CHAPTER TWELVE
THE FALL FROM the granite wall happened in an instant, yet strangely time seemed to slow down as Darcy saw herself plunge downwards. It was like an uncanny out-of-body experience. Her mind flashed—happening but not happening—just like in a dream. Trouble was, she’d lost concentration due to her mind being dominated by the nerve-racking task at hand—which was hopefully to see the charismatic owner of the regal manor and to tell him at last that their passionate affair had produced a son...
Now, the searing knife-like pain that shot through her ankle as she hit the ground gave her something even more pertinent to worry about. Issuing a string of unladylike curses, she rubbed at the offending bone, wincing as the pain intensified excruciatingly. How on earth was she going to stand? The flesh was already reddening and swelling—too fast for her liking. No chance of presenting the poised unruffled appearance she’d had in mind, then...
Even as the realisation descended a heavy-set man in a slightly snug black suit started running towards her from the other side of the splendid gardens. It didn’t take much guessing to deduce that he was a security guard. She reminded herself of her intention to stay as calm as possible, no matter what occurred. Then she made herself breathe deeply to try to control the waves of pain that washed over her.
When the man got to her, his breath hitting the frigid October air in tangible puffs of steam, she saw that his fleshy olive complexion was coated with a fine sheen of perspiration.
Despite her dilemma, Darcy quipped, ‘You could have saved yourself the effort. I’m clearly not going anywhere any time soon. I think I’ve twisted my ankle.’
‘You are a very silly young woman to risk such a foolish thing. I can tell you now that the Sheikh is not going to be very happy.’
Her realisation that he was referring to the man she’d desperately hoped to see made her feel as though she’d slammed into the wall rather than merely falling off it.
‘His Highness is the owner of this property and you are trespassing. I have to warn you that he will not take the intrusion lightly.’
‘No... I don’t suppose he will.’
However her ex-lover reacted when he saw her, it surely couldn’t make her feel any worse than she felt already. Yes, it could. Darcy had been on edge before the accident, never mind now, with the looming possibility of being confronted by him and accused of breaking and entering.
‘Look, what’s happened has happened, and as much as I need to explain my motives for being here to His Highness, first I’m going to need your help in getting to my feet.’
‘That is not a good idea. You need to be checked over by a doctor first. Trying to stand might make the injury worse.’
Staring up at the guard, she witnessed an unexpected glimpse of concern in his chocolate-brown eyes. Then he withdrew a phone from his jacket and spoke to someone at the other end in a language that she was only too familiar with from her days of working at the bank. To make matters worse, the recognition brought with it a vividly searing memory that she expressly didn’t welcome right then—especially when she’d stupidly put herself in the mother of all awkward situations.
And all because she’d been driven to scale a wall she never should have attempted in the first place, resulting in a highly inconvenient injury.
But what else was she supposed to do when the necessity of seeing her former lover was becoming ever more urgent? Her worst fears had come true. He was engaged to be married. No matter how many times she reminded herself of the fact, her heart vehemently rejected the idea as though it was poison.
At the same time Darcy realised the guard really wasn’t going to help her to her feet, he abruptly ended his call. Then he withdrew a voluminous handkerchief from his pocket and proceeded to mop his brow.
‘The doctor is coming. I have also arranged for you to have some water.’
‘I don’t need water. I just need some help to get to my feet.’
Suddenly aware that any further attempts to ask for his assistance were futile, Darcy let her head drop with a grimace and the silken wheat-coloured hair that had escaped from her loosely arranged topknot glided down over her cheekbones. She could only pray it was helping to disguise the shock and fear that were pulsating through her. Surrendering to weakness for even the shortest time was anathema to her. The last time she had done such a thing it had cost her dear.
‘Who is this doctor, anyway, and will he call an ambulance?’
‘You do not need an ambulance. The doctor who is coming is the Sheikh’s very own physician. He is highly qualified and has an apartment here.’
‘Then I don’t suppose I have much choice but to wait for him. I hope he’s got some strong painkillers.’
‘If you need to take painkillers then you also need water. Do you want me to call someone to inform them that you have had an accident?’
Darcy’s heartbeat rapidly quickened. Her mother would hardly take the news calmly. Not when she was apt to turn the slightest mishap into a drama worthy of a soap opera. The last thing she wanted was for her parent’s anxiety to spill over to her little boy and worry him.
‘No. I don’t... Thanks all the same.’ Her smile at the guard was tentatively hopeful, but she suspected he didn’t believe a word she said.
Because of the dwindling daylight, she hadn’t noticed the two figures hurriedly heading towards them from the manor house. But she noticed them now. There was definitely the suggestion of urgency in their quickened steps as they started to run.
Deliberately glancing away, Darcy winced as she rubbed at her swollen ankle.
Would the next people to arrive on the scene be the police, to charge her with breaking and entering?
As if intuiting her distress, her companion dropped down in front of her and consolingly patted her arm. Her blue eyes widened in surprise. His behaviour was hardly typical of any security official she knew of. But just then, when she was feeling alone and frightened, despite her fake bravado, the man’s kindness was appreciated.
‘The doctor will soon tend to your ankle. Do not distress yourself unduly.’
‘I’m not distressed. I’m just angry that I climbed the wall. I meant no harm by it. I just wanted to take a peek at the house in the hope that...in the hope that if I saw the Sheikh I might speak with him.’
Her teeth clamped down on her lip as the man’s perusal suddenly grew more interested, and she found herself hostage to an uncharacteristic wave of self-pity.
With her voice quavering, she said, ‘I read in the newspaper that he had moved here. I used to work for him, you know?’
‘Then if you wanted to see him again, you should have rung his office and made an appointment.’
‘I’ve tried doing that, many times, but I was told by his secretary that he had to agree to it first. She never got back to me, no matter how many times I tried. In truth, I don’t think he even got my messages.’
‘I am sure he did. Perhaps His Highness has his reasons for not contacting you?’
‘Rashid.’
The deep bass voice behind them had them both immediately turning their heads. The impressive Arabian attire of the owner of the voice added to Darcy’s profound sense of shock when her gaze fell upon his features. His sublimely