Page 51 of How to Win the Wild Billionaire

“I didn’t mean to deceive you, Dig. I just wanted to go slow,” she muttered against his chest.

Digby ran his hand down her long braid. “It’s okay, Ro. And can I say, although it’s a bit late...welcome to our dysfunctional family.”

Roisin stood back and wiped her tears away with the balls of her hands. Then she covered her eyes with her hands. “I needed time to see if you were anything like your,our, parents. If you were, I was going to fade away, not make contact.”

“Smart girl,” Digby replied. Hell, in her position, he would’ve done exactly the same thing. After leading her outside, Digby pushed her into one of the two chairs on the veranda and sat down on the opposite one.

Roisin sniffed and pulled a tissue out of her pocket. After blowing her nose, she tried to smile. “I was only told about the inheritance when your parents died. I didn’t know about them before. I was shocked at suddenly becoming an heiress.”

“I bet.”

“But they, according to the lawyer, kept track of me,” Roisin stated. Then determination burned in the eyes that met his. “I told Radd and I’m telling you, I don’t want everything they left me. I want you two to choose anything you want and I’ll auction everything else.”

“I don’t want anything,” Digby said, placing his hand on her knee. “I have everything I need.”

“Radd said the same thing,” Roisin replied. “But there are some boxes of jewelry, photos and knickknacks you may want. I think it might be your grandparents’ stuff—it’s pretty old. Maybe you’d like to look through that, at least.”

“I’d like that,” Digby told her. “But sell the rest, Roisin, bank the proceeds.”

“They left me enough cash for several lifetimes and I don’t need that much money. I thought that I could donate the money raised at the auction to the Tempest-Vane foundation. Anonymously, of course.”

They’d be grateful but it wasn’t necessary, he told her. And that raised another point. “Do you want a public acknowledgment from us, Ro?”

Roisin cocked her head. “Would you give me one?”

Of that he had no doubt; he’d be proud to call her his sister. “Absolutely. It will create a firestorm in the media, but if that’s what you want, then sure.”

Roisin placed her hand on her chest. “You and Radd are amazing and I’m so lucky to have found you. But no, I’d prefer to avoid the press. But thank you for the offer.”

Digby shrugged. “You’re our sister.” He heard someone calling her name and Roisin checked her watch. “It’s outside playtime—I need to go,” she explained as she stood up.

As if they’d been doing it forever, she stepped into his arms again for another hug. When she pulled back, he asked another question. “Why are you still working? I mean, now that we know who you are, you no longer need to pretend.”

Roisin sent him a sweet smile. “I like to work and I love kids. And my friend needed me to look after her little girl.”

Digby looked down at his feet, noticing a new rip in the knee of his oldest jeans. “How is she?” he quietly asked.

“Sad. But strong,” Roisin replied. “Missing you. She’s in the ballroom if you are looking for her.”

He was. Honestly, he’d been looking for her all his life but never knew it.

CHAPTER TEN

BAY,SITTINGONthe floor in the corner of the ballroom, lifted her head up from her sketch pad to look around the space. It was the lack of noise that first caught her attention and, yep, the room was completely empty.

She looked at her watch and frowned. It wasn’t tea or lunchtime. The renovation crew should still be working; this room had to be finished in time for the Table Mountain Ball in a few weeks.

Where was everybody?

“Do you know the definition of the Greek wordphilophobia?”

Bay’s head whipped in the direction of Digby’s voice and eventually found him, standing next to the French doors, the sun creating a halo around his head. She almost snorted; Digby was as far from an angel as anyone could be and she far preferred naughty to nice anyway. Wearing a white linen shirt, sleeves rolled up his forearms, and ripped and battered designer jeans, flip-flops on his feet, he looked hot and sexy and hot...

She was repeating herself.

Annoyed by her instinctive, uncontrollable response to him, Bay scowled. “Did you come here to slow down work—” she looked around the ballroom, realizing he was the only person who could clear the room so fast “—or to torment me with the meaning of obscure Greek words?”

Digby walked into the ballroom, across to where she sat, and sank to the floor in front of her before crossing his legs and placing his elbows on his knees. “It originates from two Greek words:philoswhich means loving, andphoboswhich means fear. I’ve been suffering from the fear of love all my life.”

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