His Irresistible Darling (22 page)

Jumal was perfectly comfortable. He sat crossed-legged on the floor, talking with the older men who seemed to look to him for advice. They listened attentively to what he had to say—not that she could understand any of it. It just seemed that way. At one point, Jumal had shocked her with his exultant laughter and wide grin as he patted one of the men on his back exuberantly. Despite the fact that he was probably the youngest of the men partaking of the pipe, the others watched him as if he were the most important man in their camp. The role of a sheik was a revelation to her and it was clear that it wasn’t just a title; it was an important position and Jumal enjoyed his time here. It seemed like a “time out” from the day-to-day routine back in the city. No matter what she might have wished for the future, it was evident that Jumal would always be needed here.

They stayed for over an hour and she spent time showing the younger children how to sketch with a pencil. It was something that her mother had taught both her and Matt when they were younger. In turn they showed her the soft leather bracelets they made to sell in the local market. Eventually, Jumal motioned that it was time to leave. After offering her thanks she followed Jumal and they waved at a young boy who was shepherding goats back into their pen.

“Thank you for bringing me, Jumal. That was truly amazing, certainly one for the scrapbook memories,” she said, as he guided her back towards their car. She turned to take another quick photo with her phone.

“You’re welcome. I love—” he paused briefly “—er, that you wanted to see it and share it with me. Thank you,” he added softly, before lightly running his fingers over her cheek and touching her scarf. “You look beautiful by the way.”

As they strolled back to the car he gazed down at their joined hands and said, “I suppose I should at least be grateful that I landed on my right side.”

She looked over and shielded her eyes from the low setting sun with her free hand. “Why’s that?”

He dropped his eyes again to their joined hands. “So I can hold your hand while you drive us around,” he explained, as if this was perfectly obvious, before looking up to meet her eyes and adding mischievously, “
chauffeur
.”

***

After another twenty minutes or so of driving, during which Jumal had held her hand over the middle console, he instructed her to pull the car over and park alongside four other four-by-four vehicles.

Pip looked out the window at the surrounding darkness. “Where are we?” she asked, confused.

“You’ll see,” he teased vaguely, opening his door and coming round to open hers. “Shall we?” Jumal asked, as he chivalrously offered her his left arm. Pip took it happily and allowed Jumal to walk her towards what looked like a cave with a dim light radiating from inside.

“We’re eating here?” she asked sceptically, peering out the side window.

“Hmm-hm. Trust me. If I know you at all, you’ll love it.”

Pip let out a sharp breath as they entered the large cave. Her mouth dropped open with surprise. It was an actual restaurant, although unlike any she had ever frequented, and they were escorted to a bar area and seated with menus and drinks. It was a genuine cave, warmed in the day through the absorption of the sun’s blistering heat in the rock. She could smell the warmth of the sandstone. She kept gawping around the area to take in the unique setting. There were only five tables in the intimate restaurant area, which was set lower in the cave, down several stone steps carved into the cave floor. The cavernous room was lit with only natural candlelight from table candles, larger candelabras scattered around the floor and torches mounted on the cave walls. It created a romantic, otherworldly feeling, like something from the pages of
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
; she half expected their waiter to be Puck.

***

Pip was so content she felt like she should be curled up on Jumal’s lap purring rather than concentrating on her driving. The meal had been wonderfully romantic; she’d eventually stopped noticing the sideways glances from the other guests. They had giggled as they shared their food and more stories of growing up and right through to her university studies and his setting up his own successful business.

She felt sorry for the young boy who’d been sent off to university in England, his every action supervised and controlled by minders employed by his father. Even though most of his friends were enjoying the freedom that usually came with tertiary education, Jumal had to focus on his studies almost all the time. He’d told her how he’d found it difficult to settle at first; he felt swamped and overawed by all the people and the unrelenting fast pace of life in England. He’d told her how he was used to being able to simply mount his horse and head off for the day, unlikely to come across another person. That was almost impossible in most areas of England.

He’d admitted to her that he was actually quite shy and had begged his father not to send him away from home, up until leaving for university. Then he and Matt had become friends and Matt had encouraged Jumal into fancy dress to get out for the odd nights in Oxford and Cambridge and further afield, and they’d both made the rowing team, which gave him some limited degree of freedom. His father had confirmed his agreement to him taking up the sport.

The wheel suddenly jerked under her hands, shuddering and pulling to the side. Jumal sat up straighter and let go of her hand as she managed to guide it to a controlled stop. Jumal looked over at her worried expression and offered her a reassuring smile. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

After a few moments on her own, strumming her nails on the wheel, she grew restless and curious and got out to investigate.

She found Jumal at the back of the car, resting on his haunches, his good arm pressed against the side of the car as he looked at the nearside back tyre.

“What’s the problem?”

He looked up at her from his lower position, concern etched on his brow.

“We’ve got a puncture,” he told her, raking a hand through his hair. “And it’s not a run-flat tyre.”

“Oh right, phew, I thought we’d hit something. So I guess we don’t just call a garage out here then, hey?” she joked, looking around the deserted desert.

“No. No phone signal out here in the desert anyway,” Jumal told her and she caught the worried expression on his face before he hid it.

“Right, well, I assume you’ve got a spare. Can’t we just change it?” she asked innocently.

“Er,” Jumal mumbled as he straightened and brushed the dust from his trousers with his good arm.

She cocked her head to the side. “Tell me you have a spare.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve got a spare—” he nodded “—but I can’t change it,” he admitted, somewhat sheepishly.

“Oh I know, your arm ‘n’ all,” she said pointing at his lighter strapping. “But I can change it if you tell me where the spare is in these cars, and the locking wheel nut.”

“
The what?
” Jumal asked, squinting and shaking his head in confusion.

Pip stood back and crossed her hands over her chest and let out a sigh. “You have no idea how to change a tyre, do you?”

He shrugged and blushed at her challenge before finally shaking his head. “I was never shown. Hell until a year or so ago I had a permanent chauffeur.”

She stalked back to the passenger seat and rummaged around in the glove compartment before declaring her success and returning to him. “Okay, well
this time
, you get to assist me, Aldabbagh.” She handed him the wheel nut clinically, just like he’d handed her that spoon back in his kitchen.

***

Jumal took complete advantage of the circumstances as he stood back, watching Pip at work and admiring her backside as she bent down to inspect the huge tyre. She’d instructed him to stand behind her and point the flashlight she’d found in the boot along with the light from his phone. Did he feel less of a man letting his woman change the tyre? Nope. He was all in favour of it. He’d take charge of the cooking; she would take care of all things automotive. Seemed a fair division of labour to him!

“So how come you know how to change a tyre?” he called out, moving his head to look around at what she was doing.

She looked back over her shoulder as she crouched on the ground, positioning some kind of contraption under the car and bending to check it again.

“Don’t bother me while I’m positioning this jack, Aldabbagh, or I’m likely to break your car—” he shut up promptly “—and stop moving the light,” she complained.

After a few minutes she sat back on her haunches, blew her fringe from her eyes and rubbed the dust off her hands. “Right. Here goes nothing,” she said as she applied her foot to the contraption and began to pump it, miraculously raising the back right-hand side of the car from the ground.

“You need me to do that?” he felt obliged to offer but she seemed to have it all under control.

She threw him an “
Are you kidding?
” look back over her shoulder and shielded the light from her eyes before confirming her thoughts with a shake of the head.

“So how come you can do this?” he dared to ask again.

She shrugged as she continued to pump her foot. “Dad showed me. The farm’s trucks were always getting flats and I insisted on knowing how to change one. People have underestimated me most of my life,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“How so?”

“I guess it started because I had attentive parents who spoilt me rotten, an old brother who doted on me and who I could twist around my finger, as you correctly guessed, and I had Mrs H who was always there for me too. People just wanted to look after me my whole life and I grew up seeing the best of the world and completely naïve to the reality. My first real taste was the bullying and then later my parents dying so quickly after each other. Even Matt mollycoddled me and pulled me out of university for a while so he could keep his eye on me after their deaths. Although as you know, my head was all over the place and I guess that did give me the chance to set him up with Ana.”

Jumal didn’t want to interrupt with any questions whilst she was happy to talk, although his mind was whirling with them…

“I saw this opportunity as another chance to do something on my own, for me, to be independent and show that I can get by just fine on my own.”

He couldn’t hold back any more. “But you’re amazingly independent, Pippa. I’ll admit that when you first started I had my concerns about all the teasing and pranks, but you’ve gone over and above my expectations. You’ve done more than you’ll ever know for my company.”

She paused briefly at his earnest statement before continuing with her task.

Eventually she appraised her hard work, seemingly pleased that the car was sufficiently raised, and took the wheel nut thing from his hand and attached it to the flat tyre. She attached a longer straight implement she’d gotten from the car along with the spare. Her dress was ruined with stains from the spare wheel and sand, and he made plans to take her shopping for a replacement.

“Okay. This is the bit where we pray that these weren’t put on with a pneumatic drill or else we’re screwed…”

She eventually, somewhat begrudgingly, turned to him after several unsuccessful attempts to turn the long instrument, including jumping up and down on it. She seemed slightly peeved that his greater weight managed to do the trick and it finally gave under his weight. She seemed satisfied by his assurances that she had loosened it for him. After what seemed like an eternity all the nuts were loosened and Pippa managed to pull off the old tyre, replace it and retighten all the nuts, putting her entire body weight into tightening each one. She declined his offer of assistance, knowing that his left hand alone would be next to useless.

Finally, job done, she sat back on the ground, dwarfed by the car and clearly exhausted as she wiped a hand over her brow. He bent down at her side and took off the agal, using his headdress to wipe her brow, cheeks and sore hands, and planting a kiss on her reddened palms. “My hero,” he murmured between kisses.

***

As she steered the car towards the ranch house down the long drive, Pip noticed a new car parked on the circular drive. She felt Jumal’s body stiffen slightly and his grip on her hand tighten.

“Who is it?” she asked, both confused and concerned by his reaction.

She heard him take a deep breath and pause before answering her through gritted teeth. “My parents.”

She stepped out of the car, having parked, and Jumal came to her side quickly and took her hand to help her. She offered him a smile in the hope he would return it. He didn’t and she was now officially worried.

He gripped her hand tightly as he escorted her back into the house and into the large living room, featuring floor-to-ceiling tinted glass doors, which opened up fully. She loved it.

Mr and Mrs Aldabbagh were seated on the large sofa in front of the unlit circular fireplace and fancy extraction hood, which was the centrepiece of the large room with its natural wooden flooring.

“Mother, Father,” Jumal greeted them coolly, bending to plant a kiss on his mother’s cheek before offering his hand to his father. “This is Pippa Darling. Pippa, this is my mother, Madeleine, and my father, Taymuller.”

His father was staring icily at her and then started speaking in Arabic.

“English, Father,” Jumal demanded, presumably for her benefit. Really she would rather not hear what they were about to talk about.

“Where is Faridah?” his father demanded, standing up. “Her father called me to say that you called off the engagement. What is all this nonsense about, Jumal? We ended our tour of the Far East to come back and find out what’s been happening and why you have embarrassed the family.”

“I have called the engagement off,” he informed them unemotionally.

Pip heard his mother take a sharp intake of breath. Oh God, she hoped she wasn’t going to faint. Maybe she had better just leave them to it. She started to slowly back away but Jumal gripped her hand tightly to stop her escape. “You stay with me,” he told her firmly, before glancing down at her and offering her a reassuring smile, running a finger over her cheek. “I missed a spot.” Apparently he hadn’t managed to clear all the oil and dirt smudges from her face. God how embarrassing.