He’d been caught up at Tempest-Vane HQ today and they hadn’t had time to discuss her suggested color and decor schemes for the hotel. When Digby suggested that he come to her place, she’d been hesitant. What if the press followed him here? The assumption would be that they were lovers and she couldn’t, in light of her custody battle, allow that to happen.

But she hadn’t had the willpower to say no. And they did need to catch up on work...

Too late now, he was here.

Bay sighed and followed Liv to where Digby sat on the small patio, a glass of whiskey at his elbow. As she suspected, Olivia, and Fluffy, were in his lap and her sweet head rested on his broad shoulder, her thumb in her mouth and her eyes heavy.

She’d be asleep in minutes, Bay realized. Roisin had taken her swimming in The Vane’s family pool this afternoon and Liv had by all accounts loved every second of being in the water and had no fear.

But, after a full day, the little girl was completely exhausted.

A glass of wine, courtesy of Digby, sat on the wrought iron table and Bay took a sip, allowing the icy and tart liquid to slide down her throat. Cape Town was experiencing a heat wave. Her cottage didn’t have air-conditioning and she felt like she was about to melt.

In contrast to her, Digby looked cool and comfortable in chino shorts and a loose linen shirt, flip-flops on his sexy feet. He’d asked for some time tonight—they hadn’t finished their discussion about her mood boards—and Bay invited him to her cottage any time after six. He arrived, to both her and Liv’s delight, at six fifteen.

Bay sighed and rubbed the back of her neck in frustration. She wanted, much to her chagrin, to spend as much time with Digby as possible, even though he was dangerous to her self-control.

And her future...

He wasthataddictive.

But addictive or not, it was very annoying that he’d found the time to have a shower before arriving at her door and Bay frowned. She hadn’t had a moment to herself after collecting Olivia from Roisin. Before making her way home, she’d needed to stop and buy some groceries, hit a cash machine and put fuel in her car. When she got home, she had to feed and bathe a fractious Olivia. And if she didn’t put laundry in tonight they’d have no clothes because they were out of, well, everything.

Bay felt like she’d run a marathon. The idea of making herself something to eat was a step, or ten too far. No wonder she was dropping weight. And God, she hoped Digby didn’t expect dinner.

“I’m not cooking,” Bay told him, feeling defiant. Her mother, no matter how long a day she’d had, would’ve made sure her father had a two-course meal ready the moment he stepped through the door.

She was not her mother; she wouldneverbe her mother. And Digby was her boss, not her lover or boyfriend or husband.

Digby raised his eyebrows at the rather snippy tone. “I know—that’s why I ordered Chinese. You do like Chinese, don’t you?”

Who didn’t? “Sure, I like Chinese.” Feeling embarrassed, she sat down on the chair opposite him and hiked her heels up onto the seat. She rubbed her eyes with the balls of her hands. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.”

“For me too, and I didn’t have to deal with the human dynamo,” Digby replied. He looked down at Olivia, his face reflecting his confusion. “I don’t understand why she likes me. I’ve had zero interaction with kids.”

Bay smiled at his statement. “I think it’s a gut thing. She immediately liked Roisin, as well. I trust those initial impressions.”

Digby picked up his whiskey glass with his spare hand. “Did you also trust Roisin immediately?”

Bay heard an uncertain note in his voice and cocked her head. “I did. Didn’t you?”

Digby seemed to choose his words carefully. “About her qualifications and her love for children, I did. But there’s something...”

“What?” Bay asked. She’d spent enough time with Digby to realize that under that very hot face and exceptional body was a scalpel-sharp brain. If he had concerns about Roisin then she’d listen. “Should we be looking for another nanny for Liv?”

The thought made her heart sink. Liv loved Roisin and was completely comfortable with her. Even Mama B liked her, enough to offer to teach Roisin how to make her famous bobotie, something she rarely did. Finding another nanny would not be easy.

Digby held up his hand, his expression wry. “No, relax. I have absolute faith in her ability to look after this peanut.” Digby patted Liv’s thigh. “I’m not sure that I believe that she’s in Africa just because she’s traveling...” Digby stared at his whiskey before shrugging. “But her personal life has nothing to do with me.”

Bay glanced at Olivia and saw that the little girl was fast asleep on Digby’s chest. She gestured to her. “I can take her and put her to bed if you like.”

“You just sat down,” Digby pointed out, “and she weighs about as much as a feather.”

Bay sipped her wine and rolled her head on her shoulders, trying to work out some of the knots in her neck.

She looked at Digby, who was looking very at ease despite the soft bundle lying on his chest. But he did look tired and his fabulous eyes had dark rings under them. Because she was sharing his office at The Vane, she knew how many balls he had up in the air. His meetings and calls never stopped. “You’re looking a bit shattered too, Digby. When are you expecting your brother back?”

Digby shrugged. “God knows. He’s been away for a few weeks already and I am hoping that he’ll be back in time to help cohost our View of Table Mountain Ball.”