The Skipper & the Billionaire Playboy by Mia Caldwell Read Free Book Online Page B

couldn’t think about that and still hope to maintain any distance between them, especially when his mother and sister were regaling her with tales of his childhood and clearly trying to present him in a better light than he actually projected. Just remembering how it had felt to be in his arms, even briefly, made her too vulnerable.
    “He sounds like he was just as precocious then as he is now,” she said with a grin as his mother wound down the tale of him sneaking out at fifteen, stealing Harold’s Rolls-Royce, and using it to take the gardener’s daughter on a date. There hadn’t been a hint of disapproval about the fact it had been the gardener’s daughter. Their main objections seemed to have been that she was four years older than Sawyer, and that he had stolen the car.
    “He is at times,” said Caitlin with an indulgent smile only a mother could wear.
    Nadia wondered how indulgent his mother would be if she shared some of her tales of Sawyer, the kind of tales full of debauchery and womanizing—the kind of behavior about which no mother needed to hear. An unspoken part of her job was to shield his family from the truth of Sawyer.
    He hadn’t stipulated that in their terms, but she had taken the task upon herself. They didn’t need to know just how wild their golden boy could be. Of course, it benefited her to remember his darker streak whenever she was tempted to succumb to his charms, should temptation arise again, as it had last night.
    “What about you, dear? Were you precocious?”
    Nadia shook her head. “Not at all, ma’am. Caitlin,” she corrected, reminding herself for the tenth time his mother had invited her to use her first name. “I hear I was always shy and cautious, certainly reserved. According to my papa, the only time I really came alive was on the sea. It’s in my blood.”
    “You and Sawyer definitely have that in common,” said Kiersten. “He and Dad used to go sailing in the Bay every weekend. Dad had one of those wooden sailboats, and you know how much upkeep they require?” At Nadia’s nod, she added, “Sawyer worked side-by-side with our dad, keeping the boat shipshape and ready for sailing into the next adventure.”
    It was difficult to imagine Sawyer working hard at anything without complaint, besides bedding his latest conquest. She held back that criticism, somehow able to envision that side of Sawyer, at least a younger version of him. It intrigued her that he had been a devoted sailor with his father, just as she had with hers. Could it be they had something in common?
    Briefly, she wondered what had happened to Mr. Sinclair, but the hint of sadness in Kiersten and Caitlin’s expressions kept her from asking. In the three years she had known Sawyer—admittedly she didn’t know him that well, having mostly avoided him with the exception of the last few days—he had never spoken of his father. It was clearly a sensitive subject, and she swallowed her question.
    As they moved from massages to mud baths, she put on a cooling mask and leaned back in the thin mud, surprised at how soothing it was. It didn’t feel at all like mud, but rather like cooling gel encompassing her from neck to toe. “This stuff is amazing,” she said with a small sigh.
    From her left, she heard Caitlin give a similar sigh and murmur in agreement.
    Kiersten was on her right, and she didn’t reply, clearly too lost in relaxation. Nadia realized with a start that she could get used to this. Oh, not coming to a spa every day, and certainly not living all of her life on land in the city, but it would be nice to have female friends, or family, with whom to do these things.
    Her own mother had died when she was a little girl, and there had been no siblings. Her parents had met in foster care, both orphans, so it was just the two of them after Carla had died. Now, it was just her. An ache of loneliness shot through her, making her wish this was all real instead of a charade.
    Nadia bunched her