Page 15 of The Billionaire's One-Night Baby

Pleasure peaked and peaked again. She was so close. All she could think about, concentrate on, was the sizzle, waiting for the moment she burst into flames.

As if sensing she couldn’t take any more, Jago drove into her, deeper and harder, demanding more from her. Her lungs tightened—who needed to breathe anyway?—her skin flushed, and her channel throbbed as she teetered on the edge of an earth-shattering climax.

He did something, she knew not what, and then her orgasm hit, incinerating her. But, strangely, she still needed more and she begged Jago not to stop. Knowing her body better than she did, he pushed his hand between them to find her nub while his hips pistoned into her. Dodi felt herself reignite, and when she felt his release she stepped into another fire, this one filled with pyrotechnics. She became colour, luminescence flowed through her veins, kaleidoscope patterns formed on her skin. Magic, witchery, sorcery...

She’d thought of him as a warlock and, man, maybe that description was closer to the truth than she’d realised.

CHAPTER FIVE

ALITTLEMOREthan a month later, Jago looked up at the sharp rap on his door, looked through the glass—all the walls to their offices were glass—and gestured for Micah to come inside. He held up his index finger, asking Micah to wait, and returned his attention to the high-pitched squawking in his ear.

His head of Human Resources had a dozen reasons why her weekly report wasn’t in his inbox and none of them held any water. Jago ended the call and shook his head. ‘People,’ he told Micah, knowing he’d understand his frustration.

‘People,’ Micah agreed.

Jago looked across the room to where Micah stood by the window, taking in the view of the sprawling city of Johannesburg from his admittedly impressive office. Both he and Micah negotiated with some of the most powerful men and women on the continent—politicians, dignitaries, and deal-makers—so when they’d had their offices redecorated a year ago they had wanted to impress. They’d demanded clean and streamlined decor, offices with the most up-to-date technologies, including touchless computing and big screens for remote conferencing. His space was elegant, luxurious but, because it was where he spent so much time, also comfortable. He liked it.

It was coming up for noon and the midsummer heat rising off the buildings made the dusty, smoggy air shimmer. Micah looked harassed, Jago realised, an unusual state for his normally sanguine twin. His hands were in the pockets of the grey designer chinos he’d teamed with a light blue shirt and a navy jacket. Because he had a meeting with conservative investors later, Jago wore another expensive suit—a navy blue stripe with a white shirt and burgundy tie. Boring as hell, he admitted. Dodi would not approve, but he looked sober and serious, exactly the impression he wanted to convey.

‘What’s up?’ Jago asked Micah, forcing a memory of Dodi, lying naked on his bed, her red hair rippling across his pillow, freckles flowing across her satiny skin, away. It had been four, nearly five weeks since she’d left his house as the rising sun shattered the night, got into her car and driven away. Thirty-three days of silence, seven hundred and ninety-odd hours of trying not to think about her.

Of wanting her again, wishing he could have a replay of that truly spectacular night...

He saw Micah’s mouth moving, realised he hadn’t taken in anything and held up his hand. ‘Sorry, say that again?’

Micah frowned at him. ‘It’s not like you to ask me to repeat myself...’

‘It’s been a long morning.’

Micah walked towards his desk and gripped the back of one of his leather and chrome visitors’ chairs, a deep frown pulling his eyebrows together. ‘Thadie called me, in an absolute state. Someone cancelled their booking at the wedding venue.’

He didn’t understand. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Somebody called up the venue, said she was Thadie’s wedding planner—she actually used the wedding planner’s name—and explained that the wedding was off and that they should keep the deposit for the inconvenience. The venue, as you know, has a waiting list a mile long and they’ve already slotted someone else in.’

It took Jago a few seconds to understand what he was hearing. ‘Jesus...are you being serious?’

‘Deadly.’

‘But surely they’d check? The wedding is one of the biggest in the country—why would they dismiss such a huge event on a phone call?’

‘Ah, it was followed up by an official-looking letter from the wedding planner and a fake email from Thadie.’ Micah looked as if he was grinding his teeth. ‘Could they have tried harder to confirm? Sure. But they had the deposit and another function to fill the space, so they weren’t too concerned.’

What fresh hell was this? Jago rubbed the back of his neck as his brain kicked into gear. ‘What now?’

‘Well, apart from tracking down the person who sabotaged her big day—’

‘Who would do that? And why?’ Jago demanded.

‘She’s had an uptick of trolling on her social media accounts since their engagement was announced. There’s been a raft of nasty comments but nothing that grabbed her attention. Unfortunately, she did name the venue on her social media feeds, so the world knew where they were going to hold the reception. Anybody could’ve cancelled it.

‘We could sue, kick up a fuss, but it doesn’t change the fact that we need to find a venue that can accommodate a thousand people in less than six weeks,’ Micah pointed out. ‘Thadie asked me for help. Thank God we own an events company so I’m roping in one of their top consultants to help me find a venue.’

‘Great idea,’ Jago replied. He looked away from Micah and through the glass walls of his office saw a flash of red hair topping a pale face. His heart pounding, he watched Dodi cross the large reception room, stopping to talk to his PA.

What the hell was she doing here? They had an agreement...onenight. Then nothing. No contact.

And why did he feel so damn glad to see her? Why was his heart skidding around his ribcage?

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