The Skipper & the Billionaire Playboy

They arrived within ten minutes of when she had projected the next afternoon, docking at the marina where the yacht would receive maintenance. Her belongings were packed neatly in the new set of luggage they had acquired yesterday in San Diego, including everything she owned. She wouldn’t be coming back to the yacht, and she parted ways with her crew with a hint of sadness.

None of them knew she wouldn’t be returning, and they had no inkling of the pretense she and Sawyer were constructing. She hated not being able to give a more formal goodbye, but she would send emails to everyone on the staff after the week was over, and they knew she was gone for good.

It was a cold way to say goodbye to people with whom she had spent the last three years, but she had no other choice in the matter. Everyone on the ship would find it highly unlikely to learn she and Sawyer were supposedly a couple, and any of them could have blown the charade. It made sense to be discreet, even if it meant leaving a sense of ill will toward her because of her quick, brusque, and brief parting.

The customary limousine was waiting, slightly different from yesterday’s, but basically the same. Today, she passed on the glass of champagne he offered, needing her head clear and her nerves calm as she prepared herself to face the enemy. That was a melodramatic word, but she certainly wasn’t expecting a warm welcome. No, she was bracing herself for icy politeness and barely veiled intolerance.

Once settled, with the window down to enjoy the fresh breeze, she watched the passing scenery as the limousine climbed ever higher up the hills of San Francisco. After a life spent on the water, and on a ship, the car felt too confining, so the view and the air were welcome distractions.

After what seemed like at least an hour, they left behind the main part of the city and climbed higher into the hills. She didn’t know exactly where he lived, but it obviously had to be somewhere around here. They were entering a section of luxurious homes behind fancy gates or huge brick walls that protected the owners’ privacy.

From what she observed, this was clearly an affluent area. As the limousine drove upward, they passed a succession of expensive cars going down the hill, everything from a Rolls-Royce to a Lamborghini. Even the plainer cars were still expensive models, like Volvos or Audis.

The limousine finally pulled up to a huge gate, which opened on its own—either via remote from the driver, or perhaps from live security guards viewing them on the cameras—and the car wound upward over a cobblestone driveway that seemed to stretch forever before it drew to a halt in front of a sprawling estate.

It was white, and she didn’t know the architectural style, but it must have cost an obscene amount of money. It was a beautiful home and about the only place that could ever entice her to even entertain the idea of living on land. Not that she would or wanted to, but she could see the appeal in a place like this.

The driver opened the back door, and Sawyer stepped out. He held out a hand to her, and she stared at it for half a second, almost overwhelmed by her own nerves. She wanted to tell him to close the door and send her back to San Francisco, but she couldn’t do that.

She’d been pursuing her dreams for too long, determined to win where her father hadn’t been able to, to give up so easily. With a deep breath, she scooted across the seat and took his hand. A moment later, she stepped out of the elegant car and onto the gray-white cobblestone path leading to the door. The marble steps gleamed in the afternoon sunshine, and the whole house looked like a pristine new beginning.

She was being fanciful, but in a way it was true. After she got through this week, it would start her whole new beginning. To her surprise almost as much as his, she took his hand as they began climbing the stairs, squeezing it gently. Nadia wasn’t sure if she was receiving reassurance from him, offering her own, or simply trying to reinforce the pretense of their relationship.

She was surprised when the door opened before they had even reached the landing. It wasn’t a maid or butler manning the door either. Instead, a middle-aged woman came running out with an excited squeal. Not far behind her was a younger woman who looked a great deal like Sawyer, and bringing up the rear, an old man in a scooter rolled behind them. She hadn’t expected that. Shouldn’t there have been an army of servants between them and the family?

Seconds later, the woman she assumed to be his mother was beside them. She swept Sawyer into a fierce hug and uttered his name as she kissed his cheek. She hadn’t expected wealthy people to be so exuberant, or to disdain typical etiquette for their class. Of course, she had never actually mingled with their class, so maybe she had made some assumptions of her own that were pretty dumb. Maybe not all wealthy white people were pretentious snobs who stood behind emotional barriers.

Apparently not, she discovered a moment later when his mother’s attention switched to her. She held out her hand, but it was disregarded as his mother sucked her into a hug. Nadia’s eyes widened, but she somehow managed to make her brain work enough to hug the other woman limply. She wasn’t a hugger, but clearly his mother was. Finally, the smaller woman let go, and she was able to step back slightly.

Only she ended up stepping right into the proximity of his sister, and another set of arms enfolded her. Nadia gritted her teeth and hugged his sister as well, wondering why people felt the need to put their arms around strangers. Finally, his sister released her too, and she turned to the old man.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem like the hugging type. He was more reserved and nodded to her, and she preferred that reaction. He eyed her for a moment, and his gaze was shrewd. A second later, he looked at his grandson, saying, “It looks like you finally found someone worth bringing home, Sawyer.”

Nadia was rendered speechless. It was amazing, but she could feel the acceptance from each of the three people that had emerged from the home. Where she had expected to meet resistance and veiled disapproval, instead she was greeted with hospitality and welcome.

She followed the family into the house, her hand wrapped tightly in Sawyer’s, but only because he had taken it again. Nadia mused about it and decided she would have preferred the other reaction instead. It would have been a lot easier to fool people who didn’t like her, not just because they wouldn’t have interacted as much with her, but because it wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable or dishonest.

Following Sawyer into the home, which was as marvelous on the outside as the inside, she felt her first twinge of guilt. They were deceiving people who cared about Sawyer, and it suddenly felt wrong. Even bringing to mind the catamaran she had plans to buy at the end of the week couldn’t completely banish that twinge of c

onscience as the women chattered at her and Sawyer, while the grandfather gave them a brusque parting, along with the explanation of, “Work to do. Always work to do.”

She learned his mother was Caitlin, and his sister was Kiersten. The two women led them up the stairs to the third floor, accompanying them to a room. Caitlin opened the door for this flourish. “It’s all aired out and just like you left it last time, Sawyer.”

There was a hint of reproof in her tone. “I did consider refreshing the paint and changing the bedding, as it’s been almost two years since you’ve used it, but Kiersten persuaded me to wait.” Caitlin’s eyes turned to Nadia. “My daughter thought you might want to have some input on redecorating too.”

Nadia’s eyes widened, and she had no response. She gave Sawyer a helpless look, and he just shrugged, though there was a hint of a groan in his voice when he said, “We’re only here for the week.”

“For now,” said Kiersten, looking enigmatic, but the trace of excitement in her voice betrayed her. Clearly, she and her mother hoped Sawyer was coming home for a longer visit, and apparently, they didn’t mind if Nadia stuck around as well. It would have been heartwarming if she’d actually been involved with her employer.

As soon as she looked around the suite, she realized they had made another assumption too, and that was she was sharing a bed with Sawyer. It was a king-size, but there was no trace of another bed anywhere. “Which room will be mine?” she asked.

Kiersten laughed. “Please, Nadia, we’re all adults here. No one’s going to make you sleep in a separate room and sneak down the hall or anything.”

Caitlin nodded. “Of course not, dear. We want you to feel at home here, just like you do on the ship.”

“It’s actually a boat, Mrs. Sinclair. A ship is a different kind of vessel entirely.”

Caitlin laughed, but there wasn’t any mockery. “I can see why he likes you. You’ll have to tell me all about the difference sometime soon, but first you must call me Caitlin. Mrs. Sinclair is so stuffy and informal, and you’re practically family.”