Page 13 of How to Win the Wild Billionaire

Bay sent him a small smile and told him to take a seat. “I’ve had an exceptionally crappy day—I’m sorry if I was rude or snappy. Thank you for delivering Liv’s favorite toy.” The next words out of her mouth were the ones he really needed to hear. “Can I offer you a drink?”

He nodded and sat down, stretching out his legs and crossing his feet at the ankles.

“Whiskey or wine?”

“Whiskey would be great, thank you.”

Bay nodded and turned to walk back into the house, narrow hips swinging. She had a truly exceptional ass; Digby couldn’t help noticing.

Needing something to distract him from the party in his pants, Digby looked down at the table, his eyes taking in the upside-down sketch. Recognition flared and he sat up slowly, before twisting the pad. It was a rough sketch of the ballroom at The Vane,hisballroom.

Instead of plain white paint, the walls were covered in a subtle pattern—wallpaper?—and huge, luscious plants sat on simple, stylish pedestals. The curtain treatment was luxurious and sophisticated but not ostentatious...

Digby hauled in a quick breath.

This,thiswas what he wanted. Somehow, with barely any input from him at all, she’d nailed the brief.

Forgetting that it was her sketchbook, that he had no right to invade her privacy, he grabbed the pad and started flipping pages. She’d started a sketch for the honeymoon suite, another room he wanted redecorated, but it was only a preliminary sketch and didn’t give him an idea of what she was thinking. Her next sketch was of Olivia, easily capturing the mischief in her eyes and the perfect curve of her chubby cheek. Bay was a talented artist, he thought, flipping back to the sketch of the ballroom.

Man, she’d completely captured the look he was going for.

Digby heard her approach and didn’t try to hide the fact that he’d been snooping. “Your sketches are amazing.”

Bay’s eyes jumped from the pad to his face and back again. She handed him his whiskey before sitting down opposite him and crossing one long leg over the other. “It’s how I relax,” Bay replied, before taking a hefty sip of her wine. “I needed a distraction this afternoon so I started to sketch.”

He was scared to say it, in case he was making a mistake—she was an inexperienced designer without a track record—but what other option did he have? He wanted the hotel revamped and Bay was the first person who’d come even close to giving him what he wanted.

“I love it—it’s bloody fantastic.” He pointed to the sketch and tapped the paper with his index finger. “That is exactly what I want.”

Almost as much as he wanted her.

Bay’s eyes widened, obviously surprised by his emphatic statement. “It is?”

Digby nodded. “Yeah.” Very much so. Onbothaccounts.

Excitement flashed across her face and her eyes turned a lighter shade of gold. Then the excitement faded, she bit her lip and looked away. “Thank you, I guess.”

Digby frowned, wondering why she looked like he’d popped her favorite balloon. “I’m trying to offer you a job, Bay.”

“I realize that.”

She’d succeeded where many of the best designers in the world had failed. Why was she acting like he’d offered her a lump of coal on Christmas morning?

Digby watched as Bay played with the fabric of her cotton pants, carefully folding it into pleats on her thigh. Her hair fell down the sides of her face and he saw that she was biting the inside of her lip, her thoughts a hundred miles away.

“You do want this job, don’t you? I mean, that’s why you met with me today.”

Bay stood up and stepped onto the tiny-sized lawn, digging her bare toes into the rich verdant grass. She held her wineglass against her chest, her eyes troubled. “Of course I would like the job but—”

Digby folded his arms and waited for her to verbalize her thoughts.

She pushed the fingertips of her hand into her forehead and wrinkled her nose. “I have to be honest, Mr. Tempest-Vane.”

“We kissed so I’m pretty sure you can call me Digby.”

Bay blushed and he worked hard to hide his smile. He couldn’t remember when last he’d seen a woman blush, and he rather liked the fact that she did.

Bay ignored his comment and drew patterns on the grass with her big toe. “I pretty much knew, before I even arrived at The Vane, that I wasn’t experienced, or established, enough to handle the project. I shouldn’t have wasted your time...”

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