Page 54 of How To Tempt The Off-Limits Billionaire

“I’ve never known you to be a coward, Triple M,” Digby said, his voice silky with challenge.

God, was he trying to dare him into a relationship with his sister? And was he tempted? He was. He really was.

“I didn’t expect or plan on her. I never expected to feel this way.”

“We all think we can control what we feel but, when the right woman comes along, we’re bowled over,” Digby said. “Radd did, I did, it looks like you have too, M.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Muzi grumbled.

“Neither did any of us,” Digby cheerfully replied before his expression sobered. “But what I can’t forget is that my sister is alone in an old, huge house, probably crying her eyes out because you are a cowardly dipstick. So, are you going to do something about that, abouther?”

Doing something meant telling her how he felt, asking for another chance, telling her that he wanted so much more than he ever had. It meant putting his heart into her hands, taking a chance.

Being brave.

“At the risk of repeating myself, love is scary, Muzi. Terrifying, actually,” Digby told him, his voice vibrating with emotion. “It’s hard, but so is being alone, so is not having her in your life. Choose your hard, Triple M.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHOOSEYOURHARD...

Muzi thought about Digby’s words as he drove over to St. Urban. It was fully dark and his headlights cut through the night, showing him only the next few yards of the road.

But that was okay, he didn’t need to see hundreds of yards ahead, he just needed to navigate what he could see.

It was, he realized, a metaphor for life. He couldn’t see into the future, there were no guarantees that Ro wouldn’t die or disappear, but that was far in the future, shrouded in darkness. He needed to navigate life as it was in front of him, the few yards he could see.

If he wanted Ro, and he did, he needed to live a little more in the present. The past, as Mimi often declared, was a memory and the future was imagination. Only the here and now mattered.

And Ro mattered most of all.

Because he didn’t want to scare her—and because he wasn’t a complete moron—Muzi texted Ro to tell her he was on his way. But his warning would also give her the chance to avoid him and he hoped he didn’t have to start chasing her all over the country. Or the world.

He would but it would be a pain in the ass.

Muzi pulled up in front of the steps leading up to the front door, his headlights catching the small figure sitting on the wall, dressed in a pair of skimpy shorts and a cropped T-shirt. Her long hair hung down in waves and even in that glance he had, he could see her pinched face, her wide eyes.

Her wariness.

He shut down the car, climbed out, and kept his eyes on her as he walked over the gravel drive and up the steps. As his eyes became accustomed to the darkness, he saw her pull her knees up to her chest, her pose defensive.

“What do you want?” she demanded.

He stopped a short distance from her but close enough to realize that she’d recently showered and that her long hair was still wet. And that her eyes were red from crying.

He thought about how to respond to questions and decided that he might as well start with what was important.

“You. I wantyou.”

Ro, her heart thundering in her chest, heard his simple statement and stared up at him, not knowing what to say or how to react. What did that even mean?

How did he want her? In bed, up against a wall? As a fling, his partner or a significant other? Did he want her for now, for the next few months, or forever?

Why did men have to always skimp on the details?

“I think you need to explain that statement,” Ro carefully told him.

Muzi nodded, crossed his arms and widened his stance. He looked big, powerful and intimidating but, even in the low light—the moon wasn’t quite as bright as it had been—she could see the emotion roiling beneath his surface. It was in his eyes, in his tense jaw, in the way his nostrils flared every couple of seconds.

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