His Irresistible Darling - Sarah Randall Page 0,15

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