Page 19 of How to Win the Wild Billionaire

Instead of answering his questions, she rested her head on his collarbone and placed her hands on his waist. Her next words weren’t something he expected. “Can you, for just a minute, hold me, Dig?”

Dig.

Nobody else but Radd and Muzi shortened his name and he liked hearing it on her lips. And, while hugs weren’t something people, specifically women, associated with him, he was more than happy to wrap his arms around her and pull her in close.

And, he acknowledged, this had nothing to do with sex and attraction; she was looking for, needed, something else from him. Comfort, maybe? Support? Did it matter? Maybe not.

“Come here, kid.”

Digby didn’t give her a chance to object, or rethink her question, he just wrapped her up, holding her tight. He placed his cheek on her hair and smiled when her arms encircled his waist to hug him back. They were in his office and they had a ton of work to do but he’d hold her for as long as she needed.

Anytime. Anywhere.

And strangely enough, at that moment, with her in his arms, the thought didn’t scare him as much as it should.

“Mama B, Roisin is wonderful. Liv has really taken to her,” Bay explained, her phone tucked between her neck and shoulder.

“I want to meet her, to decide for myself,” Mama B replied, her tone suggesting that Bay not argue.

Bay grinned, knowing that Mama B’s concern came from a place of great love. “I’ll ask whether she can bring Liv to you for a playdate and you can meet her then. You’ll like her. I promise.”

“We’ll see,” Mama B replied, before abruptly ending the call. Bay grinned. Mama B had said what she said and was done talking. Bay envied the freedom that came with being old.

Bay, sitting cross-legged on Digby’s sofa, put her pencil down and stretched, raising her arms high above her head and bending from side to side. When she was traveling, she’d carved out time to do daily yoga and Pilates sessions, but since returning to Cape Town, yoga and any form of exercise had fallen by the wayside.

God, she missed it. She also missed quiet cups of coffee in the morning, the excitement of buying a ticket to a new destination and stepping off the plane to soak in the sights and sounds of a different land and culture. The noisiness of Bangkok, the sophistication of Florence, the serenity of Bhutan.

She missed the feeling of only being responsible for herself, being able to act with spontaneity and being as free as one could be in the twenty-first century.

As always, a wave of guilt broke over her and she felt terrible for mourning her free, uncomplicated and easy life.And let’s remember why you aren’t in Kathmandu or Kampala right now, Adair, and that’s because your sister isdead.

If she handed over custody of Liv to her parents, like they wanted her to do, then she could return to traveling, to exploring the world. She could go to Iran, or to Alaska, or she could pick up a job working on the yachts in the Med.

But how could she enjoy, well, anything, knowing that Layla’s little girl would be at the mercy of her rigid, controlling and austere parents?

Initially, Bay knew, her parents would shower her with love and affection, and Liv would be the happiest little girl alive. She’d blossom and shine but, if she was anything like her mom and aunt, as she hit her teens she’d start to question the rules, the rigidity, the lack of trust and their protectiveness. She’d want to spread her wings and they’d be clipped. There would be lectures and then more lectures, and if those didn’t work, attention would be withdrawn and love withheld. Affection would become a thing of the past. And because she was strong-willed and stubborn, Olivia wouldn’t back down but would be left swinging in the wind, unsure and alone and feeling like she was dying inside.

Bay knew exactly what that felt like.

She thought back to her meeting the previous day with her new lawyer, a friend of Busi’s, and to the million questions she’d answered about her life, her job and her romantic interests. Gillian Crawford had deep dived into her life and Bay had told her about her altercation with her father and admitted to her attraction to Digby.

Gillian, an experienced family lawyer, then took her through the legal process and pointed out possible pitfalls. Her parents were well respected, good people, who could give Olivia every opportunity. Because they had children young, they were only in their early fifties and they were fit and could keep up with a three-year-old.

They were perfect.

Bay, on the other hand, was not. She was single, and while her new job working for Digby was a good start, it wasn’t permanent and, thanks to her traveling, it could be argued that her lifestyle was a trifle unstable.

But, Gill continued, Layla and Ali wanted her to have custody of Olivia, not her parents. The judge would, probably, respect their wishes.

Unless she gave the judge cause to question her judgment.

Until this lawsuit went away, her lawyer also advised her to downplay her connection to Digby Tempest-Vane. Working for him was one thing, but if the press linked them together romantically, they could and would make a meal of her supposed relationship with the playboy billionaire. Digby was a guy who played hard and fast, who hadn’t had a long-term relationship in his life and who had been raised by the most notorious and dissolute couple on the continent.

Her name linked with his would result in her judgment being questioned and that was something that needed to be, at all costs, avoided.

Damn, it wasn’t right. Sure, Digby’s parents had indulged in drugs and affairs and wild parties—orgies had been mentioned on numerous occasions—but they’d died two years ago and she didn’t think it fair for Digby to be judged by the sins of his parents.

It was so unfair that the only man she’d been attracted to in ages was the one man she had to avoid. But, fair or not, she couldn’t risk losing Liv.

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