Buch lesen: «His Irresistible Darling»

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?