Page 28 of How to Win the Wild Billionaire

“Gorgeous,” Digby said, on a low whistle. And at that moment, Bay did feel lovely, appreciated, even a little adored.

It gave her the courage to continue so she crisscrossed her arms, gripped her shirt and slowly pulled it up her chest, revealing her rather prosaic sports bra.

She glanced down and grimaced. “If I knew that we were going to be doing this today, I would’ve worn something sexier.”

Digby shook his head as his eyes traveled up her long legs to her breasts, to her face and down again. “You could be wearing the sexiest, most expensive lingerie known to man and I’d barely notice. All my attention is on the present, not the packaging. I’m taking in your incredibly smooth skin, that incredible shape of your legs—” his hand stroked her hip and slid around to palm her butt “—and you have the most perfect ass I’ve ever seen.”

That had to be a lie—he’d dated models and actresses—but she wasn’t about to argue. And she wouldn’t spoil this moment by comparing herself to his previous liaisons. That way madness lay.

She wanted Digby to drive her out of her mind but not like that!

“Take off your bra, Bay,” Digby commanded, and Bay stepped back to lift it up and over her head, feeling a little self-conscious when Digby stared at her chest. She wasn’t a C or D cup, hell, on good days she was barely a B cup. But the admiration in Digby’s eyes was hard to miss and he groaned when his thumb skated across her nipple, making it pebble.

“Beautiful,” Digby murmured, bending his head to suck her into his mouth. Bay held his head in her hands, moaning with pleasure as he sucked her to the point of pain, before lifting his head to blow on her bud. Then his gentle tongue soothed the tiny sting.

So, so good.

Digby dropped to his knees to place kisses on her flat stomach, dipped his tongue into her belly button and eased her panties down her hips. He nuzzled his nose into her thin strip of hair before going lower, then lower still.

Bay sank into his caresses, utterly comfortable with the intimate act. She trusted him, she thought. Trusted him with every inch of her body, knowing that he’d never hurt her, or push her beyond what she felt comfortable doing. Then, as pleasure began to build and he did something amazing with his tongue, all thoughts faded and she concentrated on the enjoyment only he could give her.

But she didn’t want ecstasy to be one-sided, not this first time, so she urged him to his feet and pulled his towel from his body. She licked a bead of moisture off his chest and lifted her eyes to his as her hand encircled his erection.

“I’m not on any birth control so I’m really, really hoping you have condoms,” Bay told him, dropping butterfly kisses on his chest.

In her hand Digby hardened again—how was that possible?—and he released a small groan. “I do.”

Bay nodded and looked at the bed.

Digby dropped a hard, sexy kiss on her mouth before lifting her in his arms and all but throwing her onto it. She laughed and her breath caught at the sapphire-blue color of his eyes, burning with lust, desire and what she hoped might be affection.

Digby walked up the staircase, carefully carrying a tray, Bay’s cell phone tucked under his arm. Nudging open the door to the bedroom, he found Bay sitting on the window seat in his room, hair wet from the shower and wearing one of his T-shirts, her legs tucked up underneath her. Seeing her there, sitting in the muted sunlight, she looked so...

When no other word would do, he eventually acknowledged the only word that did...

She looked and felt...

Right.

And that scared him senseless.

Digby placed the tray on the bench at the end of the bed and, unable to resist, bent down to drop a kiss on Bay’s wet head, still able to pick up traces of her citrus-and-jasmine scent underneath the masculine smell of his shower soap. Casual affection wasn’t something he engaged in so he had no idea where this need to touch her came from.

Bay sent him a smile and took the phone he held out to her. “Roisin called,” he told her.

Her body immediately tensed, her hand flying up to her chest, and alarm jumped in and out of her eyes. “Oh, God, really? Is everything okay? Is Olivia okay? What did she want?”

“She’s fine, Bay, really. She just called because Liv wanted to tell you that she saw the penguins at Boulders Beach. Liv also informed me that she wants to bring one home. She’s convinced it would be quite happy living in the biggest of The Vane’s pools.”

Her panic subsided but her hand remained on her chest. “Olivia spoke to you? On the phone?”

He nodded and pushed the bench seat closer to the window so that they could reach the tray of coffee and pastries he’d ordered from room service. “She asked to speak to you. I told her you were in the bathroom, not a lie, and she was happy to babble away. I heard about sand castles and birds and that Roisin bought her an ice cream.”

For someone who didn’t want children, and didn’t know how to deal with them, some sort of rapport was growing between him and Olivia. He didn’t seem to be able to resist her and that was, for him, unusual in the extreme.

Digby comforted himself with the thought that he doubted many people in the world could resist Miss Olivia. She was, at three, a force of nature, and he was thankful he wouldn’t have to guide her through the teenage years. He was not that brave.

Give her thirty years, Digby decided, and Olivia would be President of the World.

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