Page 22 of How to Win the Wild Billionaire

Bay had heard of the ball—it was one of the premier social events on Cape Town’s social calendar. The tickets were stunningly expensive, hard to come by and were snapped up months before the event. The ball raised funds for numerous causes throughout the city, including HIV/AIDS clinics, literacy and school feeding programs.

The attendees were the most influential, richest and powerful people in the country, including politicians, kingmakers and captains of industry.

“This year is the centenary anniversary of the ball—my great-great-grandmother hosted the first ball at The Vane in 1921—so Radd, and Brin, had better bloody be there,” Digby stated. “I am not dealing with that lot on my own.”

Bay raised her eyebrows. “I’m sure you can host the ball on your own with one hand behind your back.” He was charming and fully comfortable in every social situation, could work the crowd with ease and make everyone feel welcome and important. Radd, she’d heard, was quieter and far less sociable than his brother.

“I miss him,” Digby said, surprising her with his admission. For a hugely popular guy, Digby rarely spoke about his personal life.

“Radd?” she asked, just to be clear.

“Yeah. It’s been just the two of us for a long, long time and not having him around feels...strange,” Digby quietly replied, his blue eyes a shade darker with an emotion she couldn’t identify. Could it be loneliness? No, that didn’t make sense; Digby was one of the most popular people in Cape Town and, according to everything she’d read, had a hectic social life.

“You’re so lucky to have a lot of friends,” Bay said. She’d been around Digby enough to realize that he was one of those rare individuals who pulled people into his orbit, someone people gravitated to.

Women wanted to be with him, men wanted to be him...

“I have a lot of acquaintances,” Digby corrected her. “I only have a few people I call my friends. Radd, obviously. Muzi Miya-Matthews—”

She’d heard of Muzi Miya-Matthews; he owned and operated some of the best vineyards in the country and was the CEO of a famous wine brand. “The wine guy?”

Digby laughed. “Actually, he has a double degree in business and oenology.”

Impressive. “Anyone else?” Bay asked, wanting to hear more about his private world.

Digby lifted a broad shoulder. “No, not really. I mean, I know a lot of people, but people who know me? Muzi and Radd...that’s it, I guess.”

Bay lowered her glass, her eyes searching his face. He wasn’t being serious, she thought, because there was no way one of the most popular bachelors in the city could only call two people—two!—and one was his brother—a close friend. Hell, she’d been out of the country for years and she still had a few close friends.

Bay moved her legs, tucking her heels under her bottom. Needing to dig deeper, she tossed out another question. “Tell me what you and Radd were like as kids?”

Digby flashed his hot-as-the-sun grin. “Naughty as hell. Jack, because he was so much older than us, tried to keep us in line, and he frequently said it was like trying to herd rabid cats. Basically, we were, to a large extent, feral.”

Bay smiled. She could easily imagine the Tempest-Vane brothers causing havoc. Especially Digby. “But you grew up, eventually.”

“Radd is more grown-up than me—he’s even engaged. I never thought that would happen.”

Digby reached for his whiskey glass and took a long swallow. He sent her a wry look and she caught the flash of embarrassment in his eyes. “I’m trying really hard to be an adult about him and Brin.”

Bay cocked her head to the side. “You don’t like Brin? Why not? She’s lovely!”

Brin and Abby were her friends and she wouldn’t listen to him, or anybody else, denigrate them.

“Relax, spitfire, I’m not about to insult her,” Digby told her, his eyes amused. “I like Brin. I really do, and she’s perfect for Radd.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Digby stared down into his nearly empty glass, his eyes darkening to a shade off midnight. “I’m the problem, Bay. This will sound completely ridiculous since I am a guy in his midthirties but—Jesus.”

Bay waited for him to continue, trying not to show her impatience. If she pushed, Digby would retreat and she’d never know what he was about to say.

“It’s been Radd and me, against the world, since I was fourteen, fifteen years old. As you and the world know, our parents were bloody useless.” Digby’s already deep voice dropped an octave and she heard a slight tremor to his words. Speaking of his past wasn’t easy, but she thought that it might be necessary. Everybody, even sexy playboys, needed to vent.

“Radd is, has been, the only constant in my life for two decades—” Digby’s thick eyebrows pulled together and he drained his glass. “Can we talk about something else? We’ve both had a long day and this is depressing.”

Bay shook her head. “No. Tell me what you were about to say about Radd.” Yeah, she was pushing him but sometimes thoughts needed to be expressed before they festered. Though maybe that horse had already bolted...

Either way, it would be good for him to voice his frustration.

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