by Mia Caldwell
He turned that too perceptive gaze on her, his blue eyes locking with her dark brown ones. “What about you, Nadia? Are you good with responsibility?”
“I like to think so,” she said honestly. “My father was a proponent of hard work and doing what had to be done.”
He nodded, looking pleased. “So there’s some hope for the boy yet. I hope he’ll allow you to influence him. I don’t want to deny him a full life filled with all the things he considers important, but I’m not getting any younger. I’ve been running this company since my son-in-law died, coming out of retirement to do so, and I’d like to hand over the reins before I lose all chance of returning to retirement for a while.”
“It’s an indelicate question, but may I ask how old you are, Harold?”
“I’m seventy-seven. The first time, I retired just shy of sixty after selling my company, intent on enjoying all life had to offer with my beautiful Sophia. We had almost five years together before she passed away, and then a year later, Jefferson was gone too. There was no one else to step in, because Caitlin didn’t know anything about his business, and the kids were too young. So here I am, twelve years later, and still waiting to pass on the burden to Sawyer.”
Nadia didn’t think that was going to happen anytime soon, but she didn’t want to bluntly state her opinion either. Instead, she tried a more diplomatic approach. “What about Kiersten? Is she interested in the company?” Perhaps he hadn’t even considered his granddaughter due to her gender.
He shrugged. “Kiersten heads up our marketing department, and she’s good at it, but she doesn’t want to do the managerial side. It’s just not where her interests lie, and I’m not going to force her into it.”
Nadia couldn’t help her hackles rising, surprised by how defensive she felt on Sawyer’s behalf. “But you don’t mind forcing Sawyer into something he’s not interested in?”
Harold surprised her with a hearty laugh. “I like you, Nadia. You’re good for him. I wouldn’t force him either, but I know he wants it. There was a time when he used to follow his dad everywhere, including to the office. Sawyer worked weekends and after school for his dad, learning everything he could about the company.
“He was a natural fit for taking over, and if all that hadn’t happened, he would be heading up the company today. I’m not trying to be hard on the boy, because I understand where he’s coming from, and I agree he deserves to live his life however he wishes, but I am trying to remind him of how much he once loved the corporation and the future he’d planned around it. I want what’s best for him, best for me, and best for the company and the people it employs.”
Her irritation faded, and she had to blink back tears from her eyes. “I see. That makes a lot of sense, and I wasn’t aware he had once planned to take over the company.”
He waved a hand. “Sawyer’s priorities might have changed. It could be as simple as that, and he might never want to run his family’s company again. If that’s the case, we’ll find a buyer, and I’ll be happy. I just don’t want to shed the place too soon and then have the boy wake up one day to realize he’s pissed away his legacy on partying, women, and sailing.”
The pollen must be high, because she found it difficult to breathe due to the stuffiness in her nose, not to mention the burning in her eyes. Nadia had to clear her throat a couple of times before that feeling passed. “I think that’s marvelous of you, Harold. I hope Sawyer makes up his mind soon. Have you told him how you feel?”
He hesitated, looking uncertain for the first time. “Not entirely. I guess I’m as bad about protecting him as the rest of this clan. I think I’ll approach the topic with him while he’s visiting us though and try to get a firm answer from him about what he wants to do with the company. I just don’t have it in me to keep it running any longer on my own. No interest, and I’d like to spend my golden years doing something besides working.”
Nadia wasn’t certain if he was waiting for her to offer to speak to Sawyer about the matter, and had she been in a real relationship with him, one that involved more than sex and lying to his family, she wouldn’t have hesitated to do so. Understanding the older man’s perspective, she found herself annoyed with Sawyer and his lack of responsibility all over again. Still, she wasn’t in a real position to speak to act as Harold’s mouthpiece or express her opinions on how frivolously Sawyer lived his life. Instead, she maintained silence.
With a nod, he released the hand he was still holding gently and turned his attention to the controls of the scooter. “On that vein, I have to return to work now. I enjoyed our conversation, Nadia, and I hope you’ll end up being a permanent fixture in my grandson’s life, no matter what direction he takes it.”
“Thank you,” she said in a slightly thickened voice, plagued by that irritating lump at the back of her throat again. She refused to label it as an emotional response and clung to the theory it was simply pollen, though she had never been allergic to anything in the outdoors before.
Chapter Seven
Sawyer had expected to find the shopping trip with his mother and sister interminably boring. For the most part, he had been right, but he was still here just the same. He hadn’t missed their not-so-subtle attempts to steer him toward the jewelry section of every place they stopped.
Neither his mother nor his sister would have done well in the game of corporate bluffing. They were playing their hand too heavy, pausing to admire all the beautiful rings. He could have disabused them of the notion he’d need one for Nadia with a sharp word or two, and that would’ve been the end of their clumsy attempts to get him to shop for an engagement ring.
Instead, he found himself indulging them, at least to a point. He always veered away from the rings to admire the other pieces. Already, he had acquired a few gifts for Nadia. It was one area they had overlooked when shopping, and it didn’t mean anything that he was thinking about how each piece of jewelry would look on her. It was simply a gift, another way to add a convincing touch to her wardrobe and veneer as his girlfriend.
So why was he imagining this striking pink sapphire heart on the bed of velvet placed against her creamy brown skin instead? Even worse, his eyes had strayed to the matching accessories in the display case, all featuring pink sapphires and including a prominently displayed engagement ring. The square-cut diamond surrounded by smaller pink sapphires should have sent him running in panic. Instead, he indulged a brief moment of imagining what it would look like on her finger.
He shook his head at that line of reasoning, warning himself to nip it in the bud right then. He liked Nadia, and he respected her, which was an unusual thing for him, since he rarely took the time to get well enough acquainted with a woman he bedded to know whether or not he respected her. He certainly enjoyed going to bed with her and imagined he could spend weeks learning her body, but that didn’t mean he wanted anything more than sex.
He and Nadia had clearly defined terms and boundaries, and it was the perfect setup. Thinking about crazy things like extending their arrangement—especially since they had been lovers officially less than a day, despite the pretense they were presenting to his family—was crazy. He didn’t want to settle down, and he certainly wasn’t ready to settle for just one woman.
There were too many women in the world and not enough time to sample them all. He had known the course he wanted to take over the last twelve years, and he had taken it. As soon as he’d become a legal adult, with access to his trust fund, though under the careful supervision of his hawkeyed grandfather, he had indulged in a life full of sensual pleasures, traveling the world, eating gourmet food, drinking the best wines, and sampling the most beautiful women.
Nadia could certainly hold her own against any of them, and he’d admit he wanted more than a brief sample, but that didn’t mean he wanted a lifetime of being chained to someone. She didn’t want that either, with her focused determination to win the America’s Cup.
Besides, it seemed pretty obvious she didn’t like or respect hi
m. Sawyer hated how much that bothered him, because other people’s opinions usually slid off him like water off a duck’s back. He lived his life how he wanted, without others’ input—his family being the sole exception, and he gave them only a little more leeway. So why did it matter whether or not Nadia liked him as long as she was content to have sex with him, which was something they both wanted?
He didn’t have an answer for that, at least one he liked, so he shied away from the question and returned his attention to the necklace. With an abrupt nod of his head, he passed over his black AmEx card and watched the jeweler wrap his purchase.
Moments later, the necklace tucked securely in the shopping bag to join the other bits and baubles he’d purchased for his new lover, he followed his mother and sister from that jewelry store, already looking forward to the pretext they would use to get him to the next store. Outmaneuvering their machinations was proving to be fun and a welcome distraction.
Nadia looked beautiful. Beautiful enough to feel like she belonged among the glittering crowd assembled before them. It had been five days, and their visit was drawing to a close. Caitlin had insisted on holding a party for all their friends to allow Sawyer a chance to visit with everyone he knew, and to introduce Nadia to their people. She had dreaded the prospect, but she hadn’t resisted. Sawyer had grumped a bit about it, but he had indulged his mother as well.
Still, she had been nervous about her reception, or her ability to pull this off. Far more at home in a galley than a gourmet restaurant, it was the same with social situations. She was more at ease in the crew quarters, gathered in the lounge for their weekly movie night, than she was pressed into a crowd of a few hundred in the spacious Sinclair house.
The gown she wore had given her a huge dose of confidence though. It was one of the more amazing pieces Onja had found for her, and she knew she wore it well. A stunning white and silver concoction of sequins, taffeta, and feathers, it hugged her body as it fell to her feet. The gown made her look like an exotic bird.
Her hair was painstakingly styled, complete with a jaunty feather decoration. Airbrushed makeup, perfectly applied during a visit to the salon this afternoon, highlighted her cheekbones and made her eyes huge. Finally, the huge pink sapphire resting on the swell of her bosom didn’t hurt her confidence either.
Her lips quirked as she remembered the battle royale between herself and Sawyer when he had brought home a bag of jewelry for her.
She was okay with clothes, taking them in stride as part of the façade they had been trying to create. However, a bag full of jewelry worth hundreds of thousands of dollars had been too much for her. She had refused to accept the pieces, and he had persisted. They’d almost yelled at each other before calm prevailed.
Eventually, Sawyer had persuaded her to at least look at the jewelry, and afterward, it had gone into a new jewelry box that had appeared on the dresser in the dressing room. The exquisite pieces had stayed there until this evening, Nadia was as determined not to wear them as he was for her to accept his gift.
Despite that, her resolve had weakened in light of the social event looming before them that evening. She had worn the dress, finding it as stunning as it had been before, but realizing it was missing something. The women coming to the gala would be dripping with jewels of all types. She would look out of place if she didn’t wear jewelry.
Clinging to that justification, she had rummaged through the jewelry in the box, having forgotten what most of it looked like, since she had only cursorily examined it the day of their argument. This time, she had paid more attention, finding each piece unique and exquisite, and surprisingly all to her liking.
The pink sapphire had stood out among all the other pieces, and it rested at just the right position to work with the strapless dress. Since her hair was down, she hadn’t bothered with earrings, and her wrists and arms were bare, as was as were her fingers, with the necklace acting as the focal point.
As she circulated among the crowd, pleased to find either Sawyer or one of his family members always nearby in a protective fashion that didn’t feel overbearing, she was surprisingly at ease. In fact, she was having a good time, much to her amazement. The food and champagne were delicious, and the company was far different than she had expected. Most of the people were polite, and some were downright friendly. She had yet to run into anyone who made her feel like she shouldn’t be there, or seemed to have the view she didn’t belong.
As she finished chatting with a group of women discussing the best place to buy shoes in San Francisco, she looked down at the sound of Harold’s scooter approaching.
Turning from the women, she faced him with a smile. “This is some party, Harold.”
He waved a hand. “And you can thank or blame Caitlin for that, depending on your point of view. I suppose Paige had something to do with it too. She was grumbling about Caitlin recruiting her to assist with different details when she was supposed to be getting work done for me.”
“Whoever is responsible, they did a fabulous job.”
The old man’s eyes twinkled as he lifted a hand to waive someone over. “Speaking of fabulous, I have a surprise for you, my dear.”
She turned to face the new arrival and simply forgot how to speak for a moment. Nadia’s mouth dropped open, and she immediately recognized Timothy Wynndt. He was the skipper of the Canadian team that had almost won the Louis Vuitton cup last go-round. Before that, she knew he had been on another crew that had challenged the defenders of the previous America’s Cup World Series. He was also a billionaire in his own right and half-owner of the HuWyn Corporation. “Oh my god.”
He grinned, making him look younger and carefree. He couldn’t be that old anyway, certainly no more than early-forties, but he looked the way she remembered from his last press photo when he grinned at her that way. “Most people call me Timothy, but I can settle for God if you prefer?”
She shook her head, surprised by how tongue-tied she felt. This was worse than having a crush on someone in high school and being terribly shy, as she had been. At least this time it wasn’t a crush, but it was certainly hero worship. “Do you know you are?”
He laughed again, a rich sound that invited participation. “I think I’m Timothy Wynndt, but if I’m wrong please tell me. I’d hate to be using the wrong name for all these years.”
Her cheeks warmed with a blush, and she made a conscious effort to rein in the adolescent urge to giggle. “I’m sorry. That was a stupid question. Of course you know who you are.” She turned to Harold, unable to resist the urge to ask, “Do you know who this is?”
Harold grinned. “I should hope so, since I invited him personally—and so he could meet my charming fut…my grandson’s charming girlfriend.”
She might have asked what he planned to say originally, though she had the sinking feeling he was about to say future granddaughter-in-law. A moment later, the giddiness of being able to interact with a real competitor in the America’s Cup overwhelmed the speculation, and she turned to chat with Timothy.
They soon fell into an easy rhythm, speaking excitedly about sailing. As Nadia conversed with him, she couldn’t help the swell of excitement building inside her. He had the contacts to help her get started, something she could do on her own, but would be far easier if she had an inside person. She could thank Harold a million times over for giving her the opportunity, though she had to make the most of it by impressing him.
They had been speaking quietly in the corner for almost an hour when a hand suddenly fell on her shoulder. She looked up with a frown, surprised to see a heavily scowling Sawyer standing behind her. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” He said the word abruptly, his gaze briefly moving to her before turning back to Timothy. “Nothing’s wrong, but we need to talk.”
She shrugged off his hands. “We can speak later, after the party.”
His scowl deepened, and he glared at her briefly before turning it on Timothy again. “Now, not later.”
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nbsp; The air was thick with tension, and Timothy straightened his shoulders. “It was lovely meeting you, Nadia, but I should mingle with some of the other guests too. Wouldn’t want to be impolite.”
“No, not impolite at all,” said Sawyer with a hint of menace.
Mouth agape, Nadia watched her chance at easier entry into the racing circuit walk away, clearly uncomfortable with the turn of events. Anger surged as she turned back to glare at Sawyer. “Do you know who that was?”
“I don’t care. Come with me.” His hand wrapped around hers, and he pulled her resisting body closer to his. “We need to talk.”
Nadia thought briefly of refusing, but in the end, she followed him quietly from the ballroom where everyone had assembled for the party. It wasn’t an attempt to maintain the couplehood façade, or to be polite and avoid making a scene. She simply wanted the opportunity to express her views about his behavior when they were in private. If that expression turned somewhat loud, bordering on shouting, it would be far better for it to happen somewhere on the other side of the house away from the partygoers.
As soon as they were out of sight of the ballroom, she tried taking her hand from his. “Let go.”
He ignored her, tightening his hold a bit more as he set a rapid pace across the entryway. A moment later, they entered the library, and he thrust her in ahead of him before closing the door with a small slam. The lock sounded sinister when it clicked closed, but she wasn’t frightened. If anything, Sinclair should be frightened of her temper.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Your grandfather went to so much trouble to make it so I could meet him, and you just ruined it all.”
Sawyer leaned against the door, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, am I supposed to feel bad about interrupting a little tête-à-tête? Why the hell is my grandfather trying to fix you up with someone anyway when he thinks you belong to me?”