Page 43 of How To Tempt The Off-Limits Billionaire

Muzi closed his office doors on his words, hoping that he was right to insist that her brothers tell her. And that Ro could handle more awful news.

On Friday, the day after her conversation with Mimi, Ro worked at St. Urban, trying to decide whether she should make the drive to Cape Town to confront her brothers. When she’d called them, both Radd and Digby professed innocence about Mimi’s comment, with Radd stating that Mimi was old and confused. Digby told her that all sorts of wild stories and rumors circulated about their parents and, if she wanted to remain sane, it was best to ignore them.

Ro knew they were both lying.

Mimi wasn’t confused and her offhand comment wasn’t the result of unfounded gossip. She’d heard her brothers’ swift intakes of breath when she raised the subject, heard the forced note of cheer as they tried, using a lot of fake casualness, to dismiss her question. There was something to Mimi’s comment, she was sure of it. She’d tried to call Mimi, to ask her to join her for a coffee at one of the many cafés in town but, curiously, Mimi was ducking her calls.

She needed to know, Ro thought, carrying a box of papers toward the skip that stood under the old oak tree. It was an important piece of the missing puzzle, something that would greatly contribute to her understanding of her birth parents. But nobody was talking.

Even Muzi, when she’d raised the subject with him over the phone, switched subjects. The more they fudged, the more determined she was to find the truth.

And she would—somehow.

Ro heard a powerful engine and turned around to watch Muzi’s car navigate her still bumpy driveway. She glanced at her watch, happy he was, by her count, at least five hours early.

Her heart bounced off her ribs as she dropped the box into the skip and, yanking off her work gloves, ran to meet him, thoroughly overexcited. Damn, she needed him. Preferably naked and on top of her.

Muzi, clutching a stack of papers in his hand, exited the vehicle and Ro threw herself at him. He wrapped his free arm around her and found her mouth, his tongue immediately sliding past her lips. Ro sank into him, pressing her breasts against his chest, pulling his shirt from his tailored suit pants to find his skin.

God, they’d only been apart for five days but she’dmissedhim.

Muzi spun her around and pinned her to the back passenger’s side door, papers fluttering to the ground when his hands slid up her rib cage to cover her breasts. His thumbs brushed over her already hard nipples and he pushed his erection into her.

Well, it seemed like he’d missed her too.

They kissed and groped for the longest time, long drugging kisses that made her forget her name and it was Muzi who eventually pulled back to rest his forehead against hers.

“Hi,” he murmured.

“Hi back,” Ro lazily replied, loving the way there wasn’t space enough for a paper between them. “Did you miss me?”

Muzi pushed his hips into hers and she sighed at how hard he was. “What do you think?” he murmured, dropping light kisses on her jaw.

Ro caught his chin and tried to bring his mouth back to hers but he shook his head. “Seriously, if we don’t stop, I’m going to take you right here and right now.”

The idea of making love outside made her shudder with pleasure. “I’m okay with that.”

Muzi grinned. “I’m not because my farm manager has a crew in the fields, and they are going to be breaking for lunch soon.”

Damn, Ro thought. “There are numerous bedrooms inside, most of which have beds.”

Muzi grimaced. “That would be like making love in a dust storm.” He kissed her nose and pulled back. “We’re adults, we can wait.”

“Being an adult sucks,” Ro grumbled.

Muzi bent down to pick up the papers he’d dropped. He waved the papers under her nose. “Here’s your copy of the signed and notarized lease between Clos du Cadieux and the trust.”

Ro squinted down at the papers and nodded. More paper, she was already swimming in the stuff. “I’ll get it from you later.”

As Muzi opened his car door to toss the lease onto his passenger seat, Ro noticed a group of men coming up from the field. She blushed. If she and Muzi hadn’t slammed on the brakes, the poor men would’ve had to bleach their eyeballs.

Good call, Triple M.

“How is your day going?” Muzi asked her, loosening his silver tie—Hermès?—and rolling up the sleeves of his deep gray button-down shirt. He wore a different watch today, a vintage Rolex.

“Good,” Ro answered, tucking her hands behind her, between her butt and the car, so that she didn’t reach for him. “I spent some time this morning drawing up a list of steps I would have to take to turn this into a boutique hotel.”

She’d told him about her plans for the house and he’d listened but not given her much encouragement one way or the other. “You haven’t given me your opinion on whether you think it’s a good idea or not.”

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