How to Undo the Proud Billionaire

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How to Undo the Proud Billionaire Page 10

by Joss Wood


  Radd rested his arms on the railing of the balcony and stared down at the water below him, uncomfortable with his mental ramblings, his deep dive into his psyche. He had to reign this emotion in, go back into his cool cocoon where little touched him. He was here, at Kagiso, to get Vincent Radebe to sign the final papers that would give them ownership of the mine and, when that was done, they’d launch the PR and rebranding campaign.

  He had to stick to things he could control and Brinley Riddell, with her light eyes and soft curls, was not on that list.

  He’d best remember that.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  BRIN, SITTING AT the dining table on the deck of Radd’s villa, her bare feet up on the railing and a coffee cup in her hand, turned at the sound of the door opening. Her heart picked up speed, as it always did when it was in the same room as Radd, and she whipped around to see him walking into the villa, tossing his hat onto the king-size bed.

  Today he was dressed in the bottle green polo shirt all the game rangers wore, khaki shorts and boots, and he looked as wild and as tough as the land stretched below them.

  Radd caught her eyes, smiled and her stomach joined her heart’s around-her-body race. “Morning.”

  “Hi, how was your game drive? See anything interesting?”

  Radd took the seat opposite her, leaned across the table and snagged a piece of her jam smeared croissant. He chewed, swallowed and took the coffee cup from her hand and drained the contents before handing her empty cup back.

  She lifted her eyebrows at him.

  “Relax, fresh coffee, croissants and fruit are on its way,” Radd told her, bending down to unlace his boots. “The drive through the park was awesome, you should’ve come with us.”

  “There wasn’t space,” Brin reminded him. The wedding party filled every seat in the vehicle, and Naledi and her friends weren’t the type of people she’d get up before dawn to spend time with. She couldn’t complain though, Radd had taken her for a drive on both Monday and last night, Tuesday, leaving his game rangers to look after the guests.

  “I like it when we’re on our own,” Brin quietly admitted.

  “Me, too,” Radd softly replied.

  Brin turned his head to look at him and her breath caught in her throat at the desire blazing in his eyes. His hair was ruffled, his jaw thick with stubble and as sexy as sin. Brin felt a tremble roll through her and she couldn’t help licking her lips, wishing his was covering hers, his tongue in her mouth, his hand pushing her thighs apart.

  Oh, God, she wanted him, here in the sunlight at just past eight in the morning...

  And, judging by his clenched fist resting on the table and the flush on his cheekbones, he wanted her, too. Brin looked from him to the daybed where Radd slept, hanging from chains in the corner of the veranda. It was big enough for an orgy—hammock, her ass—and she wondered if she was brave enough to say something, anything, to get him to join her on that wide surface.

  Are you ready for that, Brin Riddell? Ready for a hot affair that would end the day after next, when they returned to Cape Town? She didn’t know, she wasn’t sure...

  Brin pulled her eyes off him and searched for something to say to break the tension. “Did you see anything interesting?” she asked.

  Radd ate another piece of her croissant before attacking his other boot. “A leopard, a pangolin, a herd of elephants.”

  Nice. “I’ve never seen a pangolin.”

  “They are pretty rare,” Radd said, sitting up and, copying her, put his bare feet up on the railing. “They are the most traded animals in the world and are highly, highly endangered. I tried to explain that to the bride and her maids, but they weren’t that interested. They spent most of the drive talking about the hen party and getting slammed in Ibiza.”

  Brin wrinkled her nose. Torture.

  Radd rolled his eyes. “One of them even asked me who did the landscaping at Kagiso?”

  “At the lodge?”

  Radd shook his head and nodded to the savanna. “Out there.”

  Brin laughed and shook her head. “Dear God, far too much money and not enough sense.”

  “Then they had the bright idea of doing a group shot on the edge of the dam. It took me ten minutes to persuade them that the dam was home to a ten-foot crocodile known as Big Daddy.”

  “Is that true?” Brin asked.

  “No, but there is a resident pod of hippos in the dam who don’t like being disturbed.”

  “And hippos kill a lot of people in Africa,” Brin replied.

  Radd sent her an admiring glance, his dark eyes warm. “You’ve been reading up.”

  Brin shrugged, knowing that her cheeks were probably pink from his praise. “I love it here, I’m fascinated. Though it would be amazing to be here without...”

  Brin stop speaking, not wanting to say anything negative about his guests. Radd finished her sentence for her. “Without the wedding party? Not your type of people?”

  Not at all. “I’m sure they are very nice when you get to know them,” Brin diplomatically replied.

  “But you wouldn’t bet your life on it,” Radd told her, laughing. “Honey, your lips say one thing, but your eyes tell the truth. They aren’t windows to your soul, they are six-foot-high billboards. And, even if I couldn’t read your eyes, your total avoidance of the wedding party would be a damn big clue that you don’t like them. Why, is it because they are rich?”

  “I’m not that shallow,” Brin replied, not happy that he could read her so well.

  “No, you’re not. Neither are you a snob or quick to judge, so I’m curious as to why you have made up your mind about Naledi and company so quickly. In fact, even before they arrived...”

  Brin heard the knock on the door and thanked God and all his angels and archangels for the distraction. Someone above was looking after her because Radd’s questions were coming a little too close for comfort. Radd stood up and walked into the villa, and Brin released a relieved sigh. She heard his low murmur of thanks and he soon returned holding a tray, which he placed on the table between them. A full carafe of coffee, a huge bowl of fruit salad, fresh croissants and fig jam. But, instead of resuming his seat, Radd pulled off his shirt and Brin sucked in her breath at his broad chest, lightly covered with hair, his ridged stomach, the hint of hip muscles sliding beneath the band of his shorts.

  He stood with his back to her, looking past the water hole to the savanna beyond, and Brin looked her fill, taking in the way the early morning sunlight bounced off his dark hair. She longed to run her hands over his broad shoulders, kiss the bumps of his spine and discover whether his butt was really as firm as it looked. She wanted to take a bite out of his thick biceps, feel if the hair on his legs was as crisp as she imagined.

  He’d been a perfect gentleman and, honestly, she was over it. She wanted to enjoy that amazing outdoor shower, share that slipper bath, drop into that plunge pool naked...with him.

  She wanted his mouth on hers, his hands skating over her body, her thighs parting...

  As if he could hear her thoughts, Radd turned and his eyes slammed into hers. His hands, gripping the railing behind him, turned white and, as a band of heat warmed her from the inside out, she felt her nipples contract.

  Radd’s eyes dropped to her chest and before her eyes, she saw him swell, his erection tenting the fabric of his cotton shorts.

  He wanted her.

  She wanted him.

  But Radd didn’t move. His eyes just burned and a muscle in his cheek danced. “If I kiss you, there’s no going back, Brinley,” Radd growled the words, his low tone saturated with emotion.

  Brin swallowed and nodded.

  “Say the words, Brinley. Know what you are asking.”

  Brinley gathered her courage and forced her brain to form the words, to verbalize what she wanted. He was right, there was no going back from this.


  “I want you, I’d like...you know.” Brin floundered, heat flooding her face. But she wouldn’t look away, she refused to feel embarrassed about wanting Radd. She was an adult, unattached, and so was he. They were allowed to do this.

  Radd momentarily lifted his hands to cup her face in his hands. “God, you are beautiful.”

  Brin stared into his eyes as she waited for him to kiss her, enjoying this moment of delayed gratification.

  Radd seemed equally happy to draw out the moment, leaning over her but not yet touching her. He simply stared at her and, when the moment became too intense, gratification too difficult to ignore, Brin lifted her hand to touch his jaw, heavy with stubble. Her thumb drifted over his bottom lip.

  “Kiss me, Radd.”

  Was that her voice, sultry and sexy? It had to be, because Radd’s lips curved into a smile and he lowered his head, whispering his response.

  “Gladly.”

  His kiss, long-awaited, was heat and heaven, both decadent and divine. Radd kept his hands on her cheeks, the only contact they had apart from their mouths, knowing that this was enough, right now. In a few minutes, they’d want more but for now, this sweet and sexy exchange was both reassuring and ridiculously raunchy.

  At the same time Radd’s tongue slipped past her teeth to slide against hers, he easily pulled her to her feet and against his chest. His erection pushed into her stomach and one hand rested on her bottom, acquainting himself with her shape. His other hand skimmed up her side and came to rest on her breast, his thumb sliding across her tight nipple.

  Her thoughts hazy, her mind and body focused on what he was doing to her—his lips on her nipple through the material of her vest had her whimpering with delight—and the way her hands skimmed over his body. It took Brin a few moments to realize that the banging she could hear was not her heart but an insistent rap on the door to the villa.

  Pulling back, she pulled a strand of her hair from Radd’s stubble and cocked her head.

  “Come back here,” Radd growled, his hand encircling her neck to pull her mouth back to his.

  Brin sank back into his kiss, but another hard rap on the door fractured the moment. Radd cursed but his eyes didn’t leave hers. “Ignore it,” he told her.

  “Radd!”

  Yep, that was Naledi’s voice and she didn’t sound happy. Brin stared at Radd and watched as irritation and frustration jumped into his eyes. “What the hell does she want now?”

  Another rap, harder this time, told them that she wasn’t going away.

  “I swear to God I’m going to kill her. And then I will fire the staff member who escorted her down here.”

  Brin winced at his hard, cold tone and stepped away from him, immediately feeling cold and exposed, and more than a little vulnerable. The moment had been so perfect, would they ever be able to re-create it? Would she ever be this brave again? She wasn’t sure.

  Radd saw something on her face, because his expression softened and he bent down to skim his lips across hers. “Don’t retreat, Brin. Let me just deal with this and I’ll be back, okay?”

  Radd waited, his deep blue eyes nearly black with need, looking for reassurance that she wouldn’t change her mind, that they’d be able to pick up where they left off. She wanted to tell him that they would, but she wasn’t sure; Brin didn’t know if she could be brave twice.

  And Radd knew it.

  “One step forward, ten back,” Radd muttered, his frustration evident in his snappy sentence.

  Another rap on the door resulted in Radd snapping out a harsh “Relax, for God’s sake, I’m coming!”

  Brin watched as he picked up his shirt and dragged it over his head, his eyes blazing with annoyance and his thinned lips reflecting his displeasure. Brin was glad that she wasn’t on the other side of the door, she didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger.

  Brin heard the outside door open and, although she couldn’t see the door, and their unwelcome visitors couldn’t see into the room, she could still hear the exchange.

  “Naledi.” Radd’s greeting was polite, but anyone with a brain in their head would recognize the annoyance in his voice. “How can I help you?”

  “I need an extra room, the bridesmaids sharing the Serengeti have had an argument and need some space, and I understand that you have another villa that is available,” Naledi replied. “I need them separated.”

  “Mari, I assume that you explained to Ms. Radebe that wouldn’t be possible?” Radd asked.

  “I did.”

  Brin smiled at Mari’s tart response and hoped that the Radebes would leave the staff an enormous tip when they left on Friday. If they didn’t, and Brin wasn’t convinced they would, she hoped Radd rewarded them for not killing their demanding guests.

  “Her job is to cater to our every whim and I do not understand why I am standing here and nothing is happening. She’s not a very good manager, and I think you should fire her.”

  Brin’s eyes widened. Okay, there was no way that Radd would stand for that type of talk. Not only was Mari exceptional at her job, but she and Radd had been friends since they were kids. He’d jump to her defense, any minute now.

  Brin waited, and then waited some more. When Radd didn’t defend Mari, her heart dropped to her toes. She knew how it felt to be falsely accused, to be blamed for something that wasn’t her fault. She’d endured Kerry’s unreasonable anger on too many occasions to count and she’d prayed, wished, her mom would stand up for her, just once.

  But that never happened.

  Even Kerry’s making out with her boyfriend had been swept under the rug, dismissed. Her wants, needs or feelings meant nothing. Like Naledi, keeping Kerry happy was all that was important, no matter who it hurt.

  Brin mentally begged Radd to stand up to the witch!

  “I’m sorry you think that, Naledi.”

  What? That was it? Come on, Radd, do better!

  “The food is mediocre, the service second rate and I’m really not happy with the flowers.”

  What? Radd told her she’d loved the flowers when she’d arrived! And how dare she criticize Mari’s staff when they’d been run off their feet with ridiculous requests. And the food was divine!

  “I’m afraid it’s not possible for anyone move into the spare villa, Naledi, it’s privately owned and isn’t part of the lodge,” Radd said.

  “Well, call the owner and get permission!” Naledi retorted. “Come on, chop, chop!”

  Brin felt her temper catch alight. Man, she sounded just like Kerry. What, did these socialites and influencers all go to bitch school?

  “It wasn’t a suggestion, Radd, I need an extra room. And you, Mari—is that your name?—get your act together. And tell your staff to do the same. I do not want to have another conversation about your lack of attentiveness again.”

  Radd would say something now, of course he would. He wouldn’t let her revolting attitude go unchallenged. When neither Radd nor Mari defended each other or themselves, Brin decided she’d heard enough.

  Stomping across the room, she stepped into the narrow hallway and took in the scene before her. Radd stood statue-still, his face a cold, hard mask and Mari’s eyes held the fine sheen of tears.

  Naledi, dressed in a pair of skin-tight shorts and a tiny top, looked like she was enjoying herself immensely. It is dangerous, Brin thought, but someone has to say something. Then, This isn’t your fight, retreat now and keep the peace.

  She wanted to, and Brin felt herself take a step back, the tension making her throat close. How many times had she been in Mari’s position, desperate for someone to be the voice of reason? To stand up for her, to stand up for what was right?

  It would be easy to walk away, she’d done it a hundred, five hundred, times before. Walking away was what she did. And did well.

  So walk away then...

&nbs
p; She wanted to, she did, but her feet refused to obey her brain’s command. You’re not really going to insert yourself into this fight, are you, Brin? It’s not your problem and you don’t handle confrontation well. You can’t, at the best of times, stick up for yourself, remember?

  But she could try, just this once, stick up for Mari and her staff and restore a little balance.

  “Good morning, Naledi.” She, at least, could aim for a modicum of politeness.

  Naledi gave her an up-and-down, not-worth-my-notice look. The last of Brin’s hesitation fled and her only thought was...oh, game on.

  “Did you dump an extra dose of bitch tonic in your coffee this morning, Miss Radebe?” Brin asked her, making sure her voice was loaded with disdain.

  “Excuse me?” Naledi spluttered.

  “You are acting like a spoiled child,” Brin told her, keeping her tone low. She knew, from dealing with her sister, that cutting sentences quietly stated had far more of an effect than loud accusations.

  “Brinley, stay out of this,” Radd told her, his voice as hard as granite.

  Not a chance. Not now that she’d begun, anyway. She ignored Radd’s order and held Naledi’s dark, dismissive eyes. “Mari and her staff are wonderful and incredibly talented, and you know it. They deserve an apology and, better yet, to be treated like human beings and not your personal slaves. Furthermore...”

  “Brinley, enough!”

  “Too late, Radd. If you won’t stick up for them then I will!” Brin told him, furious at his lack of support for his people. “I know how Mari and her people feel, it’s deeply frustrating trying to please people who refuse to be pleased.”

  Brin’s temper was slow to erupt but unstoppable when it did, and she was fast losing control of it. The combination of having her morning of passion interrupted—would that ever happen again?—her disappointment in Radd for not sticking up for his people, and feeling like she’d rolled back six months and was dealing with her sister again was a volatile combination.

  Hauling in some air, she sent Naledi a scathing look. “God, if your fans could see you now. You’re acting like an entitled, spoiled, complete witch. And here’s a fun fact, the world does not revolve around you.”

 

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