Page 27 of The Billionaire's One-Night Baby

His hard eyes slammed into hers and Dodi saw the turbulence within all that grey. He didn’t speak and she bit down on her bottom lip, wondering whether to push forward or retreat.

His body language screamed for her to back away, to give him some space, that he wasn’t ready to discuss his dead wife with her or, knowing Jago, anyone at all. This was a no-go area, a field pitted with conversational land mines, and Jago was on the other side of the fence.

Safe but still so very wounded.

So why did she want to push him? She had no right to, and she hated it when people tried to do a deep dive into her psyche. She prized her emotional privacy, and she should respect Jago’s.

It was only fair.

She stood up abruptly and lifted her hands in a conciliatory gesture. ‘I’m sorry, I have no right to pry. It’s got nothing to do with me.’

Jago didn’t reply and after staring at his still form for a minute she grimaced, then sighed. ‘I’ll wait for you downstairs and, if it’s okay, I think I’ll skip dinner. I’m pretty tired.’

Dodi turned to walk out of the room, her heels echoing in the empty space. She was at the door when Jago cleared his throat.

‘I didn’t want her forgotten. That’s why I haven’t packed up the house.’

Turning, Dodi put her hands behind her back and rested her open palms on the wall behind her. She looked across the room and saw that Jago had pushed his hands into the pockets of his suit trousers. His shoulders were still raised, and his eyes were filled with emotional whirlpools.

‘You must’ve loved her so very much, Jago. And I’m so sorry you lost her.’

Jago’s head snapped up, his expression puzzled. He looked as if he wanted to disagree with her, to tell her that she had it wrong. No, that didn’t make sense at all. He’d married Anju, and the few times she saw them together they’d seemed happy in a busy, modern, non-affectionate way.

What was she missing here? ‘You did love her, right?’ Dodi asked, confused.

Jago shrugged. ‘Love never really came up.’

What?

Jago removed the gold cufflinks holding the cuffs of his shirt together at his wrists and shoved them into his pocket, quickly rolling his shirtsleeves up his muscled, tanned arms. His veins under the skin were raised, the way they always were on super-fit guys. Sexy.

Don’t get distracted, Dodi.

Jago looked around the room and shrugged. When he spoke again, his voice was rough with pain. ‘Within two, three weeks of my mum dying, my dad had the staff pack up everything that was hers, every last thing. He didn’t consult us or ask us if there was anything of hers we wanted.’

Dodi’s head jerked up, and her lips parted in surprise. Partly because he was opening up, partly because his words were so bizarre.

‘Sorry?’ she asked, not sure she was hearing him correctly.

His small smile was sour. ‘He stripped the house of her, basically eradicated her presence from his life, from our lives. He donated all her clothes to charity, sold her jewellery at a specialised auction, burned her diaries and personal documents.’

Odd, Dodi thought. And so, so sad.

‘And six weeks later he was dating Liyana,’ Jago said, his voice flat and emotionless. Right, she was beginning to realise that the less emotion there was in his voice, the more deeply ran his emotions.

Jago looked around his old bedroom. ‘I suppose that’s the real reason I haven’t packed up this house. I didn’t want Anju forgotten.’

Dodi tipped her head to the side. ‘I think that’s part of it...but that’s not the only reason.’

Jago gripped the bridge of his nose. ‘Jesus. How did you figure that out?’

Not having an explanation, Dodi shrugged. He could see below her surface as well. Fair was fair, she thought. ‘Will you tell me the other reason you’ve held on to this house?’

He pushed his hand through his hair. ‘Ah...that would be Theo’s fault. My father didn’t approve of me marrying Anju. He said that I didn’t know what I was doing and that I was making a mistake. He refused to help me buy a house and wouldn’t let me stay in any of the many rental properties Le Roux International owned. I refused to listen to him, and our relationship, never easy, soured. By marrying, I was defying him, and he was determined to make it as hard as possible for me to do that.

‘I used the money my mum left me, took out a huge mortgage and bought and designed this house,’ Jago explained. ‘It’s the only asset I have that’s not tied into the complex web that is Le Roux International, that isn’t connected, in any way, to the business or the family. It’s mine. In every way.’

‘And why is that important to you?’ Dodi asked.

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