by Joss Wood
Going back to Johannesburg wouldn’t be that bad—it was, after all, what she knew. She’d have a good salary, a decent car to drive, financial security. And after having her heart broken by Radd—her fault for thinking that she could capture his attention and his love—her sister’s and mother’s snubs, criticism and demands wouldn’t have the power to wound her.
They would be like the gentle flick of a whip compared to being eviscerated by a blunt teaspoon.
Stupid girl for allowing this to happen, for not guarding your heart. For falling into the arms of a man who she knew was so very far out of her league. Never again, Brin vowed.
She was done with men and love.
Permanently.
“Brin...”
Brin lifted her head to look at her friend as she stepped onto the pavement at the top of the steps. She knew that Abby meant well, but she just wanted a little peace, some time to nurse her broken heart, her bruised spirit. She needed time to recover, to mourn what could’ve been.
“Can you just leave me be, Abs? I’m tired and sad—” Abby’s hand shot out and her fingernails dug into the bare skin on her arm. Abby was looking to her right, and Brin followed her gaze.
Radd.
Brin drank him in, all six-foot-something of him, dressed in a lightweight grey suit, his tie pulled down from his collar, leaning against the hood of his fancy car. He’d been to Naledi’s wedding, Brin dimly remembered, but he must’ve left shortly after the ceremony was done. Why wasn’t he at the reception and, more importantly, why was he here?
Radd straightened, sliding his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. Aviator sunglasses covered his eyes and he looked as he always did, implacable and remote.
Nothing has changed, Brin thought. So, instead of walking over to him, she turned and walked in the direction of Abby’s car. She heard Abby behind her, hurrying to keep up with her long-legged stride.
“Talk to him, Brin!” Abby pleaded.
“There’s nothing to say,” Brin replied, tugging on the handle to the passenger door. “I’m begging you, Abby, take me home.”
“I’ll just follow you there,” Radd said from behind her. “We need to talk, Brin.”
Brin spun around, anger temporarily drowning her sadness. “I think we covered all the bases yesterday, Mr. Tempest-Vane.”
Radd winced. “Yesterday I was being a bloody idiot. Today, hopefully, I’m less of one.”
“Doubtful,” Brin snapped.
“Come home with me, Brin. Let’s try and sort this out!”
“There’s nothing to sort out,” Brin told him, her voice rising.
“Now, that’s a lie,” Radd replied. “We have a lot to discuss and you know it.” Radd turned his attention to Abby and gave her a small smile. “Go on home, Abby, I’ll drive Brin to wherever she wants to go later.”
Brin narrowed her eyes at Abby. “Don’t you dare leave me, Abigail.”
Abby shrugged. “He’s my boss, Brin. And he’ll fire me if I don’t do as he says.” She raised her eyebrows at Radd. “Won’t you?”
“Damn straight.” Radd soberly answered.
Did they think she was stupid? Radd wouldn’t fire Abby for such a trivial reason, and they both knew it. No, she was being maneuvered into having a conversation with Radd and she didn’t like it. Frustrated with both of them, she threw up her hands and pulled out her phone.
“Fine, I’ll call for a taxi or an Uber.”
Radd moved quickly, and she caught a hint of his cologne as her phone was yanked from her hand. Radd tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket and folded his arms.
“You and I are going to talk,” Radd told her before shoving his sunglasses into the inside pocket of his jacket. “Go, Abby.”
Brin heard Abby’s car door opening, followed by her engine starting, but she couldn’t pull her eyes off Radd’s. With dark stripes under his red eyes, he looked like he’d had even less sleep than her. His olive complexion was pale in the late afternoon light.
But his eyes, God, his eyes...
She could see a hundred emotions in those inky eyes: fear, regret, pain. It was as if he’d stripped every layer of protection away and allowed her to step into his mind and it was, like hers, in turmoil.
Radd gestured to an empty bench that faced the sea. “I have some things I need to say and, afterwards, if nothing resonates with you, I’ll take you home, no questions asked.”
Brin looked around and saw Abby’s car exiting the parking lot. What choice did she have? Abby was gone and, since Radd had her phone, she was out of options.
“How did you know I was here?” Brin demanded as they walked over to the bench.
“I texted Abby, she told me.”
What a traitor! Her best friend had known she was about to be ambushed and she’d said nothing. They would, Brin decided, be having words later. Whose side was she on?
Radd waited until she was seated before sitting down next to her. He shed his jacket and placed it on top of her beach bag sitting on the bench between them. Rolling up the cuffs of his sleeves, he stared out to sea.
“The sea looks so inviting. Was the water warm?”
Brin rolled her eyes. He wanted to talk about the temperature of the sea? Really? “Is the water ever warm in Cape Town?” she asked, sounding acerbic.
“I can’t remember when last I spent any time on a beach.”
“That happens when you spend all your time at work,” Brin snapped, folding her arms across her chest. She couldn’t do this, it was too hard. She couldn’t sit here and pretend everything was fine when she loved him so much. It was like having a blowtorch blistering her body, one painful inch at a time.
“I paid you your money this morning. It should be in your account soon,” Radd told her.
“I don’t want it.”
Radd released an impatient snort. “Brin, we made a deal. You worked through the night to fulfill your end of the bargain. Mine was to pay you and that’s done.”
“I don’t want your money,” Brin replied, sounding stubborn.
“I don’t care. Our business arrangement is over,” Radd replied.
Yeah, she got that message loud and clear. Why had he come all this way to tell her he’d paid her? He could’ve texted her or sent her an email.
God, she was exhausted and her brain felt like it was on the point of exploding.
“Please take me home, Radd,” Brin begged, not caring if he heard the hint of tears in her voice.
Radd pushed his hands through his hair before turning to face her. He lifted his hand, and his thumb swiped away the one tear she hadn’t managed to blink away. “Please don’t cry, Brin.”
“Then stop making me cry and leave me alone!” Brin cried, placing her face in her hands.
“I can’t, sweetheart,” Radd’s reply sounded tortured, but the hand he placed on her back was strangely reassuring. “I can’t walk away from you, I don’t want to walk away.”
Brin dropped her hands, but she wasn’t brave enough to look at him, so she looked at the dune grass growing in the beach sand a couple of feet away from their shoes. “That’s not what you said yesterday.”
“Yesterday wasn’t one of my better days.” Radd released a heavy sigh. His hand moved up her back to the back of her neck, which he gently held. “Won’t you sit up and look at me, Brin?”
Brin reluctantly straightened, and it took quite a bit of courage to meet his eyes. This was the stripped-down version of Radd, and all his feelings were reflected in his eyes. And he was feeling quite a lot, which was odd for her implacable, once-in-a-lifetime lover.
“I treated you badly yesterday, Brinley, and for that, I beg your forgiveness,” Radd quietly stated. “I should’ve, yet again, stood up for what was right instead of what was convenient, and I disappointed and hurt you.”
He had and he did. She couldn’t argue with that.
“I should’ve told Naledi to get lost when she demanded to see your phone, I should never have invaded your privacy like that. I should’ve trusted you.”
Brin nodded, not quite ready to let him off the hook. “Yes, you should have.”
When Radd didn’t say anything for the next few minutes, Brin stood up, her heart smothered by disappointment. What had she expected? For him to tell her he loved her? Silly, silly girl.
“Now that you’ve got that off your chest, will you take me home? Or better yet, allow me to call for a taxi. Or a lift.”
Radd took her hand and tugged her back down, his hand sending sparks over her skin, up her arm. She was still as attracted to him as ever, damn it. Why was life torturing her like this?
“I’m not done,” Radd told her.
“Well, get done,” Brin retorted. She couldn’t take much more.
He turned to look at her, and Brin’s lungs contracted at the look on his face. It was part insecurity, part hope, all fear. “I’ve never told someone I loved them before, so I’m bound to botch this up. Give me a sec, okay?”
What? Wait! Did he just say something about love or were her ears playing tricks on her? It was highly possible. Brin laid her hand on her chest. “What did you say?”
Radd sat up, his eyes connecting with hers. “I wanted to say this with finesse, with some sort of eloquence, but nothing, despite practicing all the way here, is coming out right. So...sod it.”
He clasped her face in his hands before swiping his mouth across hers. “I’m a fool and an idiot, but I’m the fool and idiot who loves you to distraction. Oh, God, you’re crying again.”
Brin allowed a little laugh to escape and waved her hands in front of her face before gripping Radd’s strong wrists with her shaking hands. “Can you say that again?”
Radd kissed her nose, her cheekbones and then her temple. “I love you, Brinley. So much.”
Her tears started to fall in earnest. “But, yesterday, you told me you didn’t see me in your future.”
Radd sighed, his breath warm against her temple. “I was scared and confused and being a jerk. I thought that the mine and my work were all that was important and I wanted to keep the status quo. Loving you is new, scary territory, a place where I have no control, and I don’t like giving up control.”
“So what changed between then and now?” Brin asked, leaning back so she could see his face.
Radd dropped his hands from her face but placed one hand on her bare thigh, as if he needed to anchor himself to her. He looked away briefly before facing her again. “I had a conversation with Digby. He said that I was acting like a cat on a hot tin roof and wanted to know why I wasn’t being my calm, distant self.
“Since I met you, I’ve felt more than ever before, certainly more since Jack died. The world seems a little brighter, a lot more colorful.” Radd winced, looking embarrassed. “God, that sounds too cheesy for words. As I said, this is all coming out wrong.”
Brin shook her head, her heart slowly defrosting. “No, every word is perfect. Carry on.”
“You want more?” Radd pulled a face at her.
“No, I want everything,” Brin softly told him. “Don’t hold back, Radd. I’ve never had anyone tell me they love me before, so feel free to go overboard.”
Radd’s thumb stroked her cheekbone. “Oh, sweetheart, I intend to make you feel ridiculously loved every day for the rest of your life. You, not the mine, not my work, not my brother, are now my priority, and making sure you are happy is my biggest goal. I want you to have the money, not only because that was the deal, but also because I want you to have your dream. You are so talented, and I want you to open your florist-and-coffee shop.”
Brin’s nose wrinkled, her expression doubtful. “You’d support me in that?”
“Sure. You’re far too bright and talented to sit at home, waiting for me to finish work. No, chase your dreams, Brin and I’ll support you as you do that.” Radd’s thumb traced the soft skin of her bottom lip. “I am so sorry I made you feel unimportant when you are everything that’s important to me.”
Brin bit her lip, looking up at him through her lashes. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
Brin stared at him, trying to compute his words, struggling to make sense of the bright, sparkly, glitter-tinged feelings coursing through her. Radd loved her.
Radd. Loved. Her.
Holy cupcakes. With sprinkles on them.
“Will you please say something?” Radd growled.
Brin saw the impatience in his eyes and decided to tease him, just a little. “What do you want me to say?”
“Well, an ‘I love you’ would be nice. And a ‘Yes, I’ll marry you, as soon as you like,’ would be better.”
He wants to marry me? Whoa! Really? Brin felt her heart leave her chest and take flight. Well, okay then.
“You haven’t asked me to marry you,” Brin pointed out, just managing to hold back her huge grin and her bubbling laughter.
“I will, as soon as you tell me that you love me too,” Radd replied, sounding a little cross.
“Who falls in love in a week?” Brin mused. “It’s crazy.”
“I do, and I hope you have too or else I’m going to feel like an even bigger fool,” Radd muttered. Brin heard the note of anxiety in his voice and knew that it wasn’t fair to push him any further. Because, like her, he’d lived without love for a long time and didn’t deserve to wait any longer.
“Of course I love you, Radd,” Brin quietly told him, her eyes begging him to believe her. “So much.”
Radd rested her forehead on hers and closed his eyes. “Thank God.”
“And I am sorry about not telling you about my connection to Naledi,” Brin said, resting her fingertips on his jaw, rough with stubble. “I didn’t want to go back to my family with my tail between my legs. I’m sorry if being related to Kerry caused you any problems with Vincent. I don’t want you to lose the mine because of something so silly.”
Radd sat back but he kept her hand in his. “Vincent will either sell us the mine or he won’t. Either way, I can live with it.”
“But it’s the company you need to restore the Tempest-Vane holdings to what they once were.”
Radd shrugged. “While it would be nice, Digby and I agreed that it’s not something we’ll lose sleep over. In a few weeks, my brother and I will meet and we’ll decide on what we want to do, without reference to the past and our parents.”
Brin rested her forehead on the ball of his shoulder. “Are you sure?”
Radd’s hand stroked her hair. “Very. It’s time for a new chapter, Brinley. Will you help me write it?”
Brin nodded and squeezed his hand. “I will. Ask me again.”
Radd tipped his head to the side, his expression puzzled. But it took just a few seconds for her words to register. And then her once hard-eyed, implacable man dropped to one knee in front of her, the late afternoon sun glinting off his dark hair.
“Brinley Riddell, will you marry me?”
Brin nodded once, then grinned. “On one condition.”
Radd groaned theatrically and gently banged his head against her kneecap. “You’re going to keep me on my toes, aren’t you?”
Brin’s laughter gurgled and bubbled as she ran her hands through his hair. “I want to get married at Kagiso and spend part of our honeymoon at The Treehouse.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged. I happen to know the owner. Is that a yes?”
Brin nodded, her eyes shimmering with emotion. “Yes, that’s a yes.”
“I’m going to kiss the hell out of you in a second, but I should tell you that I have a condition, too,” Radd murmured.
She was so happy she’d agree to anything. Brin grinned at him. “What’s your condition
?”
“That I buy you a new car. I refuse to allow you to drive that rust bucket anywhere,” Radd told her, frowning. “It’s not safe, Brin. I can’t bear the thought of you not being safe.”
“I was going to buy a car out of the money you paid me,” Brin told him. There were different ways to say I love you and this was one of them.
“Let me do it,” Radd said, looking serious.
Brin lifted a finger and pushed it into his chest. “I’ll agree to something sensible and reasonable. I do not need fancy. Or expensive.”
Radd bracketed her face with his hands. “Are we doing this? Getting married?” he asked, sounding a little bemused.
Brin laughed. “We are.”
“Thank God. I can’t wait to make you mine,” Radd muttered before surging to his feet and yanking her up and into his arms. His mouth covered hers and Brin sank into his embrace, knowing that he would hold her, that she’d found her person.
She was, finally, home and standing in a bright, golden spotlight all of her own.
* * *
If you found How to Undo the Proud Billionaire exhilarating look out for the next installment in Joss Wood’s South Africa’s Scandalous Billionaires duet
How to Win the Wild Billionaire
Keep reading for an excerpt from The Cost of Claiming His Heir by Michelle Smart.
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The Cost of Claiming His Heir
by Michelle Smart
CHAPTER ONE
THE ROAR FROM the watching crowd was deafening. Becky Aldridge, wiping tables in a deserted hospitality marquee, guessed Emiliano Delgado, owner and player of the Delgado team, had scored. Whenever the Delgado team had played during the past three weeks of the cup competition the spectating crowd had tripled. Becky had started work there knowing nothing of the polo world. She still knew nothing of the game, but of its star player she’d learned a lot. Mostly that everyone fancied him.