away from him.

He narrowed his eyes and watched her stride purposefully towards the door.

“And for pity’s sake put on a tie,” she called over her shoulder before closing the door.

He hadn’t missed the fact that she’d come and gone without so much as a kiss or embrace. Hell, they’d barely made eye contact during their entire conversation…and he wasn’t placing the blame for the lack of intensity entirely on her slim shoulders.

Jumal hated being told about such arrangements third-hand and at the last minute. He’d had it with people making decisions about his personal life for him. The rebellious part of his character challenged him to get on his motorbike and head out to his home in the desert with his horses, leaving his fiancée and parents to enjoy their evening on their own. It was likely they wouldn’t even miss him. They could try to organise his personal life better if he wasn’t actually there to pass comment or offer an opinion. That was precisely how he’d acquired his social-climbing fiancée… He was the sixth in line to find out about it after both sets of parents and Faridah had decided his future without him over dinner one evening. At the time though, just after he’d returned from his visit to Melville House and being reintroduced to Pippa, it had suited him. A fool proof distraction from where his real interest lay…thousands of miles away in the middle of nowhere in the North Yorkshire moors. Sod it, he thought, and brought up his email account.

***

Pippa scowled at Faridah’s back as she stood waiting for the lift to arrive at the fiftieth floor. She leaned forward in her chair, resting her elbows on her desk and dropping her chin into her hands, pondering if she could get away with accidentally throwing her pen at Miss Tall and Gorgeous’s back. Her devilish scheming was interrupted by the ping of her email.

To: Pippa Darling

From: Jumal Aldabbagh

Subject: Tonight

Pippa,

Lots on with the Dubai deal. Need you to work late tonight. If you have plans you’ll have to cancel. I also need you to call my mother and tell her I can’t make dinner tonight.

Jumal

CEO, JAA Enterprises

Great, just great. She was already convinced that his mother didn’t like her and no doubt she’d somehow be blamed for his cancelling dinner.

She penned her reply.

To: Jumal Aldabbagh

From: Pippa Darling

Subject: Re: Tonight

Yeah sure, no problem about tonight, sir. I’ll just cancel all my plans. (Heavy sarcasm intended.)

Are you happy for me to come up with an appropriate excuse for your mother as to why her only son can’t make dinner?

Pip

Personal Assistant to Jumal Aldabbagh

JAA Enterprises

Having received his positive reply, she picked up her phone and placed it between her shoulder and ear whilst looking over at Melina with a wicked glint in her eye.

“Oh no, I know that look. Whatever you’re thinking isn’t a good idea, Pip. Stop baiting the tiger. He’s gonna turn and bite you,” her friend warned whilst shaking her head.

“What?” she asked, innocently. “He shouldn’t make me do all his dirty work.”

She ignored Melina’s soft reply reminding her that that was actually part of her job description.

Eventually, the butler connected her call to Mrs Aldabbagh.

“Yes, sorry, Mrs Aldabbagh, I know it’s late notice and Jumal is just so sorry but he can’t make dinner tonight. The doctor could only offer him an emergency appointment tonight and of course he needed to get it seen to as quickly as possible. I think Jumal said something about some oozing and all. Yuck.”

Pip had to hold the phone away from her ear at his mother’s retort.

“What was that?” she checked, gingerly returning the phone to her ear. “Oh yes of course you can speak to him, I’ll just put you through. Nice speaking to you again, Mrs Aldabbagh.”

She punched in his extension number.

“What?” Jumal growled at her.

“Your mother would like a quick word, sir,” she said as she connected him.

She leaned back in her chair, spinning it around slowly with her feet, her hands steepled together under her chin as she counted to herself. One, two, three…

“PIPPAAAAA!!”

Chapter Two

“Here you go.”

Pip yelped and jumped in surprise as the large file of papers landed squarely on her desk and scattered her yellow paper notes. She shot a glance up at Jumal’s dark eyes. “Some light bedtime reading. Enough to keep even you out of trouble.”

“What is it?” she asked, looking back briefly at the ominous large file.

“The Dubai contract. Faridah dropped it in earlier and she’ll be contacting you tomorrow to set up the meetings.”

“Joy,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Sorry, what was that?” Jumal pressed.

“Nothing,” she replied, waving her hand dismissively. “So what do you need me to do?”

He paused briefly as if considering his next words. “I want a summary of the salient points on my desk tomorrow morning.”

Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t stop her mouth from dropping open goldfish style as she discreetly tried to glance at her watch. It was already ten o’clock at night.

“Wha—” She shut her mouth—even she knew when to quit and this was clearly punishment for her earlier joke. The man obviously had no sense of humour. In fact, come to think of it, she hadn’t even seen him crack a smile with a colleague in the few months she’d been here. He was so serious—a prime candidate for a stress-induced heart attack.

“Fine,” she said, putting her hands up as she accepted defeat. “I always struggle to get to sleep. This is just the ticket.”

“Good. You ready to go home? I think we’ve worked late enough. Looks like we’re the last ones here,” he noticed, glancing around the empty office. “I’ll drop you at home on the way.”

“Oh, don’t put yourself out,” she mumbled not even trying to hide her sarcasm but then winced at his ice-cold stare.

“Okay, okay, thanks,” she conceded shutting down her laptop.

“Here.” She was startled as Jumal took hold of her jacket and held it open for her arms. She quickly grabbed her bag and the file.

“Lead on, chauffeur,” she added, mischievously.

He simply shook his head at her and headed over to the lifts to press the call button. She finally joined him, muttering under her breath about his lack of a sense of humour but trying to keep her distance and stare down at the floor. Hmm, funny she’d never really noticed the colour of the flooring before and she’d never been more grateful for the soft ping announcing the arrival of the lift.

“After you,” Jumal said, standing back and holding out his arm before following her in and pressing the button for the underground car park.

Pip huddled up against the mirrored wall at the back of the lift and took a deep breath. She hated lifts—hated being enclosed anywhere she couldn’t easily get out of but especially when said enclosed coffin was fifty floors up.

“Are you okay?”

She looked up at Jumal’s question, momentarily surprised by his concern.

“Yeah. I just don’t like small, enclosed places. Childhood trauma caused entirely by your friend aka my brother.” She dropped her head to stare again at the floor.

“Why, what—?” Jumal’s query was suddenly interrupted by the lift plunging into darkness and coming to an abrupt halt.

“Jumal!?” She couldn’t hide the distress from her voice as she fumbled in the dark and dropped her bag and the file to the floor; her hands reached out desperately towards him.

She suddenly felt his hand clasp hers and pull her body towards him.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re fine. The emergency lighting will—ah, there you go. See?” he assured her as the dim overhead emergency lighting came on.

“Look at me,” he demanded, still holding one of her hands and reaching for her chin with his other, gently raising it to meet his eyes.

“Really, we’re fine. They’ll have us out of here in no time,” he said, clearly trying to calm his hysterical employee and rubbing her hand, which she knew was shaking.

She nodded but couldn’t speak or bring herself to let go of his hand as he reached over with his other hand to push the emergency contact button on the brass panel. She looked down at his hand holding hers; she’d never touched his hand so intimately and was surprised at the hard feel of his hands. Where would a man who spent his life in offices and meetings manage to get calluses?

A few moments later a male voice acknowledged their call and assured them that the engineer would be dispatched immediately.

“I guess we wait then.” Her voice still trembled slightly.

“Hmm, better make ourselves comfortable.”

She gulped as he dropped her hand and pulled off his suit jacket to spread it out onto the floor and gestured for her to sit.

He joined her on the floor of the lift and rolled up his sleeves, revealing his tanned, toned forearms and a vintage watch with a black alligator leather strap.

She’d often wondered how he managed to have such a trim, highly toned body. Even through his custom-made designer suits she couldn’t help but notice his fine physique. No woman could and she’d been aware of it since she was twelve and hormones had flooded her body. But Jumal always seemed to be at work, never taking much time off save for his passion for riding his horses and horse racing. Surely you couldn’t get a body like his from just riding horses? Did that have something to do with the calluses on his hands?

Good, she decided, this was a great distraction—thinking about his magnificent body stopped her from focusing on how completely freaked out she was being stuck in here. In this dark, windowless coffin. She swallowed again nervously and shook her head to clear her thoughts. On the downside it was making her rather hot and bothered and she was already starting to notice how warm the small, enclosed space was getting before thinking about her boss.

Oh crap, how long would the air last?

Her dive into a full-blown panic attack was postponed as she became acutely aware that Jumal’s forearm was now brushing up against hers. Had she ever been more aware of another person’s body innocently touching hers and causing shivers? If she had she couldn’t recall and damn it but he was most likely completely unaware of the effect he was having on her—unless of course he could hear how fast her heart was suddenly racing…

“How are you?” he asked, nudging her arm gently.

She blushed and answered somewhat unconvincingly, “What, oh er yeah I’ll be fine.” As soon as I stop thinking about your hot bod.

***

He wasn’t fooled by her response. He knew she was distressed and needed a distraction.

“So what did Matt do to you exactly?” Hmm, he chastised himself silently, great distraction there, Jumal—make her talk about the reason she’s claustrophobic—genius. You should think about running your own international company.

“We were playing hide-and-seek—or rather I’d nagged him to play with me and he eventually gave up and told me to go and hide. I had the perfect spot all picked out in the attic, an old wardrobe that hadn’t been used for years. You know, like something from The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe; anyway he knew exactly where I’d gone and locked me in using a brush through the handles. I screamed for him to let me out but he’d gotten distracted when some girl had called round for him and he went out. Forgot about me. It was hours before they finally found me.” She rubbed her arms in comfort.

“How old were you?” he asked.

“Five.”

“Jesus.” He clenched his fists at his sides.

She offered a tight-lipped smile and tsked. “Well you can imagine how that went down. I know he meant to let me out after a while. He was so upset but since then…” she paused and he sensed a cold shiver reverberate through her body “…I’ve never liked confined spaces, but fifty floors up is fifty floors up and I’m not that much of a fitness freak so…” He felt her shrug her shoulders.

Jumal quickly calculated that Matt would have been about eighteen. The same age as you’d have been, he reminded himself needlessly. Next time he saw his friend, he’d have a thing or two to tell the fool, but she interrupted his thoughts.

She chuckled softly and he glanced over to watch her face. “You should have seen Mrs H chasing him around the house with her broomstick. It was hilarious and I’m sure she only did it to make me giggle. The woman was a lot faster on her feet back then, nearly caught him a couple of times.” She chuckled again to herself, no doubt at the memory. “He made it up to me though—took me out for ice cream and let me buy a toy I wanted.”

He let his head fall back against the wall. “No change there then,” he joked.

“Hey,” she said nudging him back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh nothing,” he said turning his head again to meet hers. “Just that he still adores you and you have him wrapped around your little finger. You and Ana now. Poor misguided fool.”

She shrugged her shoulders innocently. “What can I say?” A cheeky smile adorned her face. “I’m adorable and he clearly loves being wrapped around Ana,” she said, wiggling her brows comically.

Jumal tipped his head back against the wall and looked up at the ceiling. You certainly are, he thought.

“I’ve heard a lot about Mrs Henderson from Matt over the years, met her a couple of times but just briefly. She sounds quite a formidable woman and not someone to have as an enemy.”

Pippa let out a short laugh. “You got that right. I’m sure the best way to sort out any warring factions around the world would be to send her in with a plate of her home-made scones. She’d either bang their heads together until they saw sense or feed them so much they wouldn’t remember what they were arguing about.” She shifted around, presumably trying to get comfortable. “So do you like being an only child?” she asked changing the subject.

“Sure, there was no one to argue with and I was spoilt by my mother but, on the other hand, being the only son of a sheik comes with certain expectations and responsibilities. It might have been nice to share the burden of expectation with a brother but my mother didn’t get pregnant again. So it was always just me.”

And his father had never let him forget the burden of carrying on his family tradition.

“Are you talking about carrying on the family name?” she pressed.

“Not just that, although that’s certainly a major factor,” he admitted tilting his head slightly. “It’s just that it would have been good to have had the option of doing something else with my life—you know, it was always expected that I would be a business entrepreneur, have social standing in our community and take on the title of sheik. I had to fight tooth and nail to keep my interest in horse breeding and racing alive when I was younger. Plus, I kind of felt the pressure to make them proud, seeing as though I was their only child. I carried around a lot of pressure from expectation growing up. I didn’t really have much of what you would call a normal childhood.”

Important decisions about his future such as his education had been made for him by his father, without recourse to him. It was the way it had always been. Jumal’s pleas to stay in the Middle East and attend the same further education establishments as Malik fell on deaf ears. It was simply good fortune that his father’s unilateral decision to send his only son off to England at the age of eighteen for his university education had worked out so well. Jumal had made lifelong friends and finally asserted some degree of independence before the demand for his return to Dubain was issued. Of course that friendship with Matt had led to him meeting Pippa, which had led to his life being turned upside down…

***

Pip had never heard him speak so openly or frankly, and she was intrigued to hear so much about his personal life and decided to press the advantage. A full account of his prolific business achievements could be easily accessed on the Internet but his private life—nada. The little she did know about him had come via her brother who seemed keen to respect and guard his friend’s privacy.

“Still, I bet your parents are proud of you,” she pushed on. “When I spoke to your mother a few weeks ago she was gushing about your future bride and you giving her grandchildren.” A particular conversation that had made her nauseous and want to smash the phone handset on the desk at the same time.

Jumal reached out and grabbed hold of her forearm. “She said that?” But he quickly dropped his grip, no doubt having noticed her startled expression.

“Hmm-hm,” she replied, still shocked by the contact as he dropped his head and brushed imaginary lint from his suit trousers. She subconsciously ran her hand over where he’d just touched her. Other than a polite handshake here and there, this was the first time that he had ever really touched her…

“So tell me more about your role as a sheik. It’s fascinating and so different from anything in my country.”

“Hm, well it’s varied and actually, thinking about it, it’s not too dissimilar to your Mrs H acting as confidante and peacemaker or mediator back in your own Yorkshire village. On a practical level, which is where I prefer to focus, I give advice to the elders on business trading, the economy and how we can make sure that Dubain continues to thrive and develop for the benefit of all our people.” He crossed his ankles before continuing, “Much as it pains me to say, my father was actually quite unique in passing over the title to me whilst he was still alive. Usually, sheiks hold on to the position until their death, unwilling to give up the power even if they are hospital-bound and senile.”

“You don’t get on with your father?” It was a statement but she phrased it as a question, still spurred on for more information from him.

“No. But I don’t want to talk any more about him. Anyway, there’s still plenty of work to do but we’re getting there slowly and the foundations have been laid for Dubain’s future. We’ve come a long way from a small shack as our airport and one hotel to what we’ve got now.”

She tried to hide the disappointment at his decision to put the barriers back up. “Yeah, you can say that again. I saw the framed pictures at the airport when I was waiting to get through passport control. It’s amazing to see the pictures when this was all just desert with small tent villages and fantastic beaches. I can’t believe how much you’ve already achieved in just ten years or so.”

“The villagers are called Bedouins and there are still a few in the desert a couple of hours north of here. When I go there it’s like stepping back in time. The pace of life is slower and their priorities are so different; family is everything. There, you can just draw breath and relax.”

“Doesn’t it all get too much? I mean your work here and then being pulled all over to sort other things out as sheik?”

“No. I find it relaxing. It helps me focus my mind on what I’m trying to achieve for Dubain. We have an increasingly young working population choosing to stay here and raise families now that we can provide work in the shipbuilding yards and ancillary companies—rather than leaving for the usual ports of Dubai or Qatar—and we need to make sure we provide them with a progressive country.” Pip was enthralled as he spoke with such passion. “But I don’t want to achieve it at the cost of our history and tradition. Did you know that the archaeologists have discovered over twenty sites on the island dating back to the late Stone Age?” he asked rhetorically. “We can have both and I’ve put plans in motion to make sure we do.”

“You put so much pressure on yourself, Jumal,” she said quietly.

She watched closely as he dropped his eyes and replied quite as a matter of fact, “It’s all I’ve ever known.”

She felt the need to lighten the mood. “So do you have the costume?”

As she’d hoped, his eyes darted up and she saw the glint of amusement she’d hoped for. “Costume? I take it you mean my dress robes. They’re called dishdash, Pip, and yes, I have them,” he confirmed but at her chuckle he asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Oh nothing, you reminded me of my brother just then. ‘It’s not a baby horse, Pip. It’s called a foal.’ ” she imitated, and pretty well judging by his chuckle. “So, can I see them sometime?”

At his shocked expression she quickly clarified. “I mean, you should wear them for work sometime. Not that I was going to—oh never mind.” She felt her cheeks redden.

“I was very sorry to hear about your parents’ deaths,” he said grimly, bowing his head. “I spoke to Matt at the time but I couldn’t get back for their funerals. They were both lovely people.” Okay, seemed he’d had enough of talking about himself—damn it. Still, she thought she knew a little more about the elusive man who’d been her boss for the last few months and would remain so until June and the end of her final academic year.

She bit her lip. “Thanks,” she mumbled. “I miss them both very much,” she swallowed and bit her lip again to make sure tears weren’t going to fall this time. “Sometimes,” she continued, “I still wake up in the morning and I know there’s something bad hanging over me that I’ve forgotten, you know, something just on the tip that you can’t quite remember—did I drink too much last night? Did I lock my car up? Did I turn off the cooker?” She took a deep breath. “And then it hits me again; they aren’t here any more. It’s horrible.” Her voice was now barely a whisper. “I was in the central bazaar the other day, you know the one I mean?” She checked and at his nod she continued, “Well, I was just mooching around, taking it all in: the smells of the spices, fruit and vegetables, the hustle and bustle, the crazy bartering, and I actually got my phone out to call my mum to share it with her.” Her voice cracked and he caught the shimmer of unfallen tears in her eyes before she swallowed deeply. “She used to love it when I called her whenever I was off travelling because I just had to tell her what I was seeing—let her experience it with me too. She loved that,” she added in a low voice as she sniffed and quickly turned her head to the side to swipe away the traitorous tears that had escaped.

***

Jumal clenched his fists to stop himself from reaching out and pulling her to his body, stroking his hand over her hair as he held her to his chest and comforted her.

He’d witnessed the colour drain from her cheeks as grief swamped her eyes before she tried composed herself. His stomach dropped like they’d hurtled straight down the fifty floors below them and he chastised himself again. He hadn’t meant to make her unhappy. In fact, he thought, raking through their recent interactions, he didn’t think he’d ever seen her unhappy. Teasing, sarcastic, cheerful, infuriating in buckets—but sorrowful? No. Pippa’s whole approach to life and the world generally was completely uninhibited and happy-go-lucky and when she loved, even in the brief time he’d gotten to know her, it seemed to him entirely unreserved and all-encompassing. She was fiercely protective of her family and close friends. Jumal hadn’t been able to comprehend her desire to make herself so vulnerable.

“I guess I really shouldn’t complain about the fact that my father isn’t happy unless he, and my mother to a lesser degree, are trying to interfere and control my life; at least I still have them,” he acknowledged begrudgingly.

He watched her fidget with her skirt from his partially closed eyes, pleased that her tears had stopped falling. She was breaking his heart.

“So can I ask you something? Personal?” she asked from under her dark, wet, spiked lashes.

“I’m intrigued. Go ahead and I’ll decide whether to answer it,” he said, pleased to see the colour had returned to her cheeks.

“You and Faridah.” She shrugged her shoulders and he raised an eyebrow at her before she continued, “What gives? I mean, that was one hell of a quick engagement. Last December you were carefree and single but now… Oh shit!” she shouted, grabbing his arm, her hand flying to cover her mouth. “She’s not knocked up already is she?!”

“No,” he said, removing her hand from his arm. “She most certainly is not,” he corrected sternly. “I’m offended by the fact you’d think I’d be so careless.” If only she knew that she was the main reason behind his out-of-the-blue engagement. “Our families go way back and it was a mutually convenient and beneficial arrangement. Simple as that.”

She stared blankly at him over the top of her glasses before repeating his words back to him slowly, “A mutually convenient and beneficial arrangement?” She shook her head. “Wowzer, Jumal. I didn’t know you were such a romantic. She’s such a lucky girl,” she said sardonically before adding, “I almost feel sorry for her—almost.”

“I can assure you that such arrangements are still perfectly normal and acceptable in my country,” he responded curtly, unsettled by the strange need he had to justify or explain himself, which was not something he did. Ever.

“Well each to their own I suppose.” She let out a quick sigh. “How long have we been in here now?” she asked, tapping her fingers on the floor. “God I’m glad I went to the loo shortly before we left.”

He glanced down at his watch. “Just over an hour. I’m sure it won’t be much longer.”

She reached into her lunch box and took out her uneaten apple and her bottle of water.

She looked up and met his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Now aren’t you glad I was a Girl Guide: always prepared as the saying goes.”

She smiled and took a bite before offering it to him. “Go ahead,” she encouraged.

“No thank you. You eat it. I won’t take it from you,” he said, but his stomach growled in eager response.

“Well your traitorous tummy says you want some, so we’ll share. It could be a while before we get out of here and I promise I don’t carry any nasty germs. I’ve had all my shots. Just one of the perks of having a brother who owns a horse stud farm and a friend who’s a vet.”

He nodded in concession and took hold of the apple and bit into it.

***

Pip was mesmerised as he licked his lips to catch the juice before handing it back to her. She mentally shook herself and took hold of the apple. They finished it off in quick time, passing it back and forth before sharing the water. When the hell did sharing an apple ever become a sensual activity?

He raised a brow in interest. “Have you got anything else in that magic box of yours? Perhaps a bottle of champagne and some caviar?” he asked playfully, nodding towards her bag.

“M&M’s and some Smarties.”

“Bring ‘em on out then,” he said motioning with his hand. “May as well work our way through them and into a diabetic coma. You have a sweet tooth, Miss Darling.”

“One that you should be eternally grateful for—” she held the sweets back in her hand dramatically “—and I am only sharing if I get all the orange Smarties.”

“What’s the difference? They all taste the same, don’t they?” he asked, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

“They do not,” she admonished, shaking her head in outrage.

She proceeded to divide out the sweets between them. “Open wide,” she told him and popped an orange Smartie in as he quickly complied. She blushed as her fingers accidentally touched his lips.

She watched him closely as he mulled over the taste like a sommelier in the posh restaurants he no doubt frequented. “So they do,” he admitted quietly a few seconds later.

“So maybe next time you’ll believe me when I tell you something,” she said, inclining her head, “and stop treating me like a clueless adolescent.”

“Maybe I will, Miss Darling.”

***

“God it’s getting hot in here,” Pip complained as she stood up to strip off her cardigan and threw it down next to the jacket and shoes she’d stripped off long ago. “They said they’d have us out of here shortly and that was over two hours ago.” She suddenly dropped down on her haunches and grabbed at his arm. “Do you think there’s something wrong that they aren’t telling us?” she asked anxiously. “Like in that film.”

“No.” Jumal had closed eyes and was concentrating hard on not looking at her body and pondering just how many clothes she planned to strip off. She was now only sporting a tight pencil skirt, which in no way outlined the perfect shape of her backside, and a vest top with tiny straps. And her perfume was once again driving him wild in such close confinement. What the hell was it? He started to feel sorry for those idiotic dogs in the neighbourhood who ran around desperately with their tongues hanging out when a lady dog was in season!

He jerked his eyes open when Pip began to pace and sing a song again.

“Please Allah, no more singing, Pippa. I beg you.”

She feigned offence and gasped. “I’m bored and hot and did I mention—I’m bored!?” she shouted, frustrated. “How can you be so calm?” she threw at him, plonking herself back on the floor, directly opposite him, their legs lying next to each other.

“Yes,” he said calmly. “I do believe you may have mentioned that you are bored once or twice.” He watched her through narrowed eyes as she fidgeted, strummed her fingers on the floor either side of her hips and puffed out a breath, blowing her fringe off her forehead. He’d noticed she did it often. He really shouldn’t be noticing her charming little quirks.

“So, I never asked how you managed to convince your university to allow you to do your gap year at the end of your course. Isn’t it supposed to be in the third year?” he asked, keen to distract her from the singing.

“Well, after what happened with my parents I wasn’t really in the right state of mind to go away and work in industry for my third year. Matt and I spoke to my course administrator and they agreed that I could spend my third year earning enough credits and doing my dissertation and roll over my placement to the final year.” She took a deep breath. “I just needed to be at home and thankfully they agreed as I had good grades.”

“Hmm.” He nodded in understanding. “And have you any idea what you want to do after you finish your degree?”

“Some ideas yeah.” She pursed her lips and cocked her head to one side. “Ana has asked me to work with her and her business partner in their growing fashion empire. They want me to do their marketing and PR but—” She paused and shrugged her shoulders.

“What?” He inclined his head to try to catch the look in her eyes, which were always so expressive.

“Well, I know I should be grateful and all. I mean so many graduates struggle to get jobs but, well, I guess I just want to make my own mark, you know?” She shrugged again as she finally met his eyes but looked away too quickly. “I mean the job would be perfect for me but I’d always feel that I was only successful in getting it because of Ana and Matt. That’s not what I want.” She fidgeted again and curled her legs up under her body.

“I can understand that perfectly,” he said in agreement.

“You can?” she asked and offered him an appreciative smile; his heartbeat quickened and something odd flipped in his stomach, which had nothing to do with his hunger pangs.

“Sure. It’s admirable and if I had my time over I’d like to do something different.”

“Really?” she asked raising a brow and leaning forward slightly. “But you’re amazing at running your business.”

He smirked at her. “Careful, Miss Darling, you are in danger of giving me praise.”

“Well, you’re only amazing due to the exceptional quality of your PA, of course,” she jibed, returning the grin and sitting back.

“Ah yes, right, of course.” He nodded and stared down at his hands. “And I believe I have you to thank for the beautiful and no doubt expensive gift that I sent to Mr and Mrs Ansari congratulating them on their fiftieth wedding anniversary?”

“Oh. It’s okay, you already thanked me,” she said, waving her hands dismissively at him.

“I did?” he asked, confused, taking a sip from the bottle of water.

“Well, your friendly black AMEX did to be precise. The sales assistant in the lingerie shop managed to convince me to go for the new Booster Bra but I’m not so sure it works,” she mused, peering down her top. Jumal choked on his water; for a second he thought she was about to show him! Bloody hell, it was getting hot in here. He coughed again, trying to clear his throat, and caught her wry smile at him. He could never tell when she was joking.

He watched her root around in her bag, almost afraid to ask. “What’s that?”

“A stress ball. For when I’m stressed,” she replied, squeezing it. “Like now.”

Jumal winced and crossed his legs at his ankles as he observed her continually crush and release the ball in her petite hands. He could almost pity the poor man she eventually married, yet that very thought also made him want to punch the glass. He struggled to understand the dichotomy of his reactions to Miss Darling.

“So did you have a good meeting with Mr Ansari today?” She interrupted his dangerous thoughts.

“Yes it was very productive, once he stopped gushing about you and the present I sent. He has a good company and is very keen to work with us on the Dubai deal. He can supply over seventy per cent of the metal materials we’re going to need and he has excellent connections. Did you know his daughter recently married Daniel Vincini?”

“Yes, I read the gossip magazines, and you also sent them a very thoughtful gift with warm wishes for their future happiness,” she quoted.

The Vincini family were the Italian family in Sicily and ran a very successful private luxury cruise company. Their elegant and exclusive ships were regular visitors in the fashionable ports around the Mediterranean. Despite being dwarfed by the city-sized cruise liners, the Vincini ships managed to hold their own and set themselves apart with a legion of faithful followers.

“Ah right, that makes sense now,” he said, nodding. “Mr Ansari was also gushing about the wonderful painting his daughter and new son-in-law had received. I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about but assumed it was down to you. Thank you.” He bowed his head in concession. “Again.”

***

Wow, actual praise from Jumal; she thought about asking him to say that again so she could record it on her phone.

“It’s what you pay me the big bucks for, right?” she said, grinning at him. In reality, the terms of her placement from Leeds university meant that she wasn’t to be paid for her time with JAA Enterprises, but her expenses could be met and Jumal had paid for the rental of a luxury apartment for her in an exclusive gated community with a membership to the gym and spa; he’d also leased her a cute, nippy convertible, which she loved. She’d briefly tried to say “no” to Jumal’s offers; she had her own money from her inheritance and share of the family business. But she quickly realised that you never said “no” to Jumal Aldabbagh.

“And the plans and arrangements for the polo match, how are they coming along?”

“Great thanks. I’ve got some fab prizes for the auction. Your friends are very generous, even your nemesis. You know the cheeky sod had the nerve to try to get me to go out on a date with him in return for his donation,” she said, her eyes wide as she shook her head. “I think he’s still holding a grudge from that beating your team gave his last time. He doesn’t seem to be a very good loser. I swear even his horse looked pissed off.” She laughed but quickly stopped as she noticed Jumal’s cool stare and tight lips.

“Jumal? You okkaayy?”

“Huh? Oh sorry. I was just distracted by er, something—er so yeah Yves is extremely competitive, always has been, no matter what sport we were playing, and he takes his position as captain of his polo team very seriously. He takes everything personally,” he mused with a shake of the head.

“Well, the caterers, venue and entertainment people are all happy with the arrangements so I’m sure it will be a huge success for the charity.” She paused before continuing, “So, will Faridah be joining you?” She was going for nonchalant but not entirely sure if she’d succeeded.

“No,” he answered abruptly.

Okkaayy—was there trouble in paradise or was it just wishful thinking on her part?! “Oh well, not to worry. I’ll be there to cheer your team on,” she said, happily clapping her hands together but quickly dropped them to the floor. “Hey, what’s that look for?” she challenged at the scowl on his face.

***

Jumal was still trying to recover from his fury following Pip’s disclosure about that suave bastard Yves. He’d save his revenge for the polo pitch…

“Well…” He paused choosing his words carefully so as not to upset her too much when they were in such close confines. “Will you at least try to moderate your, er…exuberance this time? Some of the more elderly ladies were quite shocked when you pulled that wooden rattle out of your handbag and started swinging it around like a lasso, making that racket!” He remembered having to fend off many complaints from the pompous polo membership after her last attendance. He’d only just managed to convince them not to forbid her further attendance.

She threw her hands in the air, exasperated. “So what was I supposed to do, just clap? BORING! Your team had just scored a last-minute goal, winning the match, and Yves’s face was a picture!” She grinned, most likely at the memory.

“Clap, yes, that’s exactly what’s in order. No screaming,” he lectured, as he counted each one off on his fingers, “no yelling obscenities at the other team—” he ignored her widening smile as she was clearly recollecting her behaviour at the last match “—no whistling or—” he paused again “—flashing any parts of your body.” He pursed his lips.

He saw her smile fade as she crossed her arms tightly under her chest, sulking. Unfortunately for him the action only served to push her pert breasts further into fleshy mounds barely contained by her Booster Bra… Was that black lace peeping out?!

He had to force his eyes away from her porcelain skin.

“Fine,” she said, her eyes wide, hands now held up in mock surrender. “I’ll be as dull as the rest of them. Best behaviour. Promise,” she said, crossing her heart with her fingers.

Jumal felt like he was caging a wild bird or like a parent berating his child. He hated the reminder of the thirteen-year age difference between them. He didn’t like it. Not one bit.

Despite her promise, he didn’t believe she could restrain herself. Not because she didn’t intend to, but it simply wasn’t in her nature. It wasn’t Pippa.

He needed to lighten her mood again and he was shocked by this newly developed inner need to put a smile back on her face.

“So, are you excited about your birthday party?” he asked, confident that would bring a smile to her angelic face with its perfect translucent skin. Although he thought she’d gained a few more freckles over her nose and cheeks… He pondered how he’d noticed…huh.

He was pleased that his plan had worked as she looked up and smiled. “Yep. James is flying in from home, so it’ll be lovely to see him again and Melina is sorting it all out.”

An ache in his jaw was the telltale sign that he was grinding his teeth. Who the hell was James and what was his interest in Pippa? Why was she smiling at the mention of this man’s name and, more importantly, what was her interest in him? The guy must be pretty serious about her to fly out all this way. The bloody woman attracted men like bees to a honey pot. He finally managed to tune back into what she was saying.

“She’s such a star. I just wish Matt and Ana could’ve made it—” she shrugged her shoulders “—but with Harry being so young and all it’s just impossible.”

The engineer’s voice stopped him from making further enquiries about this James imposter.

“Hello there, we’re really sorry for the delay but we’ve sorted the problem now so it will just be another five minutes and we’ll have you out, Mr Aldabbagh.”

True to his word, the main light came on in the lift at the same time it started to descend. He quickly jumped up and helped Pippa to her feet and held her jacket out for her again. She in turn picked up his suit jacket and brushed it off before handing it back to him as the doors finally opened. He heard her take a deep breath as she turned to him. “Thanks for keeping me calm in there. I know I was a pain but you really helped.” She pursed her lips. “So, er…just thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I enjoyed your company.”

He had to smile as Pippa nudged his shoulder with hers, a huge smile on her face. “Yeah right.” She chuckled. “You’re such a bad liar. I know you came close to smothering me in the lift with the stress ball.”

***

Jumal opened his car door for her before striding round to the driver’s side and speeding out of the underground car park, anxious to get Pippa home and out of his car. He could smell her scent on his jacket and knew that it was going to linger in his car for the next few days and drive him crazy. Correction: crazier. He’d have to have it valeted again despite the fact it was spotless.

She looked over at him with a quizzical look on her face as they sped through the deserted city streets and out to the low-rise buildings of the suburbs. “What?” he asked.

“You know the way to where I live?” she asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

“Of course,” he replied, like it was obvious that he’d know where all his employees lived. “I went to see it before I rented it for you. I had to make sure it was appropriate.” He shrugged his shoulders, dismissing her question, but hoped she’d just accept his response and assume that his role as boss meant that he’d know where all his staff lived…right?

But he caught her still staring at him from the corner of his eye, seemingly unconvinced by his response. “What?” he asked again, turning his head towards her briefly.

“Nothing,” she said, turning her head back to the front. “I just assumed someone else had sorted it all out. That’s all.” Her voice was quiet and he could barely hear her over the throb of the car’s powerful engine.

Ten minutes later he waved at the gate guard, who clearly recognised him, and pulled up in front of her apartment complex. He jumped out to open her door, offered his hand to help her out with her bag and file and escorted her to the steps of her apartment before stopping and turning to face her, pocketing his hands. “Goodnight, Pippa.”

“Night, sir.” He watched her take the final steps up to her front door but she abruptly turned back and shouted, “Jumal.” She seemed surprised that he hadn’t yet moved away. “Oh, er by the way, thanks for the job, er I mean placement. I know you did it as a favour to Matt, but thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, bowing his head slightly before adding in a lower voice, “but I didn’t do it as a favour to your brother.” My reasons were much more selfish, he silently added as he turned away, sensing her eyes on him from her porch.

Chapter Three

Pip had just started to turn her key in the heavy front door when she felt a presence behind her. She gasped and started to turn before being paralysed as soft lips grazed behind her ear. Her breath hitched but she was held in place by strong hands at her hips, pinning her tightly between the door and a tall, hard body.

“Allah forgive me but I need you.” Jumal. His gruff, whispered voice vibrated against the shell of her ear, made her instantly wet and her inner muscles clench in the most sensitive part of her body. Her knees weakened beneath her but the strength in his arms held her up.

Her hands seemed to move of their own volition to cover his hands at her hips; her head fell back and to the side against his firm chest. Her neck exposed to him. He accepted her silent invitation and took complete control of her body, running kisses up her neck as she closed her eyes and maximised the sensations her body was feeling, unable to turn around.

Someone groaned; she wasn’t sure who but as her traitorous body was responding to his touch like a cat in heat, it was likely her.

“Hmm, so goddamn wrong but I just don’t care any more.” He moaned against her skin as he brushed his chin over the sensitive part where her neck met her shoulder, her body set alight at the feel of his slight stubble—huh, she had the strangest thought that she’d been wearing a jacket earlier. She must have taken it off in his car.

“Going to hell but at least I’ll have tasted you before I go,” he murmured. God his voice was amazing and much better when it wasn’t yelling at her in the office.

She squirmed involuntarily as he moved his hands from her hips to her inner thighs. He used his foot to part her legs further, their bodies so tight that she could feel his body’s excitement against her lower back. She braced her hands against the door and pushed back against him harder, delighted by his strangled moan in response.

For a fleeting moment she worried about her neighbours, but when his fingers moved tantalisingly over her damp knickers all such worries were forgotten…and merely added to her excitement.

“Oohhhh—” This time she knew for certain that the moan belonged to her as he pulled her lace knickers to one side and slid one and then a second finger into her tight slickness.

“Come for me, Pippa. Come now.”

Yes, sir…

The man had magic fingers that were about to make her come apart in less than a minute. Abracadabra one…two…

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!!!!

Whoa whoa whoa, what the hell was that bloody noise? Was it a neighbour’s car alarm?!

“No, No, NO!” she complained as she came violently awake. Her arm shot out aimlessly towards her bedside table, knocking her glass of water and the blasted alarm clock to the floor.

A dream, just a goddamn dream… She felt robbed and utterly cheated. She hadn’t even got to come in her first wet dream!

She slumped back against her pillows and slapped her palms against the duvet, completely deflated but highly aware of the delicious, if unsatisfied, ache between her legs and the sheen of sweat decorating her brow. She shivered involuntarily as a chill swept over her body from the air conditioning and decided to ignore the fact that she’d had a naughty dream about her boss—her brother’s best friend. Nope. She’d think about that later. Much later. It could be filed under “Forbidden Fantasy”.

With a roll of her eyes she remembered setting her alarm early so she could make a start on going over the contract Jumal had thrown on her desk last night.

“Agghh,” she complained to no one, throwing back her duvet and stumbling over her discarded shoes on her way to her kitchen/diner. “Ouch. Bloody shoes,” she cried out as she then stumbled over her lazily discarded bag. She treated herself to a mug of hot chocolate, grabbed the file from her bag and settled herself at her kitchen table, elbows resting, propping her head up on her hands, and decided that this activity might actually cure her infatuation!

***

As his alarm clock turned six a.m., Jumal finally conceded that he wasn’t going to get any sleep. He’d watched the hours tick by since finally getting into bed four hours or so ago, without a wink of sleep.

He absently ran his hand over his head as he made his way to the kitchen to grab a coffee and tapped the note he’d seen late last night from his housekeeper reminding him that she was now away for an extended holiday. She was travelling to California for her daughter’s wedding and to help with the final organisation and hen party or whatever they called it in America. He grimaced and shook his head as he recalled Ana and Matt’s wedding, preceded by the stag weekend in London. He still couldn’t face drinking whisky.

As promised, his housekeeper had filled his fridge and had made frozen meals for him with notes stuck to them telling him how long to microwave. He didn’t have the heart to explain that he could actually cook and enjoyed doing it when given the chance. It was obvious that the woman missed her daughter and Jumal was happy to meet her need to care for him in substitution. Her note also reminded him that the plumber was coming back to fix the guest bathroom water supply and she’d given the spare key to the concierge. “What would I do without you, Maria?” he mumbled, before filling his cup and leaning back against the kitchen counter. His mind wandered yet again back to the image he’d seen in his mind all night. Pippa Darling. Her angel-like pixie face, long dark hair with a fringe she constantly blew out of her pale blue eyes—eyes framed by her strangely attractive Buddy Holly-esque thick black-rimmed glasses. At all of five foot three, she was adorably sexy and in his opinion, her breasts were perfect regardless of whether they were “boosted” or not. He found himself smiling at the image in his head and chastised himself yet again, “She’s too damn young. End of…” He slammed his cup into the dishwasher before heading for the shower.

***

After an hour and a half, Pip’s eyesight was blurred and her head ached. She dropped her head to the table and gently banged it in despair. She decided to shower before coming back to have one last look over the contract and finalise the notes on her laptop. She needed a break. Terms in the contract just weren’t making any sense to her. No doubt they were completely understandable to Miss Tall Dark and Sultry.

As she leaned against the cool tiles of the shower and allowed the hot water to pound over her aching neck muscles she cast her thoughts back to her decision to approach Jumal and take the step of leaving England. She had never been one to take the easy route or allow an opportunity to pass by and even at her relatively young age, she’d travelled both with her parents as a child but more independently once she’d finished her A levels. Her parents were a lot older than most of her friends’ parents but they hadn’t been stifling or overprotective; instead they’d encouraged their daughter in her desires to travel and undertake just about every hobby and sporting activity possible. Whenever she got homesick, which was usually just after she’d spoken to her brother and Ana on Skype, she would mentally slap herself and remind herself just how lucky she was to have such an opportunity.

Matt’s whirlwind romance with the world-famous super model Ana Harper aka her sister-in-law, had taken even her by surprise and made her look closely at her own future. Matt was now a father with another mini Darling already on the way; he was a successful businessman in his own right and had never been happier. She honestly wasn’t jealous of her brother and his new family, never that, but he’d always been there for her, particularly after their parents’ deaths. However, she couldn’t keep relying on him and assuming he would be there to pick up the pieces as she raced through life like a whirlwind. She needed to gather her inner strength and assert her independence once again—make a stand on her own. Even if the very thought of a new environment with new work colleagues in a foreign land and unfamiliar culture had made her nauseous and brought back the panic and dread of her earlier life experiences.

***

“Afwan! Oops sorry, oh pardon me, sorry, afwan! Oh heck was that your bag? I’m so very sorry—agghh—”

Pip sighed heavily and blew her fringe out of her eyes as she finally dropped down into the window seat of the heavenly air-conditioned Metro Rail, letting her bags fall to the floor. She knew she was still blushing and had already apologised profusely to the man sitting next to her in the aisle seat and whose lap she’d sat on as the metro started to depart with a sudden jerk. She was pretty sure she’d also clobbered him on the head with her fully packed lunch box.

She’d had to run for the bloody tram as, being sleep deprived, she’d forgotten the report for Jumal on her first attempt to leave her apartment earlier and had to double back.

She took a deep calming breath and looked out of the window to the long stretch of sun-drenched beach and sparkling deep blue sea. She smiled longingly at the children laughing and running away from the breaking waves. It was a game she and her brother had played on many happy holidays when they were children, before he’d grown too old for such childish games and instead discovered girls and got his driving licence. She loved this journey to and from work on the metro and chose to take it despite having the car.

She was still captivated by the warm colours of the island set in an enviable position just off the coast of the United Arab Emirates. There were pockets of perfectly manicured greenery amongst the cool high-rise glass jungle metropolis but the main colours of the land were the warm reds, browns and burnt orange of the mountains and dunes, which set the perfect contrasting natural backdrop to the business district of central Dubain. The dry heat had hit her like a solid wall when she’d first stepped out of the air-conditioned airport but she’d quickly acclimatised and now shivered when she thought of the bitter, hard winters of her home in the isolated Yorkshire moors—although she did miss the greenery. The people of Dubain were welcoming in the extreme and smiled encouragingly at her when she tried to speak Arabic with mixed success. She rested her forehead against the window.

She was distantly aware of her neighbour clearing his throat. “I’m Jake by the way.” Her napping was interrupted by the sound of an American accent. She turned and met a friendly smile and shook his offered hand.

“Oh hello. I’m Pippa. Pip.”

“Nice to finally meet you,” he said before continuing, “I’ve seen you quite a few times on the tram. I think we must live and work near each other. I’ve been meaning to work up the courage to introduce myself. When you fell into my lap I thought it was as good a sign as any that I should finally say hello. So, hello.”

She felt herself blush again. “I really am sorry about that. I think I fell over that lady’s bag,” she said, nodding over the aisle.

“No worries. Sadly, it’s not every day that a beautiful woman falls into my arms.” He offered her a boyish grin.

“Well, thanks for catching me. So you’re American?”

“Yep. Born in upstate New York. I’ve just moved over here and started work at Goldbergs as a trader; I tried for a New York post but they wanted more experience so I thought I might as well gain it here.”

“Well, welcome to Dubain. I’ve only been her a few months too, so I know it can be quite daunting and difficult to meet people our age.”

As they continued to chat, Pip tried to keep an eye out for her stop. Having nearly missed the tram, there was no way she was going to miss her stop, but she was enjoying Jake’s easy company.

“So have you managed to do any sightseeing yet?” she asked.

“No. Not yet I’m ashamed to say. I haven’t really got my head around the language either.”

“Well, most people have a really good understanding of English. The children start learning it straight from primary school and I think they’re starting to teach their parents too. Just try a few words a ‘shukran’ here and there, and most people will be happy with that,” she suggested helpfully. “Once you get settled, you should definitely take the cable car up to the summit of Mount Gaiza. The views from the top are apparently outstanding; sunset is supposed to be the best time to go.”

He pursed his lips. “You haven’t been up yet?”

“Oh no, erm. I’m not such a fan of cable cars,” she admitted to him before continuing, “I keep meaning to see if there is a track I could drive up and then hike the rest of the way to the summit.”

“Sounds good. Maybe you’d let me come with you. I’m a good hiker. Spent many a happy vacation hiking and skiing in the Appalachian Mountains back home.”

“Yeah? I learnt to snowboard there when I was travelling a couple of years back—at the ski mountain resort. Do you know it?”

Jake’s face lit up. “You’re kidding? It’s my favourite place to ski! Er…so, I was thinking of taking the ferry over to Dubai one weekend and trying out that purpose-built snow centre. Maybe we could do that together too?”

Pip stammered, “Oh er, yeah sure.”

“Sorry. I’m being a pushy American, aren’t I? I just haven’t met anyone yet that’s under the age of forty and that I can speak to without looking like an idiot.”

“It’s fine, honestly, and sounds like a great plan for one weekend.”

“So where do you work, Pip?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Right there,” she said, pointing over his shoulder.

She watched him turn and look over to the tallest of the glass skyscrapers in the distance she had pointed towards.

He turned back to her and arched a brow. “You work for him?” He nodded his head back towards the tall glass tower, his face a mixture of horror and admiration.

“I do indeed. So do you know Jumal?” she asked.

“Oh no, not personally. I’ve just heard about his rep at work. Is he as bad as they all say?” He was looking at her like she was his hero for working with the mighty Jumal Aldabbagh.

“Worse,” she told him, “and if I don’t get off now he’s likely to stab me in the loo with the toilet brush.”

At his bemused look she added, “Private joke.” And she moved to gather her belongings together. She stood and her new friend offered a gentlemanly hand for her as he moved into the aisle.

“Oh, here’s my card,” she said, digging it out of her handbag and handing it to him. “Email or call me. If you fancy it, my friend is organising my twenty-first birthday party next weekend. I don’t have all the details about what she’s planning, but I’ll give you her contact details and you’d be very welcome if you like.”

“Sure. That’d be great,” he said eagerly. “Good to meet you, Pip.”

“And you,” she replied, smiling. “Gotta go, see ya,” she called to him, looking back over her shoulder as she jumped off the metro.

***

“Here you go, sir.”

Jumal glanced up from his work as the file of papers landed heavily with a “thwack” on his desk next to his hand. For the last hour he’d been trying to concentrate on a new business proposition but failing miserably.

He sighed inwardly and pulled his chair closer to his desk, trying to hide his body’s inappropriate reaction to her, which was now annoyingly automatic. He reached for his glass of water on his desk simply to give him time to get control.

“What’s that?” he finally asked, his eyes focused back on his laptop.

“My summary of the Dubai government contract as you asked, sir.”

He looked up to meet her eyes and saw her gulp. Christ was he that scary? He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms and tilting his head.

He raised a brow at her. “You’ve done it? Already, after the night we had?” He didn’t bother to try to keep the surprise from his voice.

“Well, er yes. You said you wanted it done. So it’s done. I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

“You couldn’t sleep either huh?”

“What?” she gasped, clearly startled by his disclosure.

Recovering quickly from his slip, he straightened in his chair and cleared his throat. “Nothing. Okay well, I’ll have a read over this today. That’s all.”

Pip gave him a quick nod and walked or rather stormed back to her desk, no doubt pissed off at him now that he had the emotional barrier back in place and hadn’t even uttered a word of thanks for her efforts in completing the task so quickly. What an ungrateful bastard he was.

***

Pip slumped back down in her chair and began typing impatiently on her computer. She needed to file this feeling for the next time her heart when berserk when Jumal walked by her desk…

“You keep mumbling under your breath people are going to talk, sweetie,” Melina said across the desks.

“I hate him. Ungrateful bastard.”

“Ah right, well maybe I can brighten up your day. Reception called for you whilst you were in there. They have a package for you.”

“A package? But I’m not expecting anything—oooh maybe it’s a present for my birthday from Matt and Ana.” She smiled, pushing up excitedly from her desk.

“Maybe.” Melina smiled at her mischievously. Her friend knew something and wasn’t for telling.

Pip felt some trepidation as she stepped into the lift again; she fiddled with her blouse and straightened her skirt on her way down to reception, assuring herself that her luck couldn’t be so bad as to get stuck again. The engineers had assured her that the problem was fixed.

She let out a relieved sigh as she stepped out into the cool, sand-coloured marble-tiled reception area of Jumal’s elegant building and glanced up towards the cloudless sky, visible through the atrium, and offered a silent prayer of thanks.

Those prayers were quickly forgotten as she spotted Jake nervously pacing and swinging her lunch box. The man was no doubt uncomfortable under the snake-like gaze of the receptionist, also known as the office gossip.

She approached him but he hadn’t noticed her yet so she tapped him on the shoulder. “Jake.”

He spun around to face her, hitting her in the leg with the lunch box. “Oh. Shit I’m sorry!” he blurted out apologetically. “Er, hi. You forgot this in your rush this morning,” he said, thrusting the lunch box at her.

Oh good grief, there was no good way for that comment to be interpreted and news would likely spread around the office like wildfire that Pippa Darling had been with a man! She gently took hold of his arm and led him away from the reception area.

“Thanks, it’s sweet of you to bring it for me. I’m forever forgetting and losing things.” She rolled her eyes and smiled at him and decided that he was definitely cute in an all-American clean-cut boyish way—the polar opposite of Jumal.

“No problem.” She watched him shift his weight from side to side. “Actually, I wondered if you’d like to go and have a coffee with me?”

“Oh, erm, sure that would be lovely. There’s a nice café in the mezzanine near the waterfall; it will have some shade.” She took her lunch box from him and swung it as she walked past reception and called back over her shoulder, “Reeta, can you tell Melina that I’m taking an early lunch? Thanks.”

Oh well, she thought, in for a penny in for a pound.

***

The sparkling waters of the Gulf did nothing to lighten Jumal’s mood as he sat back in his chair, steepled his hands and tried to fight the growing unease settling in his stomach, having analysed Pippa’s review of the Dubai contract.

He’d gone over it again and again to try to allay his fears but without success. There was no getting around it. She’d messed up big time. The only question was whether it had been done deliberately and he found it abhorrent that he couldn’t trust his own judgement on this. Never before had he second-guessed his gut reaction to something but the fallout from this could be catastrophic for his business. He needed a second opinion.

“So,” he said, turning his chair to face Malik who had just finished reading. “Do you agree with me?”

Malik looked up from the papers and shook his head, his face giving away his disbelief.

“I just don’t know why she’d do it,” he said, clearly as shocked as Jumal had been on first reading Pippa’s report and cross-referencing the contract. “She couldn’t have missed it by mistake; it’s too obvious.”

He watched his friend run a hand roughly through his hair before throwing the report back on his desk and slumping back in his chair.

“She didn’t miss it,” he declared, confidently. “She knew it was there and didn’t bring it to my attention intentionally. She’s too good to miss it.” He spat out the last words.

“But Jumal, that’s industrial espionage or something. I mean she’s… she’s…”

“I know.”

“Just—” Jumal watched him shake his head again “—wow. So what are you going to do now? Are you going to call the board in?” Malik asked.

“No. I’ll deal with it myself. Privately,” he added to make sure Malik knew it was to go no further than his office.

Picking up his mobile phone, Jumal ran his fingers quickly over the numbers; waiting for it to connect, he sat back again in his chair, swinging back around to face the view.

“We need to talk… No it can’t. My office, now.”

***

“Jeez, Pip Squeak, you landed on your feet when you got this gig. My work experience was at a pig farm in Halifax. This is beautiful.” Pip smiled back over at James in total agreement and tucked her hair back around her ears, securing it under her baseball cap. Drop-tops were great unless you had long hair, but she loved the feeling of the cooling breeze rushing around her as she drove home along the coastal road from the airport. Of course, it had taken her a while to get used to driving on the wrong side of the road and she’d had occasional mishaps that no one needed to know about…

She smiled over at the friend she’d known for years since he’d become one of the partners at the village’s veterinary practice back home. He was slightly older than she was but they shared a wicked sense of humour and both excelled at teasing her brother mercilessly. It meant a lot to her that he’d taken some of his holiday time to come and visit with her. “I know, right. Wait till you see the pool and gym facilities at the club. You’ll be in heaven—not to mention our beaches,” she yelled, pointing over to her side where the surfers were already taking advantage of the crashing waves.

“Oh, by the way,” he said, leaning forward and rummaging in his rucksack, “here you go, as per your order.”

Pip squealed with delight at the package of sweeties he deposited in her lap.

“I love you, I love you,” she screamed and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Dubain has lots to offer but no good sweets or chocolate. Oh speaking of food,” she said, searching in her door pocket with one hand before glancing down.

“Hey, watch the road, you nutter,” he shouted, grabbing for the steering wheel.

“Here you go.” She handed him a small parcel wrapped in a napkin. “I thought you’d be hungry after the horrid plane food. It’s a local delicacy called fatayer. It’s like a meat pie. You’ll love it.”

He chuckled unwrapping it. “I already love it. A meat pie called fatayer. Ingenious.”

“So I was thinking we could hit the pool and have some fun before you have a little snooze, then we’ll head out to the party. I thought you’d appreciate a sleep after your flight,” she said whilst simultaneously trying to pop the top off her tube of Smarties.

“Sounds good to me,” he agreed, munching on his food, popping his sunglasses on and resting his head back on the headrest. “So where’s your party?” he continued, turning his head towards her, wiping his mouth with the napkin.

“A nightclub at one of the big hotels on the beach. My friend Melina has made all the arrangements. Speaking of whom—” She paused and looked over at James briefly, hoping the guilt wasn’t obvious on her face.

“What? What did you do, Pip?” he yelled, making his voice heard over the wind and crashing ocean and raising his sunglasses to the top of his head, presumably so she could see his suspicious glare.

She shrugged her shoulders. “Nothing much,” she mumbled, her mouth now full of Smarties. “Just helping to speed up the natural course of events. You’re only here for a couple of days and I know you two will like each other so—” she waved her arm in a knowing gesture “—I told her to meet us at the pool. She lives in the same apartment complex. How convenient is that, hey? It’s like fate or something,” she joked.

Once she saw James’s coy smile and slow shake of the head, she knew he wasn’t mad at her. He dropped his shades back down and propped his arm on the car’s door frame. Job done, she thought, pleased with herself. James and Melina would only have to set eyes on each other and bam, the chemistry would be there immediately, sparks would fly, no messing around. If only her own love life were so simple to fix…

Before James could ask any more questions, Pip turned on her iPod connected to the car’s stereo system. Not bothering to try to secure her once-again wayward hair, she sang along to Bob Marley.

She chose to ignore the rib from James about her singing not improving. Nothing could blight her good mood.

***

Jumal cursed as he simultaneously tried to rinse shampoo out of his eyes, fumble to shut off the shower and reach for his ringing mobile phone he’d set on a towel on the marbled vanity.

He managed to answer it, still blinded, before it went to answerphone. He held it in the crook of his neck whilst grabbing the towel to wrap around his hips and dabbing water in his eyes from the sink. Whoever said men couldn’t multitask hadn’t met him.

“Hey Malik, yeah.”

“Oh hey, yeah it’s me, erm, so you know you told me to keep an eye on Pip and call you if I thought you needed to be here for any reason whatsoever?”

“Yeah. Ow shit,” he cursed again. How the hell could this stuff sting so much?!

“Well. I think you should come on down.”

“Is she okay?” he asked, trying to keep calm. Christ what if she needed to get to a hospital or something? He could barely open his eyes.

“Yeah. She’s fine but put it this way: she could head straight to the beach and she’d still be underdressed and er, she’s getting quite a lot of attention.”

“What the hell does that mean? You know what, never mind. I’m on my way. Just don’t let her out of your sight,” he growled.

He ended the call, abruptly cutting off his friend in his rush to dress and get to Pippa.

***

“Where is she?”

Jumal followed Malik’s nod towards the packed dance floor. Jumal craned his neck and shielded his eyes from the glare and dazzle of the disco lights but was still not able to see her.

Suddenly, the crowds parted like the Red Sea.

“Holy mother of Allah. Is that…?”

“Yep,” Malik acknowledged loudly before throwing back the shot he was nursing.

“Why the hell didn’t you call me sooner?” he challenged whilst tracking Pippa’s stroll towards them.

“Hey, Jumal, you came!” she yelled at him over the bass of the music before turning her attention from him. “Malik, you ready to dance with me yet? You promised.” She popped her hip and pouted.

Jumal didn’t move his eyes from Pippa as he placed a restraining hand on his friends arm, knowing his friend would understand his message loud and clear. Malik cleared his throat. “Right well erm, I think I’ll go and get us a drink,” he said motioning his thumb behind his shoulder towards the bar. “Save me a dance for later, birthday girl.”

Jumal thought he caught Malik saying something along the lines of him needing luck as he walked past him to the bar.

“Brilliant fancy dress, Jumal,” she teased. “You’ve got the whole ‘tight-arsed, control freak, big boss man slash relaxed Friday night combo’ down to a tee.” He watched tight-lipped as she waved her hand judgementally as his clothes.

He scowled at her. “And what the hell have you come as? A Victoria’s Secret model?” He inwardly winced. He hadn’t intended for his voice to be quite so aggressive.

“Humph, isn’t it obvious? I’m Halle Berry from the James Bond film and James—” she turned and waved her arm randomly towards the dance floor “—has come as the man himself, although to be honest he didn’t have to make much of an effort, just put on a tux—handsome devil that he is. And,” she went on, “can you believe that he wouldn’t let me strap my diver’s knife to my thigh? Anyway,” she continued, as she punched his arm in what he presumed was supposed to be a friendly way but had a surprising amount of force to it, “get you, knowing about VS. There may just be hope for you yet.” She winked at him.

“So what do you think?” she asked, as she gave him a twirl. “I pretty much nailed it, didn’t I? Well apart from the hair,” she said as she flicked the ends of her hair dismissively over her shoulder. “Couldn’t do much about that with this mop, but my second attempt at applying a fake tan was much more successful. Don’t you think? Jumal?”

“Huh, what?” Crap he’d been caught ogling. Again. “Come on, I think it’s time I took you home,” he told her, holding out his hand.

“What?” she shrieked at him and he automatically dropped his hand. “Are you kidding? It’s my birthday, well my party anyway and I’m not ready to go home, not for a long time.” He knew it wasn’t her birthday for a few days yet. She surprised him by taking hold of his hand and gently urging him forward. “Come and dance with me and then you can keep a proper eye on me like I know my brother told you to.”

Jumal was pleased that she was making her own assumptions about his turning up at her birthday party. For once, it worked in his favour.

“I don’t dance,” he said sharply, shaking his head.

She dropped her hand from his and strangely he missed the comforting contact. He wasn’t a “hand-holding” kind of person, even with his family or Faridah. “You’re kidding?” She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head to the side. God she was beautifully annoying.

“As you have told me on numerous occasions, I don’t have a sense of humour when it comes to you,” he replied, straight-faced.

“Fine, you can just stand like a sulking Muppet and I’ll dance around you like a bloody maypole.” And she was off again, twirling around him whilst holding his shoulders as he kept his focus straight ahead, fighting the need and desire to track her every movement.

“A what?” he asked, when she finally came to a stop.

“Oh never mind.” She sulked again with her hands on her hips. Was she aware that the action caused her perfectly sized breasts to jut out even further? “It’s just as I thought,” she ranted at him.

“What is?” he asked, impatiently. The girl spoke in riddles.

“You’re too old to have fun. You act like an old fart. I can’t believe that I—” she waved her arms dismissively at him “—never mind. Your loss.” And with that she was off, leaving him standing there in the wake of Hurricane Halle, his mouth hanging open like a fish—or to use her earlier phrase, a Muppet.

He tracked her movements again as she laughed and joked with her friends at their table and finished off a long dark drink before she made her way back to the dance floor.

“She didn’t manage to get you dancing then?” Malik enquired as he handed him another beer and took up position at his side.

“Not a chance,” he replied, taking a long swig. He surveyed Malik and shook his head. “So what the hell have you come as and why didn’t you tell me it was fancy dress?”

“Me? Well I’m the American President.”

Jumal looked him up and down and gave him a puzzled look. “Which one?” he asked.

“Any. See, I’m wearing the little stars-and-stripes pin on my suit jacket.” He turned to show him the pin.

Jumal couldn’t help but chuckle. “That has got to be the worst fancy dress I have ever seen,” he teased, smiling.

“Hey, I have a slave driver for a boss and I was at work till late on a deal that’s going to get him in next year’s Forbes richest list. This was the best I could come up with. I thought it was inspired when I saw the pin in my desk drawer. Melina brought it back from her trip to New York last year. And I did try to tell you it was fancy dress but you hung up on me cursing, so—”

Their heads turned in unison towards the shrieks of delight coming from the dance floor as someone appeared to be trying their hand at breakdancing. Jumal had never understood the appeal of spinning on one’s head but then again, as Miss Darling had so eloquently put it, he was an old fart…and right now, yeah, he felt like one.

Chapter Four

Jumal glimpsed occasional flashes of orange on the dance floor but despite being a couple of inches over six foot he couldn’t quite see over all the bobbing heads and writhing and gyrating bodies. Where the hell has she gone? he thought, as he was forced to stand on tiptoe—a fact that grated on him no end.

“Who the hell is that guy?” he growled at Malik, having finally spotted her.

“Which guy?” Malik asked, trying to see through the human medley.

“Which guy?” Jumal repeated incredulously. “That one,” he shouted, pointing, “with his hands all over Pippa.”

“Ah right, that guy. Yeah well he’s the reason I called. Well one of the reasons, the other being I know you promised her brother when she came out here that you’d look after her and I have a feeling the night is going to get riotous quickly.” Jumal scowled as Malik took another swig on his bottle as if needing it for confidence. “Well anyway, she came with him.”

“She came with him,” Jumal repeated in disbelief. “What do you mean?” he asked, unable to stop his voice from rising. Oh this just got better. Not. He raked his hand through his hair. The bloody girl was going to make him go bald if he kept having this reaction to her youthful escapades.

“Just that, well actually she came with two men; one is a tall handsome blond bastard who seemed far too comfortable with his arm around Melina. I can’t see them anywhere.”

Jumal would have analysed his friend’s comments in more detail if he wasn’t completely focused on getting his head around the fact that Pippa had come with a man, correction: two men.

“I think this one’s her date, but I could be wrong,” Malik told him, nodding towards the dance floor. “In fact the rumour mill at the office is that she’s already stayed the night with him.”

Jumal choked on his beer. “Jesus who told you that?” he probed, trying to maintain some dignity as he cleared his throat and continued to cough up his lungs.

“Well, Reeta on reception told Conrad in accounts who told my secretary that he came into the office to bring her lunch box, which she’d apparently left at his place that morning.”

Jumal watched Malik wiggle his eyebrows and smile knowingly but quickly stop and clear his throat as he no doubt took in Jumal’s stony gaze.

Jumal took another swift drink and turned his attention back to the dance floor and away from Malik, but the view of Pippa gyrating her hips with another man was not appealing.

“It’s probably just gossip, Jumal,” Malik suggested, shrugging his shoulders. “You know what the office is like.”

Office gossip or not, Jumal was confused by his reaction to the news about Pippa. He didn’t like it—being confused, the gossip or his reaction. Ah great, more of those alien feelings she brought forth in buckets.

“Well, she looks pretty damn comfortable in his arms and he looks far too smug. He looks about eighteen for God’s sake. What is she dancing with him for anyway?”

“Presumably, because he asked her and he looks about her age, mate.” Jumal was tempted to throttle his friend. “But that’s just my guess,” Malik continued, shrugging his shoulders.

Jumal crossed his arms in front of him to avoid the temptation. “Well, whatever—” he said, shaking his head, knowing he now sounded like a sixteen-year-old, but he was worked up like a coiled spring. Again, only Pippa could shake his apparent legendary control.

“So did the IT team come back to you and confirm that they’d changed all the security access codes and shored up the firewall?” he asked, his eyes never leaving the bouncing orange bikini and the man who was dangerously close to losing his hands if he didn’t remove them from around Pippa’s waist.

“Yep, all done and they’ll continue to monitor over the next few weeks just to make sure there’s no attempt to hack our system.”

“Good.”

“So, erm, are you sure you shouldn’t call in the police?”

“No. We don’t need the negative publicity it would attract—not when we’re so close to signing the deal. I’ve appointed alternative counsel who is tying it all up and I’m going to go out there next week to put it all to bed and get it signed.”

“Okay, still, seems she got off lightly, Jumal.”

“She’ll never work in law again,” he said, his face deadpan and breaking his gaze from Pippa temporarily. “Plus she knows that I won’t hesitate to have a little chat with her parents about what she’s been up to with her friends in Dubai, and that would cause too much family embarrassment for her. She’ll just crawl back under a rock somewhere.”

“And are you okay?” Malik nudged his elbow with his bottle of beer, eyebrow raised.

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?” he replied dismissively, shrugging his shoulders.

He saw Malik purse his lips and nod.

Inwardly, Jumal was still struggling to maintain his composure and keep a lid on his rage following Faridah’s betrayal. After he challenged her, she’d eventually confessed the details of her betrayal to him and broken down in tears. Crocodile tears, he was sure. She’d begged him not to tell her parents of her indiscretion and he’d agreed on the basis that she’d write out a cheque there and then to his charity for the money she’d received from his Dubai competitor to include a default term in the contract which, if not spotted, could have cost his company millions. The naïve idiots had paid her for her treachery in advance. Arrogant fools.

What surprised him most was the fact that the anger he felt towards her was entirely focused on the impact she could have had on his business and employees if she’d managed to pull off the deception—not the loss of his witch of a fiancée. He hadn’t even gotten around to telling his parents yet…

He continued to track Pippa like she was his prey as she and the teenybopper kid she was with headed for the bar area and appeared to be making a start on shots. The intruder hadn’t taken his eyes off Pippa for the last ten minutes. Neither have you, he mocked inwardly.

He stalked towards her across the club until he took up position directly behind her and leaned forward, whispering in her ear to make sure she heard him. “Pippa, I really think it’s time I took you home,” he tried again.

She twirled around to face him, the agitation on her face clear for all to see. “Aghh, are you still here?” She rolled her eyes. “Just go home and put your slippers on and settle down with whatever warm milky drink floats your boat. Me and Jake here—” she cocked her thumb back over her shoulder by way of introduction and Jumal ignored his outstretched hand until the kid got the idea and dropped it “—are enjoying ourselves and I’m off the clock. You are NOT my employer tonight and I am having fun! Do you even know what that is, huh?” He scowled as she brought her index finger up to his right pec. “F” poke “U” poke “N” poke. “Now run off home—” she flung her arm out to point towards the door “—and call my brother and tell him you’ve done as he no doubt asked and checked up on me and I’m fine.”

The girl had no idea she was pulling a tiger’s tail and the tiger was about to bite back.

“Fun? You want fun? How about I throw you over my shoulder and spank your bottom? Would that be enough fun for you?”

He revelled in witnessing her startled expression as she dropped her arm, blood rushing to her cheeks, before she quickly recovered and cleared her throat.

“Well, that would be fun for you of course, but I’m not into that kinky shit, Jumal,” she teased before blowing him a kiss. “Now, either join me for a birthday drink or bugger off home.”

Jumal became aware of the approach of a tall blond-haired man from the corner of his eye. The man casually slung an arm around Pippa’s shoulders. She didn’t flinch at his touch. “This man bothering you, Pip Squeak?” the new stranger checked, before bending down to kiss her cheek. Christ, her head barely came up to his chest. Presumably this was the tall bastard Malik had told him about—the challenger for Melina’s affections—but he was slightly older than Pippa and full of self-confidence.

Had that growl come from him?!!!

“No more than usual and nothing I can’t handle,” she replied, smiling and winking at Jumal before continuing and waving her arm between the two men. “Jumal, this is James. James, Jumal. James is Matt’s vet at the stud. I thought you two might have met when you were over last year.”

“No,” Jumal replied gruffly, knowing he sounded curt as he held his hand out to shake hands. So this was James; James who had flown thousands of miles to see her. Tall bastard.

“Good to meet you finally, mate. Heard a lot about you from Matt,” the tall bastard said, smiling and offering his hand.

Jumal acknowledged the strong handshake from James for what it was—a silent but clear declaration of his territory. His shake said, “Back off, asshole; hands off.”

Yeah well, right back at you—mate. “You too. Welcome to Dubain. I hope you enjoy your stay,” he replied, insincerely.

The tall bastard carried on unperturbed, “So Matt tells me you two went to university together and have been friends ever since. That’s cool.”

“Yes,” he acknowledged, letting out an impatient sigh, his gaze once again turning to Pippa, but it seemed James wasn’t done with the conversation yet. Jumal sighed inwardly.

“I delivered Pandora’s foal, which I believe is here with you now. I’d love to see how he’s getting on before I leave. Are your stables close by?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” he said, reaching into his jeans pocket for his wallet. “Here’s the card for the stables. Call ahead and they’ll give you the tour and introduce you to Apollo. He’s doing very well, has his mother’s wonderful temperament and his father’s strength and focus.”

Pippa had once again turned her back to him, focused her attention back on the shots Jake had lined up on the bar and was giggling at something the spotty teenage kid was saying. Okay, so he wasn’t exactly spotty. In fact he would probably be classed as good looking and he wasn’t a teenager either, most likely in his early to mid-twenties. Malik had been right about that. So all in all, probably perfect for Pippa. Handsome bastard wouldn’t even have lines around his eyes yet. In truth it was just another needless, stark reminder of Pippa’s youth.

But what the hell was it with all these men swarming around Pippa? If any of them thought they were going to get lucky tonight with his—with Pippa, they could damn well think again. He had promised her brother, hadn’t he…

He felt James’s heavy gaze—probably trying to work out what his intentions were towards Pippa.

He leaned forward again to speak into Pippa’s ear. “I changed my mind. I want to dance with you.”

She flicked her hair back over one shoulder before casting a glance back towards him. “Sod off. I asked you earlier and you rejected me. FYI, I don’t take rejection well. Go dance with your fiancée,” she said, tossing back another shot before licking something off her hand, squeezing her eyes closed and shaking her head. “Wowzer, that’s got a kick.” She was giggling again. Just how many of those had she had?

There was only one way he was going to get her on the dance floor.

“What’s the matter? Too drunk to handle me now?” he challenged intentionally, tilting his head to the side and crossing his arms over his chest. The challenge had been laid.

She turned and slammed the shot glass on the bar, giving him a cool look that he supposed was meant to be a scowl but in actual fact was just cute. “What happened to ‘I can’t dance.’?” He fought to keep his lips from curving into a smile at her imitation of him.

He leaned back over to her ear, pleased that the noisy environment gave him a perfect excuse to place his lips so close. “I said I don’t dance, not that I can’t dance.”

She leaned back and propped her elbows on the bar, her eyes narrowing on his as if she was sizing him up for a new suit; he liked her attention on him. He caught the pissed-off look from the kid who looked like some bigger kid had just stolen his lunch money; James, however, was continuing to weigh him up as if for a fight until Melina sauntered up to him and handed him a bottle of beer.

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