Page 44 of How To Tempt The Off-Limits Billionaire

Muzi wore his implacable expression, the one she was coming to hate. She couldn’t read him when he pulled on his “You can’t see into me” cloak.

“I don’t have an opinion on the house, it’s yours to do what you wish.” She started to protest but he cut off her words by holding up his hand. “My biggest question is how you are going to manage the process from the States?”

What was he talking about? Of course she couldn’t do this from the States. She’d have to be here, staying in Franschhoek, preferably in his house. “Obviously, if I decided to do this, I’d have to stay.” Not wanting to scare him, she sought to reassure him. “For at least another six months, maybe a year.”

A tiny frown appeared between his eyebrows. “But then you’d go back, right?”

What did he want her to say? That, yes, she’d go back? Or, no, she wanted to stay here forever? She didn’t know so she remained silent, hoping he’d help her out by giving her a hint on what he wanted. Where he saw them going.

She hated being in limbo, not knowing which way they were heading. She coped better with people, and life, when she knew where she stood, how to get from point A to point B. She wasn’t a person who could waft in the wind.

Sometime soon, she and Muzi would need to define their relationship so that she could envision the road ahead. But did she have a right to ask that of him when she didn’t know what love was, what it meant or what it could be? She could love him, she admitted. Probably did already. But did that matter when she couldn’t define where and how to place that love, where and how to let it grow?

Damn, she was so confused. But she was sure of two things: she and Muzi needed to talk—sometime soon—and that she only wanted to stay in South Africa if she could be with him.

Living in this country, without him, would be untenable.

Muzi watched her eyes, saw the confused thoughts jumping in and out of all that dark blue. He could, if he was stupid enough to do so, take some comfort in the fact that she seemed to be as rattled by what was happening between them as he was, but it didn’t negate her words.

She might want to delay her departure, but she would, at some point, now or later, go back to LA. Her life was there.

His was not.

“I’d appreciate your input on whether it’s feasible to turn this place into a guesthouse or boutique hotel, Muzi,” Ro stated, her tone subdued but her voice clear.

Muzi gave himself a mental slap. He was a businessman and she, at the very least, was his friend. A friend who didn’t have any business experience where he had lots.

Muzi sighed and turned to look at the house. The contractors had painted the exterior, and the windows were clean, and the house seemed happier, more cheerful. Man, he was losing it if he was giving inanimate objects human traits.

“This valley already has a lot of hotels, Ro, so it would have to be pretty special.”

Ro nodded. “It needs something to set it apart from the rest, something to encourage people to stay here. So many wine estates have restaurants and coffee shops, galleries and gift shops, I don’t want to imitate them.”

An idea popped into Muzi’s head, born out of a conversation he’d had earlier in the week with Pasco, who’d bitched to him about having to return to New York. Pas was tired of working sixteen-hour days and, having won every award he possibly could, was over the finicky, stressful world of fine dining in New York. He wanted to kick back and relax...

Would Pasco consider returning to Franschhoek and opening a smaller version of his NYC restaurant here? At St. Urban?

He could only ask. But he wouldn’t mention his idea to Ro, not until he spoke to Pasco. He didn’t want to get her hopes up.

“Let’s sit down this weekend and draw up a business plan, crunch the numbers,” Muzi suggested.

“I have no idea how to draw up a business plan,” Ro reluctantly admitted.

“I do,” Muzi assured her. He turned to face her and gently gripped her chin and jaw with the fingers of one hand. “But that will only be after I’ve had my way with you, several times.”

There was no way he could concentrate on doing anything pertaining to business until he’d rid himself of the gnawing need to have her under him, over him, up against a wall.

First things had to come first.

“I can live with that,” Ro said before lifting her mouth to receive his hard, brief and openmouthed kiss. Thinking that there was no time like the present, he spoke again. “Shall we get going, then?”

Ro glanced at her watch and shook her head. “I wasn’t expecting you this early and the gardening crew is working a half day. They should be done in fifteen minutes or so. You go home and I’ll lock up behind them and I’ll join you there as soon as I can.”

He shook his head. “I’ll go and inspect the vines while we’re waiting,” Muzi told her, happy to be in the fresh air, feeling the sun on his face.

Ro nodded. He was about to turn away when she put her hand on his arm to stop him. When he looked down into her face, he saw the determination in her eyes. “Muzi, I also need to talk to you about us, where we are going and about what Mimi said. Also, I think she suspects who I am.”

Damn, he’d been hoping to dodge both those bullets. No such luck.

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