Page 5 of How to Win the Wild Billionaire

But she was more lovely than most of the models, actresses and socialites he’d met.

“If you’ll accompany me, miss, I’ll see if I can be of assistance,” Benoit said, looking down his long, aristocratic nose at her.

Digby saw annoyance flash in the woman’s eyes and couldn’t blame her; Benoit was a hell of a snob. But his stupendously wealthy guests loved the snooty, almost rude concierge, and receiving his deference and approval was something they all aspired to. If you passed muster with Benoit, then you were worthy of your status, your wealth, your place in the world.

It was a ridiculous notion, but Benoit’s name was dropped with alarming frequency in the rarefied world he operated in.

Benoit, no last name needed,arranged a hot-air balloon ride over the wine lands.

Benoit found me a bottle of Petrus 1990...

Benoit arranged for me to have my portrait painted by Kendall...

Digby didn’t particularly like Benoit, but his guests did and that was all that mattered. It would be easy for him to hand her over to Benoit to deal with but, for some strange reason, he wanted to protect her from Benoit’s always polite but silently scathing attitude.

“I’ll handle it, thank you, Benoit,” Digby told him, his tone suggesting that he not argue. Benoit hesitated then nodded, bowing slightly before retreating.

When Benoit was out of earshot, he connected with those cognac-colored eyes again—did his heart really skip a beat or was that his imagination?—and the question he’d been about to ask flew out of his head. He felt the insane urge to find out whether her skin was as soft as it looked.

“I’m Digby Tempest-Vane, by the way.”

“My name is Bay Adair.”

Bay Adair. The unusual name suited her. What didn’t suit him was his fiery, instant, almost out-of-control need to make her his. Again, super strange.

“Are you here to meet someone?”

Irritation flickered in her eyes. “I’m here to meet you, to talk to you about redesigning this hotel.”

Hell.Brin’s friend. She was here on business, to try to nail a design concept that had eluded ten of the world’s best designers.

“Right.”

On the plus side, he’d be wasting an hour, maybe two of his time because there was no way Bay would be able to give him what he needed, not in a business sense. Physically, sexually, he had no doubt that she could rock his world.

Life was messing with him by sending him stupid dreams and placing women in his path he couldn’t have.

Good thing he had practice at looking it in the eye and telling it to go to hell.

CHAPTER TWO

BAYSTRUGGLEDTOkeep up with Digby Tempest-Vane’s long stride as she followed him across the lobby—funny how a space so beautiful and luxurious could still be so cold—toward a set of doors discreetly marked as Staff Only.

Liv’s sloth was back in her tote bag and Bay clutched her art satchel to her chest and found herself almost jogging to keep up with him. He was tall, six-two or -three, and his stride was long and brisk. His shoulders were wide, and his short-at-the-sides and raked-back-on-top hair, a deep, rich brown. His eyes, as she’d noticed earlier, were the deep, intense shade commonly used in mosques from Marrakech to Medina, all across the Middle East and North Africa.

Persian blue and brilliant.

She liked his strong jawline under three-day stubble, his straight nose and his sensual mouth. He was panty-dropping attractive, successful and rich. Alpha to the core.

Bay watched as he keyed in a code to open the door leading to the back rooms of the hotel. She’d seen the flicker of annoyance in his eyes and heard his sigh when she told him she was there to see him, and it was obvious he thought meeting her was a waste of his time.

And she couldn’t blame him for being skeptical; if the best in the business hadn’t been able to nail his vision, then there was little chance she would succeed where they failed. She was, after all, a realist.

When she heard hisThanks, but no thanksshe could put aside this silly dream of supporting herself and Liv through interior design, and she’d resign herself to living in the real world, themundaneworld.

After Digby turned her down, she would call Busi Sithebe, of Kane, Sithebe and Pritchard, Consulting Engineers; Busi was her best friend from school and, a year or so ago, she’d told her that when she was ready to return to engineering, she’d try to find a position for her in her company. Bay felt her stomach lurch at the thought of joining the corporate world and working in a field that bored her to tears.

But she was out of options. A girl, and her niece, needed to eat.

---