Page 46 of The Billionaire's One-Night Baby

Dodi bit down on her bottom lip and stared at her tightly linked hands. ‘For a minute there, I was so happy, despite feeling like I’ve been run over by a truck. Our baby is fine and you prioritised me over your very important board meeting. You came to find me, and you were there for me. I felt at peace, knowing and trusting that you would be there for me, that you’d never let me down.’

But...because, hell, there was a great big but to follow.

Dodi rubbed her hands over her face and when she dropped them she looked stricken. ‘But despite that, you still don’tgetit, you don’tgetme. I promised myself I’d never allow myself to be pushed around again, would never permit someone to force me in a direction I didn’t want to go.’

God, he was a moron. Why hadn’t he considered that? What the hell was wrong with him?

Dodi met his eyes, and hers were filled with pain. And not because she was physically hurting. ‘Give me a reason why you’d do this, Jago. Please.’

Jago cursed the fact that he had no defence, that he could find no words to make it right. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, that he’d acted out of panic and passion, that he couldn’t imagine not having her in his life so he’d taken steps to get her there. But the words stuck on his tongue, and he was unable to push them past his teeth. He’d never told a woman that he loved her, didn’t know how. He could negotiate multi-billion deals, had, reputedly, balls of steel, but not when it came to love.

He didn’t know how to explain, what to say. What words to use. How todothis.

Dodi shook her head, closed her eyes. ‘This isn’t going to work, Jago, it can’t work. We’ve been kidding ourselves, confused by the attraction between us. You need to have control, and to plan and protect and I can’t or won’t be controlled, shoved into situations you think are best for me.’ Dodi’s voice was soft but strong and very, very resolute. She slid out of bed, gathered her clothes and nodded to the small bathroom. ‘I’m going to change and you’re going to leave.’

He opened his mouth to tell her that she didn’t have a ride home, but she held up her hand and shook her head. ‘I’m going to call Thadie, ask her to come and get me. And no, I won’t badmouth you to your sister. But you’d better call Jabu and tell him to replace my stuff, and inform him, and anyone else you told, that I willnotbe moving in with you. Not today, tomorrow or any time in the future.’

Well, that sounded bloody final. Jago rubbed the area above his heart and watched her walk into the bathroom and close the door behind her. When he heard the lock engage, he knew that it was over and that he’d lost the only woman he’d ever loved.

And he’d done it within two months. He knew how to work fast, but that had to be a record...

Dodi walked into her busy salon and handed the sample dress to a consultant, watching the bride’s eyes light up when she presented the frothy princess-style ballgown. She danced on the spot and her smile was as big as the sun.

She ran a reverent hand over the puffy tulle, her expression wondrous. ‘I’ve been dreaming of this moment since I was eight. Trying on a dress, looking like a fairy-tale bride.’

God, another one who was so caught up in the nuptials and wasn’t looking beyond the big day. Dodi handed her a tight smile and did an internal eye roll. ‘I think it will look wonderful on you.’

She watched the bride walk towards the dressing room and rubbed the region above her heart. Since leaving Jago’s house nearly a week ago, her heart felt heavy and full. She had acid in her stomach, and tears gathered in her throat. She missed him, so much. She felt like she was walking around with a red-hot heart, one that was, at all times, one bump away from disintegrating.

‘She might be young but she’s not rushing into this with her eyes closed.’

Dodi turned to look at the bride’s mother, sitting on the two-seater sofa next to where she was standing. She hadn’t even noticed the well-dressed woman sitting there, hair and make-up perfect. What else hadn’t she noticed while she was wallowing around in her Jago-induced funk?

Dodi pulled up a polite smile. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.’

The older woman cocked her head to the side. ‘Now, that’s not true. You think she’s only thinking of the wedding, hasn’t paid any attention to being married, to being in a committed relationship for the rest of her life...’

Dodi rubbed her fingers across her forehead and gestured to the seat next to her. ‘Do you mind?’

‘Not at all. I’m Dee.’

‘My name is Dodi. I own this salon.’

Dee peered at her. ‘Are you Lily’s granddaughter? You look like her!’

Dodi smiled. ‘I am. I inherited the store when she died.’

Dee scrunched up her nose. ‘I’m so sorry to hear that. Lily fitted me with my wedding dress and she’s the reason why I’m celebrating my thirtieth wedding anniversary this year.’

Dodi turned to face her, her attention snagged. She loved hearing stories about her grandmother. ‘Really? What did she do?’

‘She talked me out of my grand five-hundred-person wedding,’ Dee said, her eyes alight with amusement.

Dodi’s mouth fell open. ‘What?’

‘Mmm. I was one of those brides, so caught up with the wedding and the pomp and ceremony, that I didn’t think of anything else. Your grandmother sat me down, asked me about my fiancé, what he did, what he liked, his hobbies and his politics. I couldn’t answer any of her probing questions about him and it irritated me.

‘Then one day my then fiancé’s brother gave me a lift to this salon and walked in with me. Your gran asked about him and I could tell her his favourite colour, that he hates olives, that he’s allergic to bees and that Faulkner is his favourite author. She let me rattle on about Grant and, without her saying a word, I realised I was marrying the wrong brother.’ She winced. ‘It took about three years before the family forgave me for ditching one brother for the other. Four years later I returned here to buy dress number two.’

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