Page 13 of How to Undo the Proud Billionaire

“Tswana,” Radd rested his forearms on the wheel and stared at the thick bush on the other side of the airstrip. “Kagisomeans peace in Tswana. I spent a lot of time here with my paternal grandfather as a kid, pretty much every school holiday. I’m told I could speak the language before I could speak English.”

Wow. “That’s amazing. I wish I spoke an African language.”

Radd turned the ignition and the engine caught. “Why don’t you? It’s pretty obvious you have some African blood.”

“My mother is biracial, and my biological father is white. My grandfather was Sotho, but we only ever spoke English at home,” Brinley replied, not meeting his eyes. “My mother’s side of the family left their culture behind a long time ago.”

“That’s sad.”

He had no idea.

“Why are you driving and not your staff?” Brin asked, wanting to change the subject.

Radd changed gears as he navigated a sharp, upward turn to the left. He took his time answering and, for a moment, Brin didn’t think he would. Eventually, he sighed and shrugged. “As a rule, I like to drive myself. And I’ve been driving these roads since I was ten years old. I love it here.”

Brin frowned, not understanding. “More than you love your magnificent flat in Camps Bay or your vineyard in Stellenbosch?”

“Have you been researching me, Miss Riddell?” he asked in a silky voice.

“You wish.” Brin snorted. “I know about your properties because your rooftop garden at your flat and the garden at your vineyard were both featured in a gardening magazine I subscribe to.”

“Oh, right. I remember my landscaper asking me for permission to take the magazine photographer to both properties.”

Brin thought Radd would be hard-pressed to describe either property, and was starting to suspect that Radd had tunnel vision and didn’t see or care for much outside of work. If she had gardens like his, she’d never leave them.

Radd’s hand tightened on the wheel and he opened his mouth to tell Brin those other properties were just assets he owned, but that he considered Kagiso his home, a place of freedom and peace.

His memories of this land were only happy ones…

The smell of grandfather’s pipe, camping underneath the stars or in caves containing rock art done by the San people, running wild with Jack and Digby and the children of the staff working the ranch. Swimming in the concrete water reservoir on hot days, falling asleep to the sound of jackals barking at night. The three brothers making plans for the rest of their lives, plans that didn’t include their parents…

Radd shook off his thoughts and when he turned his head to look at Brin, he saw the hulking shadow moving slowly in the distance. He braked, stopped and touched Brin’s shoulder, pointing to a space between the trees.

“There’s a black rhino at eleven o’clock. Highly endangered, completely awe-inspiring,” Radd whispered.

Brin’s hand landed on his thigh and Radd sucked in a deep breath as her fingertips burned through the fabric of his pants into his skin. Desire roared through him, as turbulent and as fierce as an African thunderstorm. He stared at her exquisite profile, reluctantly admitting he’d wanted her from the first moment he saw her standing near her worn-out Beetle earlier.

He. Wanted. Her.

More than he ever expected, more than he could believe. But this was just—this had to be!—a normal reaction of a man to a sexy woman; it didn’t mean anything beyond a need to work off excess sexual energy.

He hadn’t had sex for a while and he was past due. Right, when he used his brain, his attraction to Brinley was simple and easily explained.

The rhino moved deeper into the bush and Brinley sighed, a sweet, soft sound. His blood plummeted south as he wondered whether she sounded like that when she fell apart in a man’s arms. Specifically,hisarms.

Then she turned to look at him, her mouth now just a couple of inches from his own. In the sinking light, her eyes were the color of a mermaid’s, now a silver-aqua shade and fully able to rip his breath away. Through her light makeup, he could see the hints of her freckles, and he wanted to pull her dress off her body and discover where else those sweet dots appeared. Her eyes locked on his and, in them, he saw awareness, desire and yearning: everything he was feeling.

He wanted to taste her, no, he needed to taste her. Just once so he could stop obsessing about whether her mouth was as sweet as he imagined.

Radd touched his lips to hers, aiming to keep his kiss light, chaste if he could. But a few seconds after their lips connected, she opened her lips and he couldn’t resist, he had to go on in. His tongue pushed past her teeth to slide against hers and she arched her back in that feminine, age-old silent way of asking for more.

But instead of waiting for him to give her what she wanted, Brin, surprising the hell out of him and without breaking contact with his mouth, turned in her seat. Moving gracefully, she lifted her skirt and straddled him, bent knees on either side of his thighs. She reached for his shirt and bunched the fabric in her hands as she deepened the kiss, asking, no, demanding, more.

Thoughts of resistance flew out of his brain. His hands found the bottom of her dress and he pulled it up so his hands could stroke the back of her smooth thighs, roam over her gorgeous backside covered in cool cotton. He explored the valley of her lower back, the curve of her slim hip, her luscious butt. Pulling away from her mouth, he kissed his way up her jaw, down her neck, but Brin moved her hand from his chest back to his face, tipping his head so she could feast on his mouth again.

And feast she did. So much passion rested under her surfer-girl exterior and he wanted more, he wanted all of her. He wanted her tongue in his mouth, but also wanted it on his neck. He wanted her hands on his chest, in his pants. He wanted to explore all her valleys and dips, the knobs of her spine, the ball of her shoulder, discover the color of her nipples, taste the sweetness between her legs.

He didn’t think he’d ever wanted anyone as much, or as fast, as he wanted Brinley Riddell. And for the first time in, well, forever, his reaction terrified him. Women never knocked him sideways, he refused to give them that much power. That Brin could was…

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