Page 24 of Billion-Dollar Baby Shock

Yes, he did. Because he’d lived it. And he would do whatever it took to ensure he protected Niko from ever feeling as abandoned as he had. So this trip with Tara would mark the start of establishing some very necessary boundaries.

In your bed? asked a mocking voice.

Dion shut it out. He was in control here. Tara would stay well within the boundaries he was going to set for her. In his bed until such time as he no longer wanted her, and at a remove from the far too cosy domestic idyll they’d been enjoying since she’d appeared in his life.

* * *

Tara had never been to Paris. There had been a trip in her last year of school but she hadn’t gone because her younger sister hadn’t been well.

The Eiffel Tower sparkled now under a clear starlit sky like an ornament, instantly recognisable.

The streets were wide and tree-lined. Sophisticated bars with people sitting outside around tables, drinking wine and eating.

Tall, beautifully designed buildings soared high into the sky, windows lit up giving glimpses into high-ceilinged apartments, full no doubt of elegant people sitting around tables talking about all sorts of intellectual things.

Another poignant reminder of all she’d missed and another reminder of the man who was opening up her world in so many ways.

They’d taken a flight from the airport on the island and Tara had found a bag packed with an array of clothes and her personal items on board.

She’d looked at Dion. ‘How do you do this?’ She hadn’t even thought about the fact that they were flying to another country.

Not that the staff in Paris had checked her documents.

They’d been waved through to Dion’s car like VIPs.

He’d said, ‘Magic.’

Tara had snorted to hide how seductive it all was, being in Dion’s life where things materialised and getting from A to B was like magic.

And now this, driving through the streets of Paris in a chauffeur-driven sleek SUV.

Dion had been on his phone for most of the flight and was on his phone again, speaking in Italian.

Tara couldn’t deny she was so impressed with the way he had single-handedly formed himself into this formidable titan of industry.

No wonder he wanted to pass it down to someone, but she wondered if he’d even considered that perhaps he was hungering for more than that.

That he’d wanted to create a family for himself.

She couldn’t help her insides knotting a little at that provocative thought. That perhaps Dion could be persuaded to think of her as part of that family.

And create an even bigger family?

A mixture of excitement and trepidation washed through Tara. Was she really ready to contemplate raising another family?

Yes, because this was vastly different.

This would be born out of love and commitment, not grief and pain.

‘Tara?’

Tara’s head swung around so fast she almost got whiplash.

Dion had stopped talking on the phone and was looking at her.

She went red. If he had any idea how far her thoughts had just strayed— love!

She went cold at the thought. The man didn’t want a family.

How many times had he told her that? And he certainly didn’t feel anything for her apart from this wild chemistry.

He wanted rid of her as soon as that burnt out. She couldn’t afford to forget that.

She forced a smile. ‘Yes?’

‘We’re here.’

Tara’s gaze moved beyond Dion to the name on the hotel where they’d stopped. Her eyes widened. It was an iconic and instantly recognisable name.

Dion was saying, ‘I have an apartment here.’ He got out of the car and came around to her door.

Tara felt very self-conscious now in the jeans she’d changed into.

At least she was wearing a silk top and a smart jacket.

And flat brogue-style shoes. And her hair was still relatively tidy from the event earlier.

Dion took her hand to lead her into the hotel. A distinctive scent teased her nostrils in the plush lobby and Tara realised it must be one of those signature scents.

A manager met them, bowing to Dion, and led them straight to an elevator, where they were whisked smoothly upwards to the top level and down a corridor to a room on the end.

Dion’s apartment was on a corner with views over what seemed to be all of Paris. The Eiffel Tower in the distance. There was a terrace. The manager exchanged a few words with Dion and then left.

Tara turned around and around, taking it all in. Too stunned to speak.

‘It’s just an apartment.’

Tara stopped and looked at Dion. ‘If you think this is just an apartment then maybe you really have lost your soul.’

Dion stalked towards her. He’d changed too, into dark trousers and a long-sleeved polo shirt. Light leather jacket. He looked suave and dark and unbelievably sexy.

He backed her up against a door and put one hand over her head, and, with his other, he found her waist and hip. He bent his head and kissed her and she pressed her body against his.

He pulled back for a moment to say, ‘Don’t think you can save my soul, Tara. You’ll only get hurt.’

Tara looked up at him, and said bravely, ‘I have no intention of getting hurt, Dion. Don’t flatter yourself.’

He smiled. ‘Good.’

Feeling a little overwhelmed with how many emotions Dion was evoking within her, Tara moved her hips against him suggestively, shamelessly focusing on the physical.

Dion arched a brow and smiled, and his smile made Tara’s heart turn over.

He looked so much younger and less brooding when he smiled.

She could catch a glimpse of the young boy and man that he could have been if given half a chance.

The rush of emotion when she thought of that was so huge that she stretched up and put her mouth to his to try and defuse it.

Thankfully he seemed equally inclined to focus on the physical and Tara felt herself getting weightless as Dion scooped her up into his arms and carried her through the apartment to the bedroom.

* * *

Dion had specifically initiated bringing Tara with him to Paris so they could indulge themselves and burn this thing out. It astounded him to think that they’d only met less than a week ago and yet he couldn’t seem to remember what his life had been like without her in it.

But as he sat here now in front of a boardroom of his employees, the last thing on his mind was work.

He was remembering waking at dawn and how Tara’s arm and leg were flung over him and holding him down and how his first reaction to that hadn’t been one of rejection or claustrophobia. It had been to pull her closer.

When he’d realised that, he’d extricated himself so fast he’d been light-headed. She hadn’t woken, just moved slightly, giving him an even more tantalising view of her naked body.

Before he could stop himself or give into the urge to wake her and continue what they’d been doing hours before, he’d scooped her up and taken her over to the guest room.

Sex, yes . Anything more intimate? No way.

And yet, as Dion sat here now with his team, who were discussing the hugely exciting project of managing the reconstruction of one of Paris’s most iconic art deco buildings, all he could see was her face as she’d appeared looking sexily dishevelled and sleepy, in a robe, just before he’d left that morning.

A couple of hours earlier…

* * *

When Tara woke she knew she was alone. The bed felt cold around her.

She cracked open her eyes and it wasn’t Dion’s room with its soft brown and dark gold furnishings.

Not that she had taken all that much detail in last night.

She’d been embarrassingly eager to get naked and lie back and let Dion use her body like an instrument that only he could play.

And he had obliged her. Over and over again. Showing Tara that, contrary to her view of herself as being quite boring and responsible, she had a capacity for sensualism that astounded her.

But there was nothing sensual about finding herself naked, in another bed, with the covers pulled up to her chin. She tried not to let the hurt in. The hurt that Dion was so expressly making the point that he didn’t want her near him unless they were making love.

Having sex, she amended.

And then she told herself she should be grateful. If she’d woken wrapped around him like a limpet, she might not have been able to hide her emotions.

Then she heard a noise out in the apartment and a little rogue devil inside her made her jump out of bed and pull on the robe that had been left on a chair nearby. Along with her clothes. That little detail made the hurt dissolve to be replaced by something else more volatile.

She went out into the apartment and stopped at the doorway leading into the dining room, her recent surge of adrenalin fading a little when confronted by the sight of Dion’s broad back. A blue shirt tucked into dark trousers. Hair still damp.

Then he turned around and Tara wasn’t even sure she remembered her own name. He was clean-shaven, hair swept back. Breathtakingly gorgeous.

‘Hi,’ she managed to crack out.

‘Morning.’ He gestured to the table that was full of breakfast things that smelled delicious, especially the coffee. ‘Help yourself. I have to leave in a couple of minutes.’

Tara felt bereft already and that reminded her. She lifted her chin. ‘You could have woken me last night. I would have gone to the other room. You didn’t have to carry me.’

Like a sack of potatoes.

It was galling to think she’d been so out of it after the pleasure he’d wrung from her body that she hadn’t even noticed being moved.

A small cup of coffee was halfway to his mouth. Tara could have sworn she saw a twinkle of amusement in his eye, which made her emotions surge again.

He said, ‘It was no problem. I didn’t want to disturb you.’

Tara held back the waspish response, It’s a bit late for that.

Then he said, ‘There’s an event this evening, a charity banquet to raise funds for different charities.’

‘And this is relevant because…?’