His Irresistible Darling - Sarah Randall Page 0,46

him and he groaned. Pippa and the kid, Yves’s smirk, Pippa and the slimeball, Yves and his horse bearing down on him to block him, then blackness.

Jealousy. He was ashamed to admit to himself that he’d been jealous and as a result, he was in hospital having done God knew what to his body. He’d been a hostage to his emotions. An emotion he couldn’t recall ever experiencing. In college, one of his flatmates complained about his girlfriend’s platonic relationship with another chap. Jumal had thought him weak-minded at the time. Now? Well, he had the broken arm or whatever as evidence of his stupidity.

“You’re awake,” Pippa exclaimed as she walked back into the room. Her hand moved to cover her mouth in surprise. “Oh thank God. You’re awake and okay. I’ll get a nurse.” She gestured wildly with her hands.

Narrowing his eyes, he asked, “Who are you?” as she was halfway out the door. She stopped abruptly and turned to him.

“Oh. My. God,” she cried. “You don’t know who I am? Really? Oh heck this is awful. You have amnesia. I don’t—” She was shaking her head as if in denial.

“Pippa, wait—” he started to sit up “—aghh, bloody hell.” He cursed at the pain, clutching at his chest with his good arm.

“What?” she asked, shaking her head, confused. “I thought—”

He winced at the radiating pain. “I was joking with you. Of course I know who you are,” he teased, slumping back down. “And you said I had no sense of humour. Ha.”

“You’re joking?” she reiterated and simply started at him. “You think that’s funny? Really?” she challenged him, her eyes wide, hands on her hips.

“Well—” he paused to clear his throat and swallow “—I did. Right up until now,” he admitted, somewhat sheepishly.

“I’ll get a nurse,” she said and he thought she added something else. No doubt something derogatory.

“Pippa,” he called again. “Leave the nurse for a moment. Sit,” he said, nodding to the chair. “I’m sorry,” he added as she refused to move. “Please just sit and talk with me for a moment,” he pleaded. Had he ever had to beg for anything before in his life?

He needed to find out if she truly felt the same for him as he felt for her. One way or another he needed to know.

She stood pondering her next move before finally conceding and walking to his bedside. “Idiot,” she mumbled and finally took a seat.

“Sorry,” he offered, bowing his head slightly, suitably chastised. “I won’t try to be funny again,” he promised with a wry smile and holding his free hand up in surrender. He was pleased beyond words at the slight curve of her lips.

“Okay, you’re forgiven. No more funnies without my supervision. Got it?”

“Yes, miss,” he agreed solemnly. “So, what happened?”

Her face became alarmed again. “You really don’t remember?” she asked.

“Well, I remember getting thrown but after that.” He shrugged and flinched again. “Agh. I’ve got to stop doing that,” he complained.

He watched her drop her head and twist her hands together on her lap. “Well, you hit the ground hard obviously.” She paused and looked up at him from under her long lashes before offering a small smile and tilting her head to one side. “Oh and then your horse did a tap-dance routine on your chest after you landed. I gave her nine point zero for artistic impression.”

He chuckled and his face creased with the pain from his chest. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts too much,” he begged.

“Serves you right. You…you—” she paused, searching for just the right word “—idiot.” Her favourite word of the day, and he couldn’t argue with her analysis.

“So what exactly have I broken?” he asked, stalling for time.

“Well let’s see,” she began, looking down and counting off on her fingers. “Your clavicle’s got a hairline fracture on your right-hand side, a couple of broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder—” she looked up “—which they popped back in after you had a scan. The doctors on the helicopter—”

He interrupted. “Helicopter?” he asked, genuinely confused.

She pointed her index finger at him. “Ah, don’t even get me started on that one. I was almost ready to beg the medic for a dose of whatever it was they were pumping into you. If your left hand hurts, it’s ‘coz I was gripping it so tightly. Nothing to do with the fall.”

He offered her a conciliatory smile. “Thank you for coming with me. I know that must have been hard for you.” He closed