Page 30 of How to Win the Wild Billionaire

“But your dad was running Tempest-Vane at that time.”

“Running? No. Looting the company of all its assets? Hell, yes,” Digby stated. He turned, moving his legs so that they were on either side of Bay’s legs, lifting her calves to rest on his thighs. He smiled when she rearranged his T-shirt to cover her intimate area. It wasn’t like he hadn’t explored her from tip to toe but he wasn’t going to embarrass her by mentioning that. And he liked her modesty, it was a nice change from models who had no inhibition at all.

“I suppose they are the reason why I was, am, such an attention hound,” Digby said. He’d never said that to anyone before and couldn’t believe that he’d voiced such an intimate thought to Bay. Next, he’d be telling her about his nightmare and his dread of Radd dying. The dream had visited again last night, harder and deeper and darker than normal. But instead of seeing Radd’s face in that coffin, the features and body had been indistinct. And scary as hell.

Bay placed the last bite of Danish on the side plate and her coffee mug on the tray. After wiping her fingers with a linen napkin, she placed her hands on his knees and squeezed. “Will you explain that remark, Dig?”

He knew that if he changed the subject she would respect his need for privacy and he considered doing exactly that. Then he saw the sympathy in her eyes and shrugged. “They never gave me any attention so I looked for it everywhere I could. At school, I excelled at sports and worked hard at it because those guys were recognized and acknowledged, respected. I became the class clown because making people laugh was attention. After Jack died, I acted out because any attention, good or bad, was better than none at all.”

He’d admitted so much this morning already—would he regret his loquaciousness later?—so he might as well tell her the rest. “When I left school, I went to the university and nobody cared who I was or what I did. There were so many kids there and I felt more lost than ever before—every day I felt like I was jumping out of my skin. So, in the few moments I had between studying and setting up our internet security company, I chased adrenaline. And I loved it, it allowed me to get out of my head.”

Bay threaded her fingers through his and simply waited for him to continue.

“Somehow the crazy stunts I did started to attract attention, press attention, and I liked that. I liked reading about myself in the papers—it was an acknowledgment, you know?”

Bay nodded.

“I was called the wild Tempest-Vane, the fun brother, more like his parents than the brilliant Jack and introverted Radd.”

Bay tipped her head to the side. “I suppose that after you sold your company, the tech one, and you became instabillionaires, the press attention skyrocketed.”

Digby nodded. “Yeah, that was a crazy time. Every date I went on, every function I attended, was covered. According to the tabloid press, I was engaged twice, secretly married once and have a couple of secret babies.” Digby heard the bitterness in his voice and closed his eyes, mortified. “The women who dated me enjoyed the exposure—many of them translated their brief moment of fame into careers as reality stars, actresses and models.”

“Did it annoy you that they used you?” Bay asked.

“I guess it just got boring. Although, I was pissed when one snuck a photographer onto the hotel’s grounds and he hid out in the bushes and snapped a photo of her topless in the sunshine.”

“Yeah, I saw that photo,” Bay said.

Digby winced. Of course she had. He cursed.

“He got a great snap of your hand on her breast,” Bay pointed out. He pulled a face, uncomfortable at the reminder.

“The press taking photos of me at functions and in public places is something I can handle—it’s part of the deal of being a Tempest-Vane. But her invading my privacy, bringing someone into my home, was unacceptable.”

“Damn right,” Bay agreed. After a moment’s silence, she asked another question. “Is that a warning? To me?”

Digby took a moment to connect the dots, to work out what she meant. He shook his head, a touch more violently than he normally did. “No! Hell! I never thought that for a moment!”

“Okay.”

He could see a trace of skepticism in her eye but then she turned her gaze off him to look out the window. Since she was keeping her eyes on the view, he felt her retreat and cursed himself for being insensitive.Way to go, Tempest-Vane, you fool.

“Tell me about your relationships with your parents,” Digby said, wanting to engage her again. “I bet you were showered with affection and attention.”

Pain flashed across her fine features and her shoulders tensed. He thought she wouldn’t answer but then she released a heavy sigh. “I was showered with attention and affection until I went to high school. Then everything changed.”

“What happened?” Digby asked, refilling his coffee mug.

“I left my expensive, small, insulated primary school on a scholarship to Foresters...”

The exclusive girls-only school in Paarl? Yeah, he knew the school and was impressed that she’d won a scholarship to the prestigious institution. “Did you hate it?”

“No, I loved it. But I was exposed to new people, different views, and I embraced the diversity of the school. Within a couple of months, I’d been exposed to new ideas and literature and I had to confront, and deal with the notion, that my parents, especially my father, were narrow-minded, misogynistic, homophobic and ridiculously conservative.

“Worst of all, I realized that they were also full-blown racists,” she added.

Digby winced.

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