Page 5 of The Billionaire's One-Night Baby

Of course she thought about it! Every day. Sometimes more than once. But she couldn’t tell him that. ‘Do you?’ she countered on a whisper, still unable to pull her hand away.

‘Yes.’

How often? When? What do you remember? It took all her willpower to keep her questions behind her teeth. And even more not to dive in for a repeat performance. It had been so long since she’d been kissed by anyone, let alone someone with superior skill.

Jago tugged his card from her grip and Dodi blinked, then blushed. She sat back and pushed her hand through her hair, telling herself to stop acting like a complete dolt! It was a quick kiss, nothing special...

If she’d been kissed more, had more people kiss her, she wouldn’t think about him so often. It was simply a question of numbers...

Right.

Dodi needed to put some distance between them, some time to gather her thoughts. Dodi folded the invoice in two, handed it to Jago and tapped the credit card machine with her finger. ‘I’m just going to put the machine and Thadie’s folder away, so that she doesn’t see either when she arrives.’

Jago nodded. ‘Good idea. If she sees what the dresses cost, she’ll insist on paying for them herself, and that’s not going to happen. Her wedding is our gift to her and Clyde.’

Dodi saw doubt flicker in Jago’s eyes at the mention of his soon-to-be brother-in-law and tipped her head to the side. Did Jago not like Clyde or was her imagination running wild? She dismissed her suspicions, thinking she was doing Clyde a disservice. As she well knew, breaking into the Le Roux inner circle was incredibly hard and Thadie’s brothers were intimidating. They were both tough, take-no-prisoners direct. They were successful, supremely wealthy, incredibly powerful men and Thadie wasn’t a shrinking violet either.

She’d known the family for a decade and when she attended the odd function at Hadleigh House, the Le Roux family home, she still felt like an outsider looking in. Clyde needed time to fit in.

‘Paying for her wedding is an incredibly generous gift,’ Dodi commented.

Jago shrugged. ‘It’s what my father would’ve done. He wouldn’t have spared any expense, and neither will we.’

Dodi kept her eyes on his tanned face, taking in the finer details of his masculine features. He was in his late thirties—thirty-eight to be precise—and long hours working had put tiny lines next to his eyes, grooves next to his mouth. He was a stunningly good-looking man, but even hot guys couldn’t stop life from leaving its marks on their faces.

And why did she feel the urge to smooth his frown, to kiss his tension away? To wrap her arms around his very broad back and hug away his stress? And then take him to bed to make him forget?

Wow! Where had all that come from?

They’d been talking about Thadie’s wedding and her out-of-control imagination—or her libido—had steered her in a completely different direction.

Enough of that, Davis!

They’d had a moment years ago, for God’s sake! Jago Le Roux was her best friend’s brother and completely out of bounds. And way,wayout of her league.

Walk away, dump your stuff and find your brain, Dodi.

CHAPTER TWO

DODIWALKEDAWAYand Jago tipped his wrist to look at his watch and wished he were back in his penthouse office suite, working. He felt out of place in this peach and pink feminine room, and a huge sneeze, brought on by the subtle scent of what had to be dozens of cut flowers, threatened. Pushing it back, he rested his forearms on his knees, and swiped his thumb across the screen of his smartphone. Within the emails he saw one with the subject name ‘Lagos’ and his thumb hovered over it, poised to open it. He knew the email pertained to a shopping mall they were building in the city and scrolled down. The real estate, retail and hospitality arms of the business were Micah’s baby and he had enough on his plate dealing with the mining, manufacturing and agricultural businesses in their portfolio. Jago watched as new messages and emails landed, feeling incredibly weary. Needing a break, he pushed the side button and his screen turned black. He placed his phone on the cushion next to him and rubbed the back of his neck. Work never stopped and he took calls and received emails and texts twenty-four-seven.

He and Micah could both do with a clone, or three. And that was why he didn’t have the time or energy to waste looking at wedding dresses in ultra-pretty salons. He wouldn’t be here for anyone else but Thadie. He—and Micah—would move mountains stone by stone for their baby sister.

Jago watched as Dodi crossed the room to a wedding-dress-lined hallway. This was only the second time he’d been in her shop—or any bridal salon. Anju, the least interested bride in history, had worn a cream trouser suit to their civil wedding and hadn’t bothered with a bouquet. Afterwards, they had both gone back to work and met up with his family later for dinner at a local restaurant.

They’d spent nothing on their wedding, but Thadie’s wedding was edging close to a million. If not a lot more. Dodi’s wedding dresses cost the price of a small car.Each.The champagne was imported, as was the caviar. The caterers were the best in the country and the entertainment was a hot Los Angeles singer-songwriter he’d never heard of.

It was pure insanity. Jago rubbed his jaw and reminded himself that his dad would’ve paid anything to give Thadie what she wanted. And more. There was no doubt that Thadie had been his favourite child, the apple of his eye, the one who could do no wrong. And, in this instance, he agreed with his father. Thadie, along with her twin boys, was—and always would be—the best part of their lives.

Jago looked at Dodi’s slim back, his eyes trailing over the loose curls of her long hair as she stopped in the hallway and straightened a picture frame. Over the years her bold red hair had deepened to a deep Titian red and yeah, with her willowy build, pale skin and flowing locks, she looked like a muse of those pre-Raphaelite artists. She was missing the melancholic expression though, as her feelings raced across her face and jumped into her smoky blue eyes.

And yes, she had freckles—how could she not with her complexion? Lots and lots of them, darker on her straight, haughty nose, paler across her cheeks and forehead.

After losing his self-control after Lily’s funeral, Jago had deliberately avoided Dodi. When he had to be in her company, he ignored her as much as possible, acting as if their kiss hadn’t redefined the word for him. Before that sad day, the connection of lips had been another GPS point on the route to the destination—a great orgasm. It was enjoyable, sure, but not, to his mind, necessary. Everything had changed when he kissed Dodi. He’d never admit this, not even under extreme torture, but as his mouth had met hers he felt the DNA that formed the stars and the starfish, the mammoths and man, luminesce deep inside him. When he had kissed her, touched her fabulous skin, he felt for the first time in months and years alive and connected.

And utterly out of control.

He still thanked God Thadie had chosen that moment to call Dodi, to break their passionate connection. She’d saved him when he hadn’t been able to save himself...

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