Page 29 of How to Undo the Proud Billionaire

Radd sat up straight, leaned forward and placed his hand on her knee. “Look at me, Brinley.” Radd waited for her to meet his eyes before speaking again. “I don’t want you to leave Kagiso, not yet. And yes, we need your room and a solution is for you to move in with me. But that’s all I’m asking you to do.”

“But—” Brin waved a hand between them “—you know.”

“Do I want to sleep with you? Hell, yes. Does your moving into my place guarantee that’s going to happen? Hell, no.” Radd tapped his finger on her knee when her eyes slid away. “Keep looking at me, Brinley. You’re in control here, you’re calling the shots. Would I like to see, taste and have you? Sure, I would. You’re a gorgeous woman and making love to you would be a privilege. But that’s your decision, always. If you’re not interested or not ready, I get it, and I’ll either sleep on the couch or in the hammock on the veranda.”

“You will?”

Radd looked annoyed at her questioning his motives. “I’m hard-assed and demanding. I’m abrupt and reticent, but I don’t force, coerce or bully women into sleeping with me.” Radd ran his fingers through his hair. “But if you don’t feel comfortable, if you don’t trust me enough, then I’ll make a call and hire a plane to get you home by nightfall.”

If he’d tried to persuade her, if he’d brushed off her concerns or dismissed them out of hand, then Brin would’ve taken him up on his offer to get her home, but because he did neither, because she instinctively trusted his integrity, she glanced down and stroked her finger over the raised veins in his broad, masculine hand.

“You must think I am desperately naive and old-fashioned,” Brin quietly commented.

Radd took a moment to answer her. “I think you are refreshing and out of the ordinary. I don’t often invite people to share my personal space, Brinley. Neither do I talk about my past, but I like talking to you. I like you. And if all I can get is your company, then I’ll take it.”

Was he being sarcastic? Was he just saying that to get his own way? To manipulate her into doing what he wanted her to do?

Brin looked into his eyes, steady and strong, and the honesty reflected in those inky blue depths reassured her. She allowed her suspicions to drain away. She believed him but, more than that, she trusted him. Trusted him to keep his word, to not push her, to respect her boundaries.

Boundaries that were, let’s be honest, not that solid, barriers that could easily be decimated.

“You’ll sleep on the couch or in the hammock?”

“I will.” Then Radd smiled and her heart flipped over. “Unless you invite me to sharemybed.”

Radd stood up abruptly and held out his hand for her to take. “I’ll get Chef to deliver our dinner, and your luggage, to my villa. We can eat on the deck, it overlooks a watering hole.”

He was too self-confident by half, a little presumptuous and a lot arrogant, but that didn’t stop Brin from sliding her hand into his and allowing him to lead her out of the dining room.

The next morning, Radd looked around his private villa, thinking that this open-plan space had always been his refuge, the one place he felt utterly at home.

He’d personally designed the spacious two-roomed, open-plan villa and some of his most treasured pieces of furniture had ended up here. In the corner sat his grandfather’s desk, above it on the wall were family photographs from the original farmhouse, demolished shortly after the new owners took possession of the property.

The enormous bed came from Le Bussy, the wine farm in Paarl, brought over by the first Tempest-Vane to arrive on the subcontinent.

There were antique fishing rods on another wall, all used by generations of Tempest-Vanes, and the four-seater sofa and its two matching wingback chairs, restuffed and recovered, were all old but supremely comfortable. Beyond the bedroom was a massive bathroom, complete with a slipper bath and his and hers basins. Floor-to-ceiling doors opened up onto an outdoor shower and Radd loved nothing more than to stand beneath the hard spray, looking up into the branches of an ancient shepherd tree shielding the villa from the harsh African sun. There was something incredibly sexy and primal about showering outside, especially at night when the stars hung so low he felt he could pluck them from the sky and hold them in his hand.

He could easily imagine standing in that space with a naked Brin, licking droplets of water off her breasts, her flat stomach, running his hands down her long legs, tipping her head back to suckle on her elegant neck…

God, he couldn’t think about her like that, naked, while she lay on his bed, gently sleeping.

Radd tipped his face up to the sun, enjoying the still pleasant heat, and whipped off his T-shirt, enjoying the prickles of sunshine on his shoulders and back.

God, he loved Kagiso.

This was the place where he recharged his batteries, where he could spend hours looking over his land or at the water hole, completely content to while away the hours on his own, watching the light change and the animals wandering into his line of sight.

Kagiso, particularly this villa—with its wide veranda, comfortable seating, a telescope and a plunge pool—was the place he ran to when life became a little too real, a bit harsh, the demands of business overwhelming.

Here, on his own, he could breathe, he could relax, he could simply be.

This space was his bolt hole and, to an extent, sacred. It wasn’t a space he shared, not even with Digby, as close as they were.

Radd stood at the railing of the veranda and turned his back on the water hole to look into the room, past the lounge area to the massive bed, draped in mosquito netting against a stone wall. Brin lay on her side, her hands under her cheek, deep in sleep.

God, she was beautiful. Fresh, lovely, unusual. And she was in his space, in this place that he regarded at his little piece of paradise.

Radd watched her sleep for another minute or two before forcing himself to pull his eyes off her delicate profile, to stop himself from tracing the curve of her lips, the arch of her cheekbones, from counting the number of freckles on her nose and cheeks.

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