His Irresistible Darling - Sarah Randall Page 0,45

harsh, overhead hospital lighting. Her eyes traced lower to his beautiful full lips; she couldn’t tear her eyes away from them. Did she dare kiss them? Where the hell had that thought come from? The man was unconscious and anyone could come in—but there was no one here now, she countered to herself, and even if there was, she was his fake fiancée, right? Aggh.

She convinced herself that this would be her one and only opportunity to feel his lips against hers. Hadn’t this been exactly what she had feared never doing when she looked over his motionless body on that polo pitch?

Steeling her resolve, she involuntarily licked her lips and swallowed. She leaned forward tentatively in her chair, testing her resolve to do go through with it, ran her fingers lightly over his lips. No response. And his hand still lay idle in hers. She paused, a hair’s breadth from his lips, and closed her eyes before pressing her lips against his.

What could only have lasted a couple of seconds seemed to last a lifetime and she savoured every moment, the touch and taste of his soft lips. Her pulse raced, heartbeat quickened and lips tingled. She ached to feel his lips move against hers in eager response. She jumped as the machines hooked up to Jumal started to beep loudly.

Pip pulled away in case the monitors brought a nurse into the room, and she traced a finger over her still-tingling lips before finally rubbing them together.

“Okay, girl. That’s enough.” She took another deep breath. “You’re done,” she lectured herself begrudgingly.

Faridah and his parents needed to be here with Jumal. She didn’t belong here. She was an imposter. She stepped out into the corridor. It was time to get hold of the real deal and take a step back. Regardless of how much that was going to hurt.

Chapter Seven

Jumal came awake slowly. He felt like he was floating with the unmistakable scent of Pippa surrounding him, comforting him. Was this heaven?

His gut instinct was confirmed a moment earlier when he’d heard the soft tones of her voice murmuring something he couldn’t quite make out through the grogginess. He could still feel the phantom touch of her fingers on his skin as he flexed his hand and noticed the cannula in his vein, drip attached. Ah, so that was the reason for the fuzzy head. He needed to feel the warmth of her hand against his again. He yearned for it.

He closed his eyes again to recall and licked his lips to savour her taste. His brain had been unable to compute what was happening when he’d felt her lips press against his. His heart felt like it was about to jump right out of his chest. Her kiss hadn’t been a friendly, concerned kiss. He knew the difference. Her kiss was one of frustrated longing mixed with some sadness. His mind whirled. Could she really want him with even half the desperation that he had for her?

All he’d wanted to do as he felt her lips press against his was pull her to him and spend an age worshipping those lips, to savour and explore her until he knew her kiss inside out. To press his tongue against her lips, encouraging them to part, allowing him deeper access. But he hadn’t wanted to jeopardise anything, frighten her off with his raw intensity and desire to possess her fully, finally.

He forced his eyes open again and blinked against the bright lights. He took in his surroundings and noticed the beeping of the machines. He’d fought his body’s natural instinct to pull Pippa against his body and return her kiss, his treacherous heartbeat had raced and he was sure it had alerted her to the fact that he was awake. He was sure the only reason she had made such a move was due to the fact that she thought he was still unconscious. He’d gradually awakened at the comforting touch of her hand against his. Heaven.

His right arm was strapped tight to his chest. He made an attempt to move but a pain unlike anything he’d felt before stopped him in his tracks. Stole the breath from his lungs. Christ, and that was with the drugs that presumably were being pumped into his body from the drip.

He collapsed his head back to the mountain of pillows behind him, exhausted from the small movement and wincing from the pain flaring across his chest. Flashes of the polo match came back to