Page 11 of How to Undo the Proud Billionaire

She was going to faint, he just knew it. Radd sprang to his feet and placed his hand against the back of her head, pushing her head gently down to rest between her knees, his fingers covered by soft, fragrant curls.

Maybe she’d had too much sun, too little food, or maybe she was dehydrated. It was possible.

Or maybe, just maybe, the fact she was doing flowers for a celebrity couple was overwhelming. Which was, he admitted, a little disappointing. Brinley didn’t seem the swooning type.

She certainly hadn’t with him.

CHAPTER THREE

HAVINGSTUMBLEDBACKto the bathroom, Brinley gripped the basin and stared at her pale face in the mirror. Her eyes looked haunted and she’d chewed all her lipstick off. She looked like she felt, shocked but also resentful.

For the last few months, since she’d left Johannesburg and drastically reduced contact with her family, her life had been peaceful. She’d started sleeping well and stressing less, and she’d worked hard to find a new normal. While she wasn’t completely happy—how could she be when she was constantly counting pennies?—she was content and that was, for now, enough.

The past six months had been drama free, but this day certainly wasn’t. She didn’t know where to start to try and make sense of it all…

Firstly, Radd Tempest-Vane wasn’t engaged, dammit, and he’d stripped her of the much-needed psychological barrier between them. If he was in love with someone else, she would’ve had a very good reason to ignore her attraction to him.

But the man had the temerity—the sheer audacity—to be single!

It didn’t matter, Brin told herself,it shouldn’t matter. Her insane physical reaction to him was nothing more than simple biology, an age-old instinct to mate, to procreate. She was young, healthy and yes, she had urges. This was a very normal reaction to a good-looking guy.

There was no need to overreact.

Besides, she had a far bigger problem than her inconvenient attraction to Radd.

Brinley straightened her arms and stared down at the expensive floor, sucking in deep breaths to get her heart to stop racing. There were a million couples at any one time who were in the process of getting married, but she was traveling to Kagiso Ranch to do the flowers for Naledi Radebe, Kerry’s archenemy.

Naledi and her sister had once been friends, good friends, but their relationship wasn’t strong enough to survive Kerry being chosen instead of Naledi for some advertisement campaign. Then came the allegations of Kerry dating someone Naledi was seeing. At a party, slaps had been exchanged and the pictures in the press hadn’t been pretty. Someone pressed assault charges, the other responded with charges of her own, though the criminal charges were eventually dropped and the fight moved to the civil courts.

Then came the social media war that left them both bleeding but, eventually, the vitriol eased and now it was just the occasional caustic tweet throwing shade. Neither had ever made the attempt to mend fences.

Knowing she needed more information, Brin picked up her phone, accessed the onboard Wi-Fi and did a quick search, immediately picking up an article announcing Naledi’s engagement to Johnathan Wolfe and, God, yes, he was the same guy Kerry had had a fling with two years ago.

Oh, crap and dammit.

Reasonable or not, Naledi would lose it if she realized her enemy’s sister was doing her flowers. It wouldn’t matter to Naledi that Brin and Kerry seldom spoke, Brin shared Kerry’s blood and that would be enough to make her lose it.

Kerry would probably also call her a traitor, screaming that blood should always stand with blood.

Nobody had ever called either of the two society princesses reasonable.

God, this was disastrous. Brin paced the small area of the bathroom, wondering what she should do. She could tell Radd her nebulous connection to the bride but if she did, he’d turn the plane around and dump her still-broke butt back in Cape Town. He had a massive business deal riding on the outcome of this wedding and he wouldn’t risk upsetting the Radebes.

He’d find another florist, and she would be out of thirty thousand US dollars. She needed that money. Really,reallyneeded it, and if she spent twenty-four hours at Kagiso and did a decent job, she could create a life that excited her…a little shop, and working as a floral designer, adding pops of color and interest to homes and events, would make her happy. Unlike Kerry, she didn’t need a big stage, or lights or action. It wasn’t big or bold, but Brin didn’t need big or bold, she just needed it to behers.

Brin flicked her thumbnail against her bottom teeth. Radd had told her that she was due to leave the lodge tomorrow afternoon and the wedding party was only flying in on Monday morning. She could do the flowers, get paid enough to set up her own business and leave before Naledi arrived. She’d leave it up to Radd to explain who the florist was. She owed this to herself and, if she didn’t take this opportunity, she’d regret it for the rest of her life.

Brinley looked at herself in the mirror, pleased to see the color had returned to her face and her eyes no longer looked haunted. Progress.

She could pull this off, shehadto.

Brinley walked back into the salon to see Skye placing a platter between two bone china plates on the dining table. Silver cutlery, crystal glasses and three thousand count linen napkins made her think she was eating in a five-star restaurant.

Brinley stepped forward and saw the platter was, actually, a beautiful seafood salad—and she grinned. Thanks to her skeletal budget, seafood was something she never ate.

“Oh, Skye, it looks fantastic,” Brin said, walking up to the table. Skye pulled out her chair and Brin sat down.

Radd walked over to the table and took his seat, pulling the bottle of white wine from the silver ice bucket. “You’re looking better,” he commented.

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