Page 29 of Billion-Dollar Baby Shock

Later that day , Tara was looking into her fully stocked fridge. She shook her head at how money could just conjure up things.

She took an apple out of the fruit basket and bit into it as she wandered through the apartment, stopping at one of the guest bedroom doors.

She and Georgia had designated that this room would be Niko’s as one of the doors opened into the master bedroom—Georgia, who had a young child of her own, about Niko’s age—was going to come back with some drawings based on their discussion of how to do it up.

The doorbell chimed. Tara’s heart stuttered even though she didn’t expect it would be Dion. But when she opened the door, he filled the space. She drank him in.

‘Can I come in?’

Tara stood back and swallowed the piece of apple in her mouth before she choked on it. ‘Of course.’

He was wearing a suit, tie slightly undone, top button open.

‘How’s Niko?’

‘He’s fine. He’s with Maria, she’s agreed to live in until we hire a second nanny, which hopefully won’t be too long. I’ve lined up interviews at the villa tomorrow. You’re welcome to sit in.’

A knife twisted inside Tara. She felt like pointing out that if she could be Niko’s full-time mother, he wouldn’t need to hire two nannies. But her being Niko’s full-time mother wasn’t an option.

‘Thank you,’ she said.

‘I’ve got something for you, downstairs.’

Tara took the key from the bowl inside the door and followed him into the elevator. It was only then that she realised what a state she was, her image reflected in the steel wall of the elevator. Wearing jeans, flip-flops and a loose shirt, hair pulled up haphazardly. No make-up.

But then the doors opened and she realised they were in the basement garage.

He walked over to a small black SUV. Sleek and stylish.

Roomy but not intimidatingly large. He zapped it and opened the doors.

The interior was as stylish as the exterior, enough controls to launch a space rocket.

And it was automatic. She looked at Dion, not comprehending.

He handed her the key. ‘You’ll need something to get around.

My drivers are at your disposal, of course, but I know you value your independence. ’

She looked into the back. ‘There’s no baby seat.’

‘I’d prefer if you used my drivers if you want to go anywhere with Niko.’

Tara looked at Dion. ‘Millions of mothers the world over are successfully driving their children around in cars without incident.’

A muscle twitched in Dion’s jaw. ‘I would prefer it for now. At least until you get used to driving in Athens. The traffic can be a bit nuts.’

Something melted inside Tara to think he was genuinely just concerned for their safety. She looked at the key in her hand and back to him. ‘I don’t know what to say… You really didn’t have to do…any of this.’

* * *

Dion kept waiting for some kind of sense of relief to wash over him. He was literally handing Tara her freedom and independence and yet when he’d shown her the apartment yesterday, it had felt all…wrong.

Far from relief, it was something much more complicated. He pushed the conflicting emotions aside for now and said, ‘Why don’t you take it for a spin now? You can bring me up to the villa and have dinner. There’s something I need to show you.’

Tara looked wary. ‘More?’

Dion shook his head and also pushed aside the revelation that any other woman he’d ever been with would be ecstatic to be given gifts. And he knew it wasn’t that Tara wasn’t appreciative, she just wasn’t remotely materialistic.

She couldn’t be less like your mother, pointed out a little voice. It jarred inside Dion.

He refocused. ‘Not as in a thing, it’s stuff online. The pictures of us together from the opera event and Paris. And news has broken about Niko. I’ve prepared a statement to go out that will hopefully take fire out of the story. I’d like you to see it before we send it out.’

Tara went pale, her freckles standing out. She could have passed for an art student right now but Dion had never wanted a woman more.

She looked at the car. ‘Drive up to the villa now?’

‘Might as well start to get used to it.’

‘I’ve never driven on the other side of the road before.’

‘I’ll guide you.’

But again, in the car, as Dion fought not to get distracted by her pale hands on the wheel and the way her thighs looked under the snug jeans, and as he instructed her where to turn and which side of the road to stay on, he felt that this was all wrong—not Tara driving, but the fact that he was handing her a tool to stay separate from him. From them.

* * *

The following morning, it took Tara a long time to figure out that she was in a new bed.

In a new room. In a new apartment. She turned her head.

The bed was dented slightly beside her. So she hadn’t dreamt that Dion had been here.

He’d insisted on accompanying her back to the apartment in her car, after dinner and after Niko had gone to bed.

He’d leaned against the door with one shoulder and had said, ‘Want me to tuck you in?’

Tara had longed to be able to say, No, thanks, and shut the door that he had put between them in his face, but after spending the evening with him and Niko all of her defences had been toast. She’d grabbed his shirt and pulled him to her saying, ‘Damn you, Dion Dimitriou,’ before kissing him and kicking the door closed at the same time.

But now he was gone and Tara could feel the silence of the apartment settle around her. It was unnerving. After growing up with four siblings, she was used to people being around, barging into rooms. Coming and going. The villa had been busy with staff.

But after last night she had an unnerving suspicion that this could become a pattern. Her mobile phone pinged and she looked at it. A text from Dion.

Interviews with nannies start at midday. I can send a driver for you?

Tara scowled at the phone and responded.

No, thanks, I’ll drive.

She threw the phone down and lay back on the bed. And then she picked up the phone again and did a search online and saw the headlines: Dimitriou introduces his baby mama to the world. Have they set a date?

Tara almost laughed at that one but she stopped laughing when she saw, Who is Tara Simons, the unknown woman who snagged one of the world’s richest men with the oldest trick in the book?

She threw the phone down again and groaned. She was well and truly a public entity now. But at least she could glean some comfort in the fact that she’d been established as Niko’s mother.

* * *

Later that day at the villa, Dion said, ‘There’s an event on Friday night. I think we should go. It’ll give us another opportunity to be seen together.’

They had just chosen the second nanny, together with Maria, who had also sat in on the interviews, while Thea had given Niko lunch.

Now Tara was sitting on the floor in Niko’s room, encouraging him to crawl towards her. She looked up at Dion. ‘Okay, sure.’

‘I’ll arrange for a team to come to your apartment to help you get ready.’

Tara opened her mouth to object but then closed it again. Who was she kidding? She needed help. ‘Okay.’

Dion looked at his watch. ‘I have to go into the office now… I’ll see you later?’

Tara caught Niko’s hands and he gurgled at her. She knew what Dion meant. That he would come to her for one thing only. And then steal away again. Like last night, she longed to be able to say, Actually, that doesn’t suit, but a part of her didn’t want to be all alone in that apartment.

She looked at him and sold a little more of her soul. ‘Okay.’

* * *

On the Friday evening, Tara was nervous.

The team Dion had arranged had just left.

Once again Tara could hardly recognise herself in the mirror.

Hair sleek and pulled back and over one shoulder.

A plain black silk gown, off the shoulder.

It oozed the kind of elegance that only a household-name designer could manufacture.

Tara took a selfie in the mirror and sent it to her fashion-designer sister, Lucy.

Not bad, hmm?

Two seconds later, a response.

OMG, is that really a—?

The doorbell chimed. Tara nearly dropped the phone and ignored her sister’s message, stuffing the phone in her bag. Dion was on the other side, in a classic tuxedo, but this time with a white jacket.

Tara wondered if he would ever not take her breath away. His eyes moved from her head to her toes and back up again. ‘You look…stunning.’

She felt shy. Ridiculous. Especially when she thought of how bold and insatiable she’d been the previous night, as if doing all she could to ensure Dion stayed. But when she’d woken, she’d been alone. Again.

‘My driver is waiting.’

Tara came out and closed the door. The journey to the venue—one of Athens’ most exclusive hotels—was short.

When the paparazzi realised it was Dion and Tara, they went crazy.

Screaming, shouting. Tara was trembling by the time they got inside and Dion pulled her to him.

‘I’m sorry, I should have realised it’d be worse, but they will lose interest, I promise. ’

Tara didn’t say it, but she thought it—they’d definitely lose interest when she was no longer by his side and relegated to being his baby mama with no other status.

Tara moved through the crowd with Dion but she couldn’t help but feel increasingly as if she were behind a glass wall. The separation between her and Dion had started with him sequestering her in her own apartment. Even though his arm was around her back, he might as well also be pushing her away.

At one point Tara slipped free and went and stood at the roof-terrace wall. The ancient city was laid out before her and she felt all at once excited but incredibly lonely at the thought of forging a new life for herself here.

It was also painful knowing that she’d be so close to her son, but so far. Kept at a remove.

Not to mention his father, pointed out a little voice.

She would have to look into her legal rights as his biological mother, maybe even demand joint custody—