His Irresistible Darling - Sarah Randall Page 0,12
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