Page 17 of How to Win the Wild Billionaire

Oh, my, he’d cut away her biggest objection to working with him. He was making it exceedingly difficult to say no. And why should she? This job was the answer to her many, many prayers.

“You design, you source paint and materials and stuff you need and you request quotes. I’ll organize the work crews, haggle with the suppliers for better prices and arrange for delivery.”

He mentioned a monthly salary that had her eyes bugging out. Her tongue, she was sure, was an inch from the floor. She wasn’t certain what the going rate for interior designers was but, man, that figure sounded like four or five times what she’d hoped to earn.

“Are you being serious?”

His deep blue eyes connected and held hers. “Deathly.”

Well, then.

Bay ran her hands over her face, her mind racing with possibilities. Needing to see it on paper, she pulled her sketch pad toward her, grabbed a bright purple pencil and did a quick calculation, working out her salary for the next six months. Another quick sum gave her the figure of her expenses over the same period and there was a healthy profit. And she wouldn’t have to pay for Olivia’s childcare so that would increase her disposable income.

She could pay off some debts, buy Olivia a new summer wardrobe and service her car. She could also stash some money away every month for emergencies and best of all, she could afford a good lawyer to help her in her quest to keep custody of Liv.

She couldn’t say no; this opportunity was heaven-sent.

Except for one thing...

“What about...” Bay hesitated, her eyes going to his sexy mouth. She bit her lip, knowing she was blushing. “...what happened earlier?”

“Do you want me to tell you that it won’t happen again?” Digby asked her and she noticed that his hands were gripping the back of the chair, his knuckles white.

No. Yes. She didn’t know.

“I am attracted to you, you know that,” Digby said, his voice harsh but his eyes not leaving her face. “All I can promise you is that, no matter what, your job will never be in jeopardy because of anything that happens between us.”

She should demand more, to make him promise that nothing would happen between them at all.Ever.But she couldn’t make herself voice that thought.

Digby’s deep blue eyes slammed into hers. “I never play where I work, Bay, and if something happened between us it would be the exception rather than the rule. What if I put the power into your hands?”

Sorry? What was he talking about? Bay frowned at him. “I don’t understand.”

“If you want something to happen between us,youmake the move.” His sexy mouth quirked in a half smile. “I’m not saying that I won’t try to tempt you into bed, but if we get there, it’ll be your choice, your timing. Your terms.”

Bay’s mouth fell open; she was not sure how to react. No man, not her father, either of her two previous lovers or any of her boyfriends, allowed her to be in the driving seat, to take control. Bay turned over his offer, looking for the catch. Because there had to be one. Nobody made that sort of proposal without getting something out of the arrangement.

What was Digby’s angle?

She didn’t trust him; she didn’t trust anybody, so she shook her head. “Nothing will happen between us, Digby.”

He frowned at that. “Are you involved with someone?”

She shook her head.

“No. But I can’t, for a lot of reasons, get involved with you.” Bay said, dropping her feet to the floor.

“It would be an affair, Bay, not an involvement,” Digby told her, his voice soft, but she heard the determination in his words. So, like her, Digby wasn’t looking for love or commitment. She wondered if his reasons were as complicated as hers.

It didn’t matter; they weren’t going to go there. Her life was convoluted enough without adding an affair with her employer to the list of things guaranteed to stress her out.

She saw his flash of disappointment when she didn’t offer a reason, but she couldn’t, wouldn’t explain. She was a private person, used to keeping her own counsel. She’d spent too many years fighting with her father for her voice to be heard, her opinions respected, only to be dismissed and rejected, so she’d decided, a long time ago, to keep her thoughts to herself. If she didn’t share them, they couldn’t be stomped on.

Bay thrust the purple pencil in his direction. Digby raised his thick eyebrows and took the pencil. “And what do you want me to do with this?”

“Scribble a note about providing a nanny for Liv and sign your name next to my calculations and we’ll take that as a preliminary contract. You can send me an official one later.”

Digby nodded and bent over her sketch pad, his hand dashing words across her page. His signature, bold and confident, just like the man, followed. He straightened, placed the pencil in the box and sent her a small smile. He held out his hand for her to shake. “Deal?”

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