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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?”
