âKincaid News.â
âNo, you and Kincaid News,â he contradicted, and then his look softened. âIâm offering you a final chance to salvage your dream. Isnât becoming a jewelry designer what youâve always wanted to do?â
She was like Eve being tempted by the apple, Tamara thought. How had he known sheâd always wanted to be a designer? Even though she knew it was part of his persuasive ploy, it was refreshing to have someone at least pretend to take her dream seriously.
âI remember visiting Dunnyhead once,â he mused, naming her fatherâs estate in Scotland. âYou were wearing a bead bracelet that youâd made yourself.â
Tamara was surprised Sawyer remembered. Her father had given her a jewelry-making kit during her stay at Dunnyhead. Sheâd just turned twelve, and it had been one of the few times after her parentsâ divorce her father had seemed aware of her interests and hobbies.
Sheâd strung together translucent green beads from the kit into a fair semblance of a hippie bracelet. Her father, she recalled, hadnât been particularly impressed. Still, sheâd kept her beaded creation for years afterward.
During that stay at Dunnyhead, she recalled sheâd played with her younger sisters, Julia and Arabella, whoâd beenfive and two. But until this moment, she hadnât remembered Sawyerâs visit.
âWho did you want to be when you grew up?â Sawyer probed, his tone inviting. âYou must have had someone you aspired to be like.â
âI wanted to be an original,â she replied, her defenses lowering a notch.
Sawyer gave a low laugh. âOf course. I should have guessed. Tamara Kincaid has always been unique.â
Despite herself, a smile of shared amusement rose to her lips. âAfter the divorce,â she divulged, âmy mother kept some pieces from Bulgari, Cartier and Harry Winston that my father had given her.â
âAnd I bet you loved putting them on,â he guessed.
âMy father wouldnât let me play in the family vault,â she deadpanned.
âIâd let you play with the Melton jewels,â he joked, but his eyes gleamed like polished stones. âHell, you could wear them to your heartâs content.â
âTrying to bribe me?â she said lightly.
âWhatever works.â
Her eyes came to rest beyond Sawyer. She saw her workbench scattered with the implements of a jewelerâs trade.
All of it, however, was in danger of disappearing from her life. And suddenly, inexplicably, what Sawyer offered was so very tempting.
Would it be so bad?
âIt wouldnât be terrible,â he said, as if reading her mind. âA short-term marriage of convenience gets us what we both want, and then we go our separate ways.â
âAs opposed to my fatherâs proposal of a real but bloodless and indefinite dynastic marriage?â
Sawyer inclined his head.
âYouâre proposing that we double-cross my father?â
âI wouldnât put it that way,â Sawyer replied, âbut one rascal deserves another, donât you think?â
The image that his words conjured brought an involuntary smile to her lips. Would it matter to her father what type of marriage she and Sawyer contracted if the bottom line was that he got what he wantedâseeing Kincaid News into capable hands?
And yet. âWeâll never convince my father that we have a real marriage.â
Sawyer arched a brow. âWeâve just proven weâll have no problem convincing people the passion is real.â
She felt a rippling warmth suffuse her.
When had she turned so hot and bothered where Sawyer was concerned? Perhaps when sheâd discovered their kisses had her seeing a kaleidoscope of colors.
Still, she hedged. âYou said this would be a marriage of convenience.â
He gave her a bland look. âAre you asking whether Iâd
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