by Joss Wood
Brin, shaking with anger, jammed her index finger into Radd’s bicep. “Seriously, if you cave and open up that private residence, I swear I will never talk to you again.”
“Are you going to let her talk to me like that?” Naledi screamed at Radd. “Who does she think she is?”
Brin caught Mari’s eye and she lifted her chin in a quick movement that neither Radd nor Naledi caught. But Brin understood her silent message: Thanks for the support but enough. Now, retreat.
It was a good plan. Because if she stayed she might be tempted to scratch Naledi’s eyes out.
“Let’s all calm down, shall we?” Radd said, his voice perfectly cool and even. “Mari, escort Miss Radebe back to her room. Can you send a bottle of champagne, our best vintage, and have the staff squeeze some fresh orange juice for mimosas? And maybe a basket of croissants? I’ll catch up in a few minutes.”
“Of course,” Mari replied.
Brin felt Radd’s hands on her waist and she yelped as he easily lifted her and walked her backward into his villa. He kicked the door closed with his foot and backed her up against the wall. Brin looked up into his furious face and dismissed her fear. Radd would not hurt her, physically.
Emotionally, he could rip her apart.
“How dare you interfere in a situation that has nothing to do with you? You have no idea what you are risking!” Radd demanded, his voice coated in anger and disdain. “This is my property, my business, my guests, my staff. You are...”
She waited for the “nothing,” the “you’re not important,” but the phrases never left his lips. Instead they hung between them, loud and tangible.
Radd’s hands dropped from her shoulders and he shook his head, frustration rolling off his body in waves. “Don’t confuse my attraction to you with me giving you permission to meddle in my life, Brinley Riddell. Because that will never, ever happen. Understood?”
Radd waited for her nod before dropping his hands and leaving her, slumped against the wall.
* * *
Radd wasn’t a fool, he’d seen the disdain in Brin’s eyes hours earlier when he didn’t defend Mari or his staff. But worse than that was seeing her respect for him fade.
Radd, walking back along the wooden path toward his villa, jammed his hands into the pockets of his shorts, convinced that his head was about to split apart.
Five days ago, if someone had dared to interfere with his business, his decisions or his life, he would’ve, without hesitation, told them off and immediately broken off their liaison. Thanks to having a reputation of being cold as ice and unemotional, nobody, ever, questioned him. Few people had the strength or the guts, but Brin had simply waded into a battle that wasn’t hers to wage.
He was both frustrated and proud of her.
Radd rubbed his hands over his face, irked. Before she dropped into his life, his emotions were tamped down, buttoned-up, kept corralled and constrained. Brin, somehow and strangely, held the key to unlock a myriad of unwanted and unneeded emotions.
But she didn’t know, and he couldn’t explain, that he was caught between doing what was right—yes, he should’ve defended his staff—and what was needed, which was keeping the Radebes happy until the sale agreement for the mine was finalized.
Was the mine and the PR campaign worth it? In a few months, it would be the second anniversary of his parents’ deaths. Yeah, sure, some upper-echelon businessmen were still pissed at his father, at deals that went south, money that was lost. But, Jesus, that happened more than twenty years ago...
Did his actions still reflect on him and Digby? Was buying the mine, being manipulated by Vincent, hosting this damn week and the wedding worth all the crap and stress he was dealing with?
For the first time in, well, forever, Radd wasn’t sure whether it was. And, God this hurt to admit, was their stupidly expensive PR and marketing campaign just a way to boost his ego, an expensive way to show the world that you could get oranges from apple trees?
Would anyone, apart from him and Digby, and the workers at the mine, even care whether there was a new school, better working conditions, an increase in salaries?
Shouldn’t that be the norm, not the exception?
Radd rubbed his hands over his face, feeling utterly exhausted. And he still had to deal with Brin, who probably thought he was a weak fool. But she had no idea how much control he’d needed not to tell the spoiled socialite exactly what he thought of her and her asinine demands. That was why he had remained quiet, he’d been trying to control his own temper. Brin hadn’t held back and, while he did wish she hadn’t jumped into the fray, he couldn’t help but admire her for doing so.
Brinley, Radd was starting to believe, was a good person to have in your corner. But he knew that he’d lost that chance...
God, what a mess.
Radd walked into his villa and nodded to the housekeeper, who was smoothing down the cover of his enormous bed.
“Hey, Greta.”
“Mr. Radd.” Greta smiled at him as she carefully placed a pillow in the center of the bed. “I’ll just gather the dirty towels and get out of your way.”
“No hurry,” Radd told her, moving into the living area. Walking over to the always-open doors leading to his deck, he gripped the top of the frame and looked toward the plunge pool. Brin stood in the clear water, her slim back to him, looking through the rails of the balcony to the water hole below.
A couple of buffalo cows stood at the water’s edge and Radd scanned behind them, instantly picking out the rest of the herd standing in the dense bush. In the far distance, a giraffe and her calf ambled across an open patch of savanna. Not knowing how to break the tension between them—he knew that she was aware of his presence—he looked up at the sky, which was that perfect shade of African blue, so thick and heavy he could shove his hand through it.
Radd tried to break the heavy silence. “Let’s clear the air, Brinley.”
Brin didn’t pull her eyes off the water hole. Right, the silent treatment.
Excellent.
Radd dropped his arms, pulled his phone out of his pocket and placed it on the nearest table. Kicking off his flip-flops, he whipped off his shirt and walked over to the plunge pool, dropping into the heated water behind her.
Damn, the water felt good. The best thing—apart from feeling Brin in his arms—that had happened to him this morning. Pushing his wet hair off his face, Radd joined Brin at the side of the pool, his arms brushing hers, and she immediately pulled away and put six inches between them.
Yeah, getting back in her good graces wasn’t going to be easy.
Radd sighed, wondering why it felt so imperative for him to do so. She’d just walked into his life and in a few days she would be out of it, so why did he care so much about what she thought of him? He didn’t give a damn about how people viewed him, well, except for Digby and a handful of old, good friends. Women, let’s face it, were easy.
But Brin wasn’t. Easy, that is, nor was she run-of-the-mill.
She had a backbone he hadn’t expected, a fierce temper when roused by injustice. And complete disdain for anyone who used their position and power to intimidate.
He liked that. Hell, he liked her. More than he’d like anyone for a long, long time. And that was very bad news indeed. She had the power, damn her, to be the catalyst for him to change. He didn’t want to change, he liked his life the way it was.
“I sent lunch but was told that you didn’t eat either,” Radd commented.
“I’m sorry to have wasted the food, but I wasn’t hungry.”
Hell, he didn’t care about two plates of food; he wanted to know what was going on in her head. Brin reached for her sunglasses and slid them onto her face, covering her beautiful eyes. Like her conservative, full-piece swimsuit, her lack of eye contact was another barrier to regaining the easy, laidback companionship they’d shared before
.
And it had been easy; he enjoyed having her in his space and appreciated the fact that she didn’t need to be entertained. In the time they spent together alone, he felt completely comfortable reading a report or working while she read or dozed. And when they did talk, their conversation flowed. She had a self-deprecating sense of humor he enjoyed, and he found himself laughing at her wry observations. Her love for Kagiso was obvious, and she seemed eager to hear about his life on this farm as a child and tales of his wild Tempest-Vane ancestors, most of whom were eccentric. A few were certifiably nuts.
They’d been comfortable, relaxed and, dare he say it, happy.
Until the ugly scene this morning.
Radd opened his mouth to try to breach the distance between them, but Brin whipping her glasses off her face and tossing them onto the deck had his mouth snapping closed. When her eyes slammed into his, he saw her anger and, wait, was that embarrassment?
“I’m am very sorry I interfered this morning. You’re right, it had nothing to do with me and I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry if I put you in an uncomfortable position.” Brin hauled in a breath and managed, just, to meet his eyes. “I didn’t like the way Naledi spoke to Mari and I was upset that you didn’t stand up for Mari, for your staff. But you were right, it had absolutely nothing to do with me.”
Radd could tell, despite being a man and generally clueless, that she was still properly, deeply upset. He rubbed his stubble-covered jaw, trying to make sense of her extreme reaction. Yes, she and Mari seemed to like each other, but they weren’t best friends, so why was she so intent on defending her and his staff?
Making a concerted effort to keep his voice low and nonaccusatory—he was trying to understand, not start another fight—he asked for more of an explanation.
Brin hesitated before throwing her hands in the air. “You are part of their social group, a member of their elite club! You’re as powerful as them, certainly as rich! You should protect and defend those weaker than you, the people you employ!” Brin hauled herself out of the pool in a fluid movement, all long legs and feminine grace.
And damn, she was even more beautiful when she was furious. Radd couldn’t resist looking at her firm, high breasts. In the pool, against his shorts, parts of him were rising, too.
Not that she’d appreciate his response...
Brin’s eyes dropped down and widened when she saw his evident need for her. She threw up her hands and scowled at him. “Really?”
He shrugged. “I’m a guy, you’re wearing next to nothing, and I can’t help thinking about what we were doing when we were interrupted earlier.”
Brin stomped over to a lounger, snatched up her towel and wrapped it around her torso, hiding her curvy body. Damn.
Radd blew air into his cheeks and pulled himself out of the pool. He walked across the deck to where she stood, water running off him and darkening the planks of the light wooden floor.
“I wasn’t meaning to make light of your anger, but you’re an incredibly sexy woman, a woman I want.”
“That ship has sailed.”
“I gathered that.” Radd folded his arms across his chest and looked for words to regain some lost ground, preferably without having to explain why keeping the Radebes happy was so very important to him. She knew the basics, the surface stuff, but he couldn’t find the words to explain the PR campaign, rebranding their name, putting his parent’s ugly legacy to rest. Rebuilding a legacy they could be proud of...
“I need to keep the Radebes happy. Can we leave it at that?”
“At the risk of alienating your staff, losing their respect? My respect?” Brin’s words were as hard and cold as an Arctic wind. “Oh, but wait, our opinions don’t matter, because we’re not as rich or as powerful or as successful as you.”
“I didn’t say that!” Radd snapped back, stung.
“But it was what you meant!”
“The hell it was!”
A tide of red crept up Brin’s neck and he could see the light of battle in her eyes. Radd knew that he was in for another tongue lashing. He wasn’t wrong. And that was okay, he far preferred angry Brin to the subservient creature who’d apologized earlier.
“I know your type. Hell, I worked for people like you, Radd! I was blamed and castigated for things I didn’t do, things that weren’t my fault and over which I had no control! People like you, like my...like Naledi are entitled and demanding and disrespectful, and why the hell am I arguing with you about this?” Brin pushed her fingers into her hair, pushing away the long, wet curls. “This is ridiculous! Just get me out of here! Take me back to Cape Town!”
Oh, hell no. “Running away, Brin?”
“Just removing myself from your company,” Brin replied, turning around and walking into the room. Radd watched her go and, when she stopped suddenly, he looked past her to see Mari standing by the doorway, looking uncomfortable.
“Sorry, I knocked.”
His villa was like Grand Central Station today. If another person arrived uninvited, he just might lose it. Radd pulled in a deep breath, then another and tried to hold on to his temper.
“What is it?”
Mari sent him a Don’t mess with me look. Another female who was mad at him. Wonderful. “I had Simon bring a vehicle over and Chef has packed a basket of food for your dinner and breakfast.”
Mari turned her attention to Brin, sending her a sweet smile. “Thank you for sticking up for us, Brin, but it wasn’t necessary. We’ve had worse guests than the Radebe party and we know how to handle them. Mostly it’s best if you just let them rant and vent and then do what you intended to do all along. Radd knows this, as do I.”
Brin rolled her eyes at Mari’s calm statement.
Mari turned her attention back to Radd. “I think you and Brin need a break, and it would be sensible to put some distance between Brin and Naledi right now. She’s still demanding an apology from you, Brin.”
Radd’s “that’s not going to happen” coincided with Brin’s “I’d rather die.”
Mari rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers before refocusing her attention back on the pair of them. She was acting as if they were both high-maintenance toddlers. “Guys, that wasn’t a suggestion. And I think we could all do with a break.”
“I think Cape Town is far enough away,” Brin said, her expression stubborn.
“Let’s not get carried away, honey,” Mari said on a small smile. She turned to Radd. “Take Brin to The Treehouse, Radd. Leave now, while the Radebes are having their afternoon siesta. Your vehicle is parked by the staff quarters and you can avoid the lodge altogether.”
Radd nodded, thinking that Mari’s suggestion held a lot of merit. Maybe if he and Brin were alone, truly alone, they could recapture some of their earlier ease. And, even if they didn’t, they’d give Naledi time to calm the hell down.
And it had been a while since he’d been to The Treehouse.
Pulling a towel out of the pile on the shelf near the door, he swiped the cloth over his chest and rubbed his hair. Mari sent him a Get this done look and he gave her a small nod, hoping he could get Brin to agree.
How to do that?
He thought it best to stick to the facts and hopefully, whet her curiosity. “The Treehouse is a secure, completely private and lavish platform above massive boulders. Behind the structure is woodlands, and it’s my favorite place for watching the sun rise and set.”
Brin’s eyes narrowed. “How many beds?”
He couldn’t lie. “One. But it’s a huge bed and the same rules apply there as here. You’ve got to ask...”
“Yeah, that didn’t work out so well this morning.”
“It would’ve worked out fine if we hadn’t been interrupted,” Radd muttered, still feeling resentful. He now had to work ten times harder to get back to that place they had been, and Radd wasn’t sur
e if they would get there.
The thought depressed him. And the fact that he could feel depressed, depressed him more.
God, he was losing it.
Radd, irritated with himself and with Brin for not making this situation easier, found his patience slipping. “I’m going to The Treehouse. Come if you want to. If you don’t, fine.”
Brin took her time making up her mind and Radd forced himself not to display his impatience. This slip of a girl didn’t need to know how much she rattled him. And how much he hoped she said yes.
“Does this place have a shower?”
“Solar-powered.”
Radd sent Mari a Help me look, and she rolled her eyes before speaking. “If the lodge is a six-star establishment, then The Treehouse is a notch above. It’s a pretty special place, Brin, and you’ll regret not seeing it. It will be worth putting up with his company, I promise you.”
Thanks, Mari, Radd thought, narrowing his eyes at his old friend.
“Fine,” Brin muttered, stomping inside.
Mari smiled at him. “Prepared to do some groveling, Tempest-Vane?”
The hell he was! He was alpha to his core, groveling wasn’t part of his vocabulary. God, he wasn’t even good at apologizing! Mari’s eyebrows rose higher at his silence and he finally gave in, his shoulders slumping. “I might have to do a little damage control,” he reluctantly admitted.
Mari patted his shoulder. “Try not to hurt yourself trying something new, my friend.”
Ha-ha, Radd thought, glaring at her departing back.
CHAPTER EIGHT
WHAT WAS SHE doing in this vehicle? Why hadn’t she stayed in Radd’s villa and given them both some time apart and space to cool down?
Brinley pushed her sunglasses up into her hair and shook her head at her behavior. While she didn’t believe she had been completely in the wrong to defend Mari, she shouldn’t have jumped feet first into Radd’s business. And Mari, smart and independent, didn’t seem the type to need defending. But Naledi just pushed every button Brinley had...
