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She was afraid she was falling for h—
No, she wouldn’t let her mind go there.
L— No, infatuation wasn’t part of the program.
And yet…
Here they were, married. And she had another couple of months at least to try to stay out of Sawyer’s bed while the dust settled on the merger of Kincaid News and Melton Media.
Help. She knew all about how oxytocin flooded a woman’s head during sex, bonding her to her sexual partner. Making her think she was in l—
It could only be more so when the sexual partner was already your husband.
Still, she also knew the pitfalls of someone of her background and disposition marrying someone like Sawyer. Didn’t she?
Tomorrow, Sawyer would expect her to appear on his arm for a reception and dinner at an Upper East Side consulate to honor visiting European royalty. It was to be their New York debut as a couple.
Did she dare make her first public appearance in a role she’d spent her life avoiding—that of the new Countess of Melton?
Eleven
She came down the town house stairs in a draped strapless emerald dress—folds of fabric crisscrossed her bodice before cascading down in a chiffon skirt. She’d paired the dress with—in a nod to her more unconventional side—peep-toe green satin pumps with feathery bow confections over the vamp. She hadn’t had much time to shop for this evening, but fortunately she’d found the perfect dress at the second designer boutique she’d visited.
Sawyer stood at the foot of the stairs, looking every inch the wealthy and powerful aristocrat and media baron.
Frank male appreciation was stamped on his features, and she breathed in deeply to quell the sudden butterflies in her stomach.
Sawyer had knocked on her bedroom door moments before and, when she’d told him she was almost done getting ready, he’d insisted there was something she had to see downstairs.
Stifling a sigh, she’d complied. Her hair had already been done, thanks to the salon she’d visited earlier in the day, and her makeup had been carefully applied. There really hadn’t been much else to do, except dither until the appointed time.
“You look fantastic,” Sawyer said now.
“Thank you,” she responded.
She wet her lips, and his eyes focused on her mouth.
Sexual tension crackled between them.
She told herself she’d dressed the part of a proper countess in order to convince the world that theirs was a real marriage, and not to please Sawyer. But she knew she was playing a dangerous game.
Sawyer slid a velvet case off a nearby console table. “I wasn’t sure how you’d be dressed tonight, but I believe I chose well.”
He held the box in front of her, and she swallowed.
He looked amused. “Don’t be afraid to open it.”
“I thought you’d choose a Pink Teddy creation,” she tried gamely.
“And I thought you’d make another exception for the Melton family jewels,” he teased, opening the box for her.
She caught sight of the jewelry inside, and her mouth opened in silent surprise.
Nestled on an ivory satin surface was a simple but exquisite tiara made of diamonds and emeralds.
She touched the tip of one tiara point. “It’s beautiful.”
“Only as beautiful as the intended wearer.”
She searched his expression.
The corner of Sawyer’s mouth lifted. “After all,” he said with a tinge of humor, “if we’re going to convince the world we’re really married, we might as well play the part to the hilt.”
She felt let down at his words, and broke eye contact before he could read her expression.
Of course, this wasn’t real. She knew that.
The tiara was real, but the countess wasn’t.
She retreated to safe territory. “It reminds me of the Queen Victoria Emerald and Diamond Tiara.”
Sawyer smiled. “You’re familiar with it? One of my nineteenth-century ancestors liked it so much, she commissioned a tiara in a similar style.”
“Well, the Queen Victoria tiara was very famous in its time,” she responded, and then touched one of the points on the tiara resting in Sawyer’s hands. “It’s in what’s known as the Gothic Revival style.”
“If one tiara gets you this excited,” Sawyer teased, “I really should let you play in the family vault.”
The sexual suggestion in his comment, accompanied by the look in his eyes, made her heat. And just like that, the air between them became charged again.
“I’m not excited.”
“I am,” he murmured.
He set the box down and removed the tiara. Carefully, he nestled the jewelry in her hair.
“There,” Sawyer murmured.
He admired his handiwork for a moment before his topaz gaze traveled to meet hers.
He bent and brushed a kiss across her lips.
She felt the tingle down to her toes. “I’ll be right back,” she said, her voice breathless. “I’ll have to go anchor it with pins.”
Somehow she found her way back upstairs, and with shaky legs, sat down in front of her vanity. How was she going to survive tonight?
Was it gauche to be unable to take your eyes off your wife on your first public appearance as a couple?
If so, Sawyer thought self-deprecatingly, he was as unsophisticated as they came.
But he didn’t give a damn. He was impatient to get Tamara home—alone.
Around him, assorted dignitaries and politicians mingled in the reception rooms on the ground floor of the consulate. Later, they’d all ascend to the second floor for a sit-down dinner.
And unfortunately, Tamara seemed to be having a marvelous time and appeared in no hurry to leave. He’d seen her chatting and laughing with two older women whom he knew to be old money pillars of New York society. Then a little while later, he’d seen her fall into conversation with a junior royal as if the two of them had been acquainted for some time.
Already a couple of other guests had stopped to congratulate him on his recent marriage and remark on how charming his wife was and how much they’d enjoyed talking with her and how lucky he was.
He’d have dismissed the remarks as idle cocktail party conversation and meaningless flattery, but he’d witnessed Tamara entertaining one conversation partner after another.
It was August in New York, so a sizable portion of the fashionable crowd had decamped to their summer homes in the Hamptons. The crowd tonight was made up mostly of those from the aristocratic and political spheres, with a strong concentration of foreigners. And despite any apprehensions on her part, Tamara was fitting just fine into his social circle.
