Page 3 of Billion-Dollar Baby Shock

Tara did as she was bid. He was even taller from the back. And broader. She could see that his hair was dark and thick. Longer than she might have thought. Brushing against the edge of his collar.

He brought her outside, where tables had been set up with candles flickering.

People were sitting and eating as the sky darkened over Athens and lights illuminated the iconic city.

The Acropolis was lit up on a hill nearby.

Tara hadn’t had time to fully appreciate where she even was, she’d been so desperate to get here.

She had to find Dionysios Dimitriou.

And yet here she was having food with a total stranger.

He pulled out a chair at an empty table on the wide terrace and she sat down, telling herself that she did need to eat and it would be better to meet the father of her child when she didn’t feel faint from hunger.

Are you sure it’s not the stranger’s effect?

He sat down opposite her and Tara took a quick sip of wine to give her some courage. She put the glass back down. ‘Thank you. I wasn’t sure what the protocol was.’

He speared some meat and put it in his mouth, utterly unfazed by this whole scene. He shook his head, ‘No problem at all. You might still have been dithering if I hadn’t taken pity.’

She could see the gleam of something wicked in his dark eyes behind the mask and her heart pounded and her skin felt hot. ‘I wasn’t dithering… I just wasn’t sure what to choose.’

He lifted his glass. ‘Yamas.’

Tara lifted hers too and felt a strange unsettling motion as if the earth had just shifted on its axis for a second. ‘Cheers.’

She ate to try and stave off the strange feeling but it was still there every time she sneaked a glance at the man across the table. When she’d eaten enough to feel a little less…hollow, she wiped her mouth and sat back.

He’d finished eating. A clean plate. She observed, ‘You were hungry too.’

Enigmatically, he said, ‘I learnt a long time ago never to leave food behind.’

Before she could fully absorb that or respond he asked, ‘So how do you know Leo and Angel Parnassus?’

Tara knew they were the hosts of the party.

Her brother had drilled that into her. She said, ‘I’m a big fan of Angel Parnassus’s jewellery.

’ She wasn’t lying. She’d looked her up online and had immediately coveted the delicate subtle pieces.

But there was no way that Tara could possibly ever afford even the tiniest item the woman designed.

The man said, ‘Her work is amazing.’

‘It is,’ Tara agreed, happy she had at least done some research.

He noted, ‘And yet you’re wearing no jewellery tonight?’

Tara flushed. She hadn’t brought any with her. Rookie error. And it wasn’t as if she had much jewellery anyway. Her mother’s modest collection had been shared between her and her two sisters. She’d got her mother’s engagement ring but she hardly ever wore it for fear of losing it.

Before he could totally distract her and before she lost her nerve she leant forward. She saw how the man’s eyes dipped to her chest and then back up again. She tried to ignore the effect that had on her, like a hot twisting, melting sensation settling low in her belly. Between her legs.

‘Actually I am here to find someone.’

He took a sip of wine and sat back. ‘Oh?’

Tara tried not to notice how big his hands were, masculine, and yet he didn’t look ridiculous with the delicate glass between his fingers.

‘Yes…the thing is that I’m not even sure what he looks like…

He’s reclusive.’ All her brother had been able to find out about industrialist Dionysios Dimitriou online had been intimidating facts and figures about his billion-dollar business that he’d built up from nothing.

There had been grainy photos of a tall and dark man on construction sites. Any pictures from events like this never seemed to capture his face, always the side, or back. Invariably he was with a beautiful woman but never pictured with the same woman twice.

He was an enigma. The press called him a lone wolf. And, when Tara glanced back into the crowd, there seemed to be plenty of men who were tall and dark. How on earth was she going to do this?

Then the man said, ‘What’s his name? Maybe I can help.’

Tara looked at him. She was a little shocked to find that she was about to tell this man who she was looking for.

And she realised that if she told him he might ask more questions and she might find herself spilling why she’d come here to a complete stranger.

It was up to her to do her own digging and she was getting distracted.

A waiter appeared at that moment and efficiently cleared their plates.

It gave her a second to gather her wits.

When they were alone again Tara stood up.

‘Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.

And thank you for…’ She trailed off. She’d been about to say for being nice , but this man didn’t look nice .

He looked dangerous and dark and was far too distracting.

‘I should let you get back to the party. I’m sure you have more exciting things to be doing.’

More beautiful women to talk to.

The man stood too. ‘Dance with me before you go?’

He held out a hand. Couples had started dancing inside, swaying to the smooth sensual music.

Tara felt torn. On the one hand she’d come here on a mission and yet she’d never expected this whole scene to be so…

magical. Or for this man to appear and rewire her brain with an awareness she’d never felt before.

She’d rarely, if ever, taken time out for herself since her parents had died.

She’d become mother and father overnight in spite of her aunt and uncle taking over guardianship.

They’d been lovely and had been financially supportive, but they hadn’t been there in the way she and her siblings had needed.

Hands on. Taking care to notice all the little things, like when her youngest brother, Oisín, had started spending too much time in his room on his own, gaming.

It was only since he had recently gone to university that Tara had felt as if her foot had finally come off the accelerator pedal. They were all adults now. And she’d missed out on so much. Not that she would ever, ever, regret it, or feel bitter about it. She’d just done what had to be done.

But now this man was looking at her and asking her to dance.

She’d never even gone to her school debutante ball.

She was still a virgin at the age of twenty-five.

And that realisation made something rebellious move through her.

A desire to seize this moment. Because, all of a sudden, Tara wasn’t sure if she was fully ready to find the father of her baby, because once that happened, she’d be a mother again, and who knew what would happen once she confronted the father?

She might have to fight for access. And as for what would happen after that?

She hadn’t even really gone there yet…all she knew was that she had no intention of not being involved in her son’s life.

So, would it be so bad to postpone things for a little while? No, whispered a little voice.

Before she could overthink it, she put her hand in the man’s and noticed with a little thrill how small and pale her hand was in his.

His fingers curled around hers and she noticed they felt rough.

This man was no mere businessman. He got his hands dirty.

An electric current ran through her right to her core as he led her back into the vast ballroom.

He turned to her at the edge of the dance floor and she walked into his embrace, wondering if this was all a dream and she’d wake up in the cramped seat of the budget airline she’d used to fly to Athens from Dublin.

But no, as soon as her body came flush with his and she felt the whipcord steel muscles, and the heat rose within her, she knew this was all too real.

He had one arm around her back and his other hand held hers against his chest in a close embrace. Tara felt as if she were floating. He moved like a dream and all she could do was follow.

He also smelled amazing, like nothing she’d ever encountered before—earthy, musky with a hint of something like an exotic spice. Dark. Masculine.

She’d been staring at a point on his shirt at her eye level and now she looked up and almost lost her footing. He was staring at her so intently it was like a physical touch on her skin. Skin that was prickling with heat all over.

His jaw was hard. She could see where a growth of stubble was appearing and had the most bizarre notion to wonder what it would feel like against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.

He stopped dancing. Tara went cold. Had she said that out loud? It was quite possible. But then he was taking her hand and leading her off the dance floor and back out onto the terrace. She took a gulp of fresh air but the lingering heat of the day didn’t do much to cool her blood down.

He led her over to a secluded corner and turned to face her.

* * *

Dion wanted this woman, that was clear. But it wasn’t following any kind of pattern he was used to where if he found a woman attractive they would engage in a well-worn dance that both he and the woman understood tacitly.

For him it was very much a physical thing to scratch a sexual itch.

He never had any desire to prolong the experience beyond bed.

He liked sex. He didn’t like the strings that came with it.

And yet, he knew that this woman, this situation, was different. But he couldn’t seem to care.

He wanted to see her. He asked, ‘May I take off your mask?’

She swallowed and then nodded jerkily, turning around. Her skin was amazing, the most delicate translucent pale. Dotted with those freckles. He untied her mask and resisted the urge to bury his hands in the coppery silken strands of her hair and undo it.