The Skipper & the Billionaire Playboy

Onja linked her arm through Nadia’s to bring her to a rack of exquisite clothing. “He broke my heart,” she said carelessly, as though it no longer mattered. “Of course, I was foolish enough to let him. I am surprised to see him back again, and with his…girlfriend?” she asked delicately.

Nadia almost denied that, but realized she had to maintain the role starting now. If word reached his family in San Francisco that it was all a sham, the deal would be off, and while she had a nice deposit from Sawyer sitting in her bank account, she still needed the other half to be able to pursue her dream independently without having to work as a skipper for someone else in the interim.

Finally, with a small hesitation, she nodded. “I guess you could say that. We’re figuring us out.” That sounded ambiguous enough without revealing too much or forcing her to lie, at least not in vivid detail.

“I sincerely wish you better luck than me or the rest of us, Nadia.” Onja seemed genuine in her sentiment, and not as though she was simply putting on a façade to satisfy a wealthy customer.

That was the last they spoke of it, and soon enough she was immersed in trying on the kind of clothes she had never dreamed of owning. Somehow, Onja seemed to coax out her own style and love of casualness and little fuss, but still made her look like a million dollars. The clothes were exactly what she would have picked if she’d previously found herself in the position of needing such a wardrobe. Before she knew it, three hours had passed before Onja decided she had enough for a week with the Sinclairs.

When she emerged from the back room, Nadia was half-surprised to find Sawyer still sitting in the same chair, his phone absorbing his attention. She’d almost expected to find him in flagrante delicto with the receptionist. Judging from the cold look Bridget sent her, it appeared either Sawyer had ignored her, or perhaps even more unlikely had shut her down.

That was a surprising turn of events, but she supposed he was embracing his current role as well. He was no more eager for his family to discover they weren’t really involved than she was, though for different reasons, of course.

He stood up, freezing as he took in the sight of her. She had changed from her simple slacks and short-sleeve shirt into a slightly dressier floral pantsuit that nipped in at the waist, but fluttered around her in a flatteringly feminine fashion. New white sandals also adorned her feet, and she was thankful she had taken time to polish her toenails this morning.

“You look fantastic, Nadia.”

She couldn’t keep a small, genuine smile from blossoming on her face. Sawyer looked sincere and didn’t seem to be condescending or lecherous. He just seemed to simply admire the outfit she wore, or how she wore it. “Thank you, sir…Sawyer.” She hastily altered her words at the last moment, thankful neither Onja nor Bridget seemed to notice her lapse. She wondered what they would have made of it if she had accidentally called him sir?

Would they have realized there was no relationship between them, or perhaps assumed it was some kind of kinky thing like in “Fifty Shades of Grey?” She barely bit back a giggle at the thought. She wasn’t submissive, and he didn’t seem like the bondage type—not that it mattered to her. She had no interest in finding out anything too personal about him, including whether he preferred candles and champagne or whips and handcuffs.

After he passed over his black AmEx card, he took her arm in his and suggested they find somewhere to have lunch while the staff packed her purchases, and the driver stowed them in the limousine. She nodded her agreement, traded a parting with Onja, and walked with him out of the boutique.

There were a few restaurant options nearby, and she was surprised when he chose a simple Mexican cantina across the parking lot. It couldn’t have been anything he was used to eating, she assumed, and certainly not Michelin-starred fine dining.

She couldn’t deny he seemed at ease when they entered the plain restaurant though. It was the kind of place she used to eat at routinely, before she started living aboard the Quixote as the skipper.

The ambience was kitschy, with sombreros on the wall and paintings of Mexico above each table. Their server brought chips and salsa and plastic-covered menus that had seen better days. She watched, waiting for him to make some sort of disparaging comment, but all he said was, “Looks delicious.”

Deciding he was either more flexible than she had imagined, or perhaps more well-versed in various types of establishments, she turned her attention to the menu. They didn’t sp

eak again until their server had taken their orders and left with the menus.

Before she could stop herself, she asked with the small grin, “How’s your face?”

He touched the spot where Onja had slapped him, looking as that was an unconscious gesture. “It still stings a little.” He sounded surprised. “I wasn’t kidding when I complimented her right hook, even if it was with her left hand.”

Nadia couldn’t help a small laugh. She really shouldn’t enjoy seeing him get his comeuppance like that, because slapping another person was truly unacceptable, but a tiny part of her had enjoyed the show. It took a measure of self-control not to continue teasing him about it, or to probe for details.

Onja’s explanation had been vague, and she was surprisingly curious about his past relationship with the other woman. Not that she really needed any details. She’d seen enough of him over the past three years to have an idea of what he had done to Onja. Likely, he’d swept her off her feet, made her feel things intensely, and then sailed away when he got bored.

She was thankful not to be susceptible to his charms, or to be at risk of being left behind when he sailed away. Her lips curved slightly into a smile. Technically, she would be the one sailing away at the end of this week, the new owner of a catamaran, and he would be sailing off on the Quixote with a new captain.

That thought made her frown slightly. “Have you found a replacement for my position yet, Mr. Sin…Sawyer?” She was going to have to practice saying his name, or she was bound to screw up in front of his family.

He lifted a careless shoulder. “I contacted the service. They’ll screen and hire someone for me before I leave San Francisco again. I’ll have a cursory interview before we leave port, but they didn’t steer me wrong last time, so I’m sure they’ll find a suitable skipper.”

To her surprise, a pang of regret shot through her. No, it was more possessiveness. She had been the Quixote’s first captain, and while she had never owned the ship, a niggle of territorialism swept through her.

That didn’t mean she was willing to give up her own dreams to return as the skipper, and it was a passing flash of upset. As soon as their margaritas arrived, she was able to push it aside and focus on the delicious alcohol, having missed a perfect margarita. One of the stewards acted as bartender aboard the superyacht, but he always put too much tequila in his margaritas, where she preferred a stronger hint of lime. This one was just perfect.

They chatted over lunch, both making an effort to get better acquainted and seem at ease as a couple. For dessert, she was briefly resistant when he took her hand in a casual hold.

Holding her hand in his, he stretched out her fingers gently, loosening her fist and preventing her from pulling away. “We’re going to have to touch sometimes this next week. You might as will get used to it now.”

She wanted to argue, but remembered her current bank balance. She still worked for him, and he had a point. It was better to work out the kinks now, rather than in front of his family. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

After they had finished their meal, she didn’t pull away when he took her hand again as they walked from the restaurant and across the parking lot. Having his fingers twined through hers, warm skin pressed together, made her hand tingle and her stomach jolt slightly. She didn’t want to label the reaction, so she shoved it aside and focused on getting back to the boat so they could sail on to San Francisco.