The Billionaire Brother Series

scrub, trees, and other natural vegetation. Nathalie followed his car into the circular drive surrounding a rock fountain. The house was like something out of a Fr

ning fluidly at the corners. Perched on a hill, there was an expansive valley view out the back. From the angle of the house to the drive, she could see an infinity pool, water pouring over its edg

based solely on its excellent safety record, and her heels clicked on the concrete as she headed to the open garage door. Lights came on inside, revealing several expensive cars whose value she could only guess. Probably a million dollars in gleaming metal, at the very least. Darius swept out a hand. "Welcome to my playground

rness over her, nearly caressing her as he'd done so, and she flushed again. She didn't like this awareness of a man she could never be with in a million, billion years. Her cravings for a rush, for thrills, were shoved way down into a secret place-whereas his were out in the open. She'd seen dozens of photos of him on the Internet, a different woman on his arm each time. They all had hourglass figures and wore sexy designer dresses that had probably cost as much as her car. Clearly, he was a player. Yet, he was kind to Zion and obviously took great pride in building things with his own hands rather than simply hiring minions to do it for him. Nathalie couldn't put the pieces of the puzzle that was Darius Spencer together in a way that made sense. Maybe if she knew more of his story the way he already knew hers, things might become clearer. But since she doubted she or Zion would ever see him again, Darius Spencer would have to remain a mystery. Needing another distraction from the heat still rising inside her, she pointed to grease-stained overalls hanging on the wall. "Looks like you've been doing a whole lot of work on your cars recently." "Like I said, cars are my thing. They always have been, since I was a kid. Even now, I can always count on them when I'm looking for a rush." "Can I sit in the car, Darius?" Zion called from across the garage. "Sure, go ahead." Darius leaned against a workbench, his arms crossed, drawing her attention to his broad chest. "So Jeremy lives with you?" She forced herself to concentrate on his words, not his impressive muscles. "Yes. We live in our parents' home in Peiscke Altera. He's better with familiar things around him." "And what do you do for a living?" "I'm a corporate recruiter." She felt she ought to explain why she was wearing a suit today. "I had an interview this morning." "On a Saturday?" He looked impressed. "Dedicated." "I enjoy my job." And she truly did love matching people up with the job perfect for them. "No brothers, no sisters?" "Just me and Zion. No cousins, either." "So you take care of him all on your own?" "Yes. And we're fine that way." Thank God Zion chose that moment to run back to them. She felt like she'd been under Darius magnifying glass. He was even better at asking questions than she was, and that was pretty impressive, given that she asked questions for a living. Why, she had to wonder again, was Darius at all interested in her and Zion when they were never going to see each other again? Perhaps she shouldn't be so wary when he'd been nothing but nice so far, but after her experiences with the last two men she'd let get close-and after she'd watched the way the wealthy father of the teen who'd hit Zion had used his money to buy them out of any trouble-Nathalie simply couldn't trust blindly anymore. "Can we see the other garage, Darius?" Zion was a bundle of energy, even more so than usual. As though he felt he had to take big bites of Darius world before it was gone. "Sure," Darius said as he fished in his pocket for a remote. "But there's no Maserati Alfieri 1960 over there." "I know," Zion said sadly. "Maybe if I close my eyes and wish hard enough, there could be one day." He did, squeezing his eyes shut. Darius laughed. "Sorry, I'm no genie in a bottle. Not today, at least." He pointed his remote at the closest door and it rolled up to reveal a sporty red vehicle. "The Lamborghini," Zion said in whispered awe before running toward the sports car. To Nathalie, his feet always seemed one step away from stumbling, but thankfully, Zion didn't fall. "You don't have to do all this," she said apologetically. "I'm enjoying it," he said again. "I like your brother. I don't often meet people who are as excited about cars as I am." He grinned at her. "He t

*

hould build the car, most of which came down to the fact that it was awesome. And Zion was right-it was a truly incredible car. Having finished the Mercury Cougar a few months before taping Hot Cars, Darius could use another project now. The problem? As he'd told Nathalie, there was no such thing as a Maserati Alfieri kit car. Then again...his friend Argus Montefalco had recently told him about a guy in Europe who could scrounge up just about anything. Darius started to get an idea, one that fired him up. He'd told Zion he wasn't a genie, but maybe he could grant the boy's wish after all. He pulled out his phone to call Argus, and his friend answered on the second ring. "You're interrupting." "What? You watching paint dry?" "More like a dozen cameramen all groaning since we're going to have to do this take over," Argus told him. "Whatever you've got to say, make it snappy so that I can get back to it." Despite their razzing, Darius knew his friend was happy to hear from him. They didn't get together nearly enough lately, not since success had pulled the five of them in so many different directions. It was why Argus had picked up Darius call in the middle of a take for his home improvement show. Darius would drop anything for any of the Baddricks, even if he was