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If she’d been in the apartment she would never have told him, but high up in that expensive citadel, he would never have asked. And maybe that was another thing which being outside did. It freed you from inhibition. It allowed memories to rush back and with them came all the feelings, so that in that moment she was no longer a puzzled new mother, but a bewildered little girl again.
‘There was an ice-cream van outside my house when I was little,’ she said, her voice sounding as if it were coming from a great distance away. ‘I heard the music and went outside to listen—more to drown out the sound of my parents arguing than in any great hope of getting an ice cream.’
‘And did you get one?’
‘Actually, I did.’ She gave a quick smile, because the Sheikh’s calm question meant he was able to slip almost unnoticed into her memory. ‘My father came outside and bought me a cone—the biggest I’d ever seen. A massive thing heaped with pink and white ice-cream with one of those flaky chocolate bars sticking out of the top. I was surprised because he would never normally have done that and it made me wonder why he was there, in the middle of the day, when he should have been at work. He kissed me on top of my head and said goodbye in a funny kind of voice, and I remember watching him walk down the road just as my mother came flying out of the house.’
‘And?’ he prompted, into the silence between them, which was broken only by the far-off sound of children playing.
She shrugged. ‘My mother told me he was leaving. That he had another little girl with someone else—a new daughter he loved much more than me. She said some other stuff, too—stuff I’ve done my best to forget—and then she had a complete meltdown. Actually, so did my ice cream,’ she added flippantly as she stared at the sun-scorched grass, willing her eyes not to fill with tears. ‘Amid all the drama I’d completely forgotten about it and it fell off the cornet and lay on the pavement in a big, creamy puddle.’ It had been the end of her childhood and the beginning of a new and very different phase, where she had become the mother, and her mother, the child.
‘Jazz,’ said Zuhal softly. ‘Are you crying?’
She looked up, surprised by the sudden touch of his fingertips to her face. When had he moved close enough to touch her?
‘No,’ she answered proudly. ‘Crying is a waste of time.’
Was she imagining the gleam of understanding in his black eyes, or was it a case of just seeing what she wanted to see? A pulse began to jump at her temple as he rubbed the pad of his thumb against her chin and that simple brush of skin against hers reminded her all too vividly of the days when their bodies had lain naked together. Jasmine swallowed, praying that he would continue, knowing that if he pulled her into his arms she would not resist. Because didn’t she want that? More than anything? To feel his lips on hers and be locked in his embrace, so she could let his lovemaking melt away all her pain. Wasn’t she sick and tired of the celibate stand-off which had sprung up between them?
The air between them seemed to shift and change. She could feel the sudden tension in her body as he took another step towards her. A flash of hope and longing swept through her as his hawk-like features clicked into focus, when the unexpected sound of her own name made Jasmine jump back in alarm.
‘Jasmine! Hey, Jasmine!’
She turned around to see Carrie, the nosy nanny from the toddler group who today had neither of her twin charges with her. She was wearing cut-off denim hot pants which made the most of what was obviously a spray tan, and a T-shirt bearing the legend Luscious was stretched tightly across her generous chest.
Jasmine shot a swift look at Zuhal but he wasn’t ogling the brunette stunner, unlike just about every other man in the vicinity. Instead, he was regarding Carrie with an expression of cool disdain.
‘Well, hi. Fancy seeing you here,’ said Carrie, looking him up and down, the gleam in her eye suggesting she found his disdainful expression both a turn-on and a challenge. ‘You must be Mr Jasmine?’
‘This is Zuhal,’ said Jasmine quickly, only to see the Sheikh glare at her. ‘We were just—’
‘Leaving,’ said Zuhal firmly, cupping Jasmine’s elbow with the guiding clasp of his palm.
‘Oh.’ Carrie pouted. ‘Must you? I see we’re all childless. Thank. The. Lord. Why don’t we go over to that Pimm’s tent by the bandstand? It’s a perfect day for getting sloshed in the sunshine.’
‘I don’t drink,’ said Zuhal repressively.
Jasmine thought afterwards that it was a pity Carrie took a confident step towards him because her slightly predatory action was misinterpreted as one of aggression by his phalanx of bodyguards, who immediately swarmed from behind various trees, to surround them. Carrie was blinking at them in astonishment and Jasmine noticed that one of the bodyguards was having difficulty averting his gaze from her heaving breasts.
‘Oh, wow,’ breathed Carrie softly. ‘Now I think I’m spoilt for choice!’
The next few minutes passed in a blur. Jasmine was aware of being virtually frogmarched out of the park and back to the apartment, with Zuhal’s angry words ringing in her ears. And all that softness and understanding she’d thought she’d seen in his face had vanished, replaced by a cold censure which made his eyes glint like steel.
‘I cannot believe that you associate with such people!’ he stormed, as the elevator zoomed them up towards the penthouse.
‘I don’t think she meant any harm,’ she defended. ‘She’s just…just a young woman who likes to work hard and play hard.’
‘She is a predator!’ debated Zuhal fiercely. ‘Who dresses like a tramp! And I do not want my son associating with someone like her—that is simply not going to happen. Do you understand, Jazz?’
‘What, are you planning to vet everyone I come in contact with?’
Grimly, he nodded. ‘If I need to, then yes.’
She hated the way he just breezed in and out of her life, making changes as the mood took him, before waltzing back to Razrastan again. He needed to understand that although she was living in one of his properties, she was still a free agent and she would see whoever she wanted to see. But Jasmine clamped her lips shut, telling herself there was no point in discussing it now, not when he was in this kind of mood.
Yet she felt distinctly flat when he delivered her back to the apartment. His rugged features were still dark with rage as he bid her a terse farewell before striding out of the apartment without another word.
