Page 7 of Billion-Dollar Baby Shock

Before he lost consciousness in a sea of pleasure Dion thought to himself, She was a virgin, that’s why it was so amazing , and, I can never see her again.

* * *

When Tara woke she knew exactly where she was and what had happened. But superstitiously she didn’t want to open her eyes and find herself in the small windowless room at the Athens hostel and risk realising it had all been a dream.

Her body felt weighted down and languorous. A soft island breeze skated over her skin. She wasn’t a virgin any more. She was a woman and her eyes had been opened to a level of sensuality she possessed that she’d never dreamed of. Her! Responsible, studious Tara.

She smiled. She ached in secret places and couldn’t help but feel a deep thrill. She’d never known it could be like that. So transformative. She felt changed. Altered.

And as for the man…the stranger…the God. What a man. A man who had awoken this fire inside her, a fire that was already hungry again… She turned over and reached out an arm, expecting to find solid warm muscle, but found…nothing.

She cracked open her eyes and squinted at the faint dawn light in the sky beyond the room. She was alone in the bed. The sheet was pulled up over her body.

Where was he?

She sat up slightly and noticed her crumpled dress draped over a chair.

She also noticed a robe at the end of the bed.

She got up and pulled it on. She went into the en suite and balked when she saw herself in the mirror.

Her hair was a wild tangle around her head and her skin was pink with stubble rash.

Her mascara had melted and made her eyes look bruised.

She couldn’t see him like this. She let the robe drop and stepped into a shower big enough for at least three people, which only had images of him and other women at the same time flooding her brain.

He’d been so… sexual . And easy with it. Confident. Clearly he was experienced and she must have proved very pedestrian to him. He was probably ordering the helicopter back right now.

Tara didn’t linger under the hot spray, she got out and dried herself roughly and did the best with her hair, finger-brushing it and leaving it damp.

She pulled on the robe again and went out of the bedroom and followed a scent of coffee back into the living space, but she was momentarily distracted by the stunning view outside the open French doors.

She stood by the edge of the pool and watched as dawn made the horizon between sky and sea disappear into a milky pink haze. The water of the pool blended into the sky and sea in an infinite melding of water and sky.

Duh, that’s why it’s called an infinity pool.

Tara could almost hear her brother’s voice in her head. She smiled a little at the thought of him and at herself for behaving so out of character. Who would have thought she’d end up on a Greek island losing her virginity to the sexiest—?

‘Coffee?’

Tara whirled around at the sound of his voice. He was standing a few feet away holding a cup. He was dressed. And looked as if he’d showered. Clean jaw. Wearing dark trousers and a light blue shirt. Different clothes. She felt instantly at a disadvantage in the robe.

Last night suddenly felt like a long time ago. He obviously couldn’t wait to get out of the bed.

‘Sure,’ she said, hoping she came across as nonchalantly as he did.

He walked back inside and she followed to see a sleek kitchen and dining area. He poured coffee into a cup and asked, ‘Milk?’

‘No, thanks.’

He handed her the cup across the top of the island between them. She noticed he was quick to let go. In case their fingers touched.

He asked, ‘How are you this morning?’

Tara took a quick sip of the coffee. ‘I’m fine. Thank you.’ Clipped. Civil. Cool. Was this really the same man as last night who’d whisked her off to this island to seduce her? Seduce! snarked a voice. There wasn’t much seducing going on.

Then he said, ‘You should have told me you were innocent.’

* * *

Of course he’d known. It must have been so obvious. Tara felt heat climb into her face. She’d long given up trying to control her emotions appearing on her skin.

He asked, ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

Tara lifted her chin, refusing to be embarrassed, even though her face must be beaming like a beacon. ‘It wasn’t really your business…and… I was afraid you might stop.’

His eyes were dark more than golden today. He sounded grim when he said, ‘I wanted to, as soon as I suspected.’

But he couldn’t? Was that what he was leaving out?

Then he said, ‘I don’t sleep with virgins.’

‘Well,’ Tara pointed out, ‘you just did.’ And then, ‘Why not? How can you even tell?’

His jaw tightened visibly. ‘The women I’m used to…meeting…are usually more experienced.’

And a million other things, Tara was sure.

Feeling vulnerable, she said a little testily, ‘Well, I don’t think it’s catching, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

For a second she thought she saw the flash of surprise in his eyes and a faint smile at the corner of his mouth, but she must have imagined it because he said coolly, ‘Last night won’t happen again.’

Tara was beginning to wonder what she’d seen in him. This man was nothing like the suave seducer of last night. ‘We already agreed that.’

‘There’s a dressing room stocked with clothes in the guest suite opposite my bedroom. There should be some things there in your size. Antonio is on his way to pick us up and bring us back to Athens.’

Tara tensed. ‘I thought you said you don’t bring other women here.’

‘I don’t. But the villa is rented out from time to time and having a supply of clothes is practical for the kind of guests who stay here.’

Angry with herself for displaying that moment of insecurity, Tara drank the rest of her coffee and said, ‘Thank you, I’ll get changed and be ready to go.’

She swept as elegantly as she could from the kitchen in her robe and bare feet. So much for waking in bed with her first lover and indulging in lazy morning sex and a cosy breakfast.

While passing through the living area she spotted her discarded shoes and picked them up, and then noticed her evening bag on a table. She grabbed that too. She found the guest suite and walked into the dressing room, a vast space.

He’d been right. There were racks of clothes in a range of sizes for men and women. Even some children’s clothes. She went cold. She’d completely lost track of why she was even in Greece.

She pulled out a pair of navy knee-length tailored shorts and matching short jacket, which she teamed with a white sleeveless silk shirt. She couldn’t wear the heels again—her feet were still sore from last night. She found a pair of wedge espadrille sandals and put them on.

She found a plain black carry-all bag to put the shoes into, and also the dress which she retrieved from his bedroom, careful not to look at the bed.

She went back into the guest bathroom and did her best with the basic supply of make-up products.

At the last second she remembered to check her phone and took it out of the evening bag to see a text-message response from her brother after telling him where she was last night.

She opened it and her blood ran cold as she read.

Nice location, sis. So you found Dionysios Dimitriou then? How did he take it? Are you at his villa to meet the baby? What’s he like?

Tara stared at the text message. It didn’t make sense. But it also did. But…how? Of all the men at that party last night… It was like some cruel joke. It couldn’t be true that she’d slept with the father of her child. Maybe this wasn’t his villa—maybe he was one of the guests he’d just spoken of.

Maybe he was trying to impress her by making her believe it was his villa. Maybe that was why he was so eager to get off the island. To get her off the island…

Feeling a little numb, Tara left the guest suite and went back to the kitchen where the man— Dionysios?

—was looking at his own phone. In the distance Tara could hear the faintest thwack-thwack of the returning helicopter.

He couldn’t wait to get rid of her. But that was the least of her worries right now.

He looked up and at her when she came in, his dark gaze sweeping her up and down. She was too numb to care what he thought of her clothes choice.

Somehow she managed to formulate the question, ‘Are you Dionysios Dimitriou?’