Maybe she’d been too strict, to counteract Aaron’s lackadaisical attitude. He’d been the fun parent while she was the wet blanket. But she didn’t want her boys to grow up to be spoiled rotten rich kids with no self-control and no purpose in life beyond spending mom and dad’s money.
When they first split, she’d been too quick to blame Aaron for their troubles. She’d been angry and that anger had simmered for years. It still hadn’t abated completely. Though the fire no longer flickered, the coals still glowed red. But now she was just as angry at herself. Because she’d been as much at fault for the demise of their marriage as Aaron was. Only pride kept her from admitting it.
Not that he would care, anyway. He’d gone on with his life just fine. She was the one who couldn’t seem to move forward. Oh, she was busy enough, serving on the board of My Sister’s House. And she’d enjoyed some male companionship over the years, once even getting close to remarriage. But that had blown up in her face.
Because you still have feelings for Aaron?
Why wouldn’t I have feelings? She asked herself. After all, he was my first love. My first real love. Silly teenage crushes didn’t count.
You never really get over your first love.
She thought back to the night they first met. It was at a gala fundraiser for My Sister’s House. The non-profit provided services to victims of domestic violence, including counseling and providing shelter for women and children trying to escape abuse. Claudia had only been working there a short time and was still trying to prove herself to the higher-ups. She believed in the work the foundation was doing and was eager to put in the work and hours to show her dedication.
The purpose of the gala was to raise money for the upkeep and expansion of the foundation’s shelter. The evening consisted of dinner, dancing, speeches and a silent auction. All the employees, from the Board members and Executives to worker bees like herself were in attendance. Three members of the Sinclair family were present and treated as honored guests due to the large donations they’d made in the past—Robert, the patriarch and founder of Sinclair Ltd., and his son and daughter-in-law William and Elaine.
Claudia remembered the fourth Sinclair arriving later, after he crashed the party…
She recognized him right away. Aaron Sinclair, whose handsome face and killer smile graced the front page of many a tabloid, including the National Weekly Scoop. Not that she ever bought the rags, but she couldn’t help seeing them in the supermarket checkout line. All right, occasionally she’d pick one up and leaf through it if the line was especially long, but she never spent good money on one.
Why was he here? The gossip columns painted him as a thrill seeker, adventuring all over to escape the boredom of having too much money. Poor little rich boy. When he wasn’t parasailing, deep sea diving or sky diving, he was romancing some Hollywood starlet or internet influencer. Scandal trailed him like a homeless mutt. Why would he want to show up at a boring fundraiser for people he couldn’t be bothered caring about?
Unless he wanted to make a scene. It was common knowledge that he was estranged from his family, if not actually disinherited. The tabloids speculated that his antics were intended to embarrass his conservative family, who reacted to his exploits with chilly silence and the occasional “no comment.”
Claudia glanced around the ballroom, but apparently no one else had spotted him. Then again, he’d entered from the kitchen instead of the room’s main entrance. He must have bribed or sweet-talked the kitchen staff and servers to let him in. He definitely was not on the list of invitees.
Though she and the other employees had been encouraged to enjoy the gala, she couldn’t forget how important tonight was not just to the organization, but to the women and children it served. She couldn’t let some spoiled rich guy tank the evening for his own twisted reasons.
Before she could think twice, she slipped over to him and placed her hand on his sleeve. “Mr. Sinclair—”
Her voice broke off as he turned her way on wobbly legs. Whatever she’d meant to say completely vanished from her mind as she got a closer look. The paparazzi’s photos didn’t do him justice. Nature had arranged his tousled sandy-colored hair, wide forehead, straight nose, and square chin in a combination guaranteed to quicken the heart of any woman with a pulse. His face would rival that of any screen star’s. His lips were firm but so beautifully shaped that Claudia couldn’t help but imagine pressing her own against them. Her lips tingled, as though they could already feel his kiss.
A flash of heat blazed through her, drying up all the moisture in her mouth. His eyes were grayish-blue, like the color of the sky on a rainy day. When he fixed them on her, the words on her tongue turned to dust.
Giving her a vague, mildly curious look, he smiled. “Do we know each other?”
He teetered toward her and she put her hand on his arm to keep him from falling on top of her. “Uh, no. No, sir. But I know who you are.” She glanced around nervously, hoping no one had spotted them. “Should you really be here tonight?”
His glazed eyes took her in from head to toe and her face heated. Even drunk, he could clearly tell her dress had no designer label. A pink satin number, she’d found it second-hand in a consignment shop.
He, on the other hand, shone in black-tie attire that must have cost thousands. Bespoke, certainly, because it fit him perfectly—though the effect was somewhat spoiled by his askew bow tie and the inebriated smirk on his lips.
He turned the question around on her. “What makes you think I don’t belong here?”
“Because I handled the invitations,” she answered, anger sparking. Did this man think he owned the world? “And your name wasn’t on the list.”
“Oh. Well, let’s keep it to ourshelves, shall we?” Leaning in, he raised a finger to his lips. “Sshh.”
But instead of receiving a face full of boozy breath, Claudia detected only a minty whiff of mouthwash. A tingling awareness dawned. “You’re not drunk at all, are you?”
He blinked as though taken aback. “What?”
“The wobbling and the slurring…it’s a good act, but a little overdone. I’ll bet you haven’t had anything to drink at all tonight.” Yet for some reason he wanted to make everyone think he was loaded. Why the act?
In an instant, his demeanor changed. He stood clear-eyed and erect. “Well done,” he told her as he straightened his tie. “You’re a very perceptive woman, Ms. uh… you have an advantage over me. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”
She swallowed hard. In spite of him trying to play her, the man had some powerful charm. It was tough holding on to her righteous anger. She wanted to kick herself for being so easily swayed by his movie star looks. “It’s Claudia Nichols.”
“Claudia. Pretty name. Well, Ms. Nichols, you caught me out.” From the looks of it, he wasn’t the least bit ashamed. “You’re right, I haven’t been drinking. And I’ve crashed the party. So you have a problem, don’t you? What are you going to do?” He lowered his voice to a whisper as a teasing light played in his eyes. “Are you going to call hotel security? Have me tossed out on my…ear?”
“No.” For some reason she thought he’d like that. “That would only cause a scene.”
His eyes narrowed. “And we mustn’t have a scene, must we?”
“No,” she answered. “Tonight is too important.”
He tossed a contemptuous glance at his parents and grandfather mingling among the guests. They still didn’t see him or were pretending not to. “Or do you mean they’re too important? Doesn’t it bother you, having to kiss their feet for them to dole out their pocket change?”
Jalapeno-hot fury shot through her. What was this guy’s problem? Did Mommy and Daddy cut his allowance or something? Was he so selfish and clueless that he’d pull a public tantrum just to get back at them, stealing the spotlight from those who really needed it?
Not on her watch. She and her co-workers had sweated for months preparing for this event and she wasn’t abou
t to let this pouty little Richie Rich ruin it. “I’m talking about all the people this organization helps. You want to make this night about you, but it’s not about you and whatever little grudge you’ve got going. It’s about the women and children who need us. They’re running for their lives. Some of them come to us with nothing but the clothes on their backs. Can you even understand that? What it feels like to be scared and helpless and have no one but strangers to turn to?”
His face paled and he blinked. “No,” he said after a moment’s pause. “But it sounds like you do.”
His voice was different now. There was no teasing lilt, no vaguely condescending undertone. The change rattled her, but she stared him down.
“I see them every day when they come through our doors. One thing I know—if kissing feet means a new wing on My Sister’s House, then I’m ready to pucker up, baby. It may be just pocket change to people like you, but it means we can help hundreds more.”
“People like me.” His smile was back, but now it was remorseful. “You don’t think much of me, do you?”
“Not if you’re here to cause trouble.” Her anger subsided, lulled by his seeming humility. But was it sincere or just an act?
“To be honest, that was my intention. I planned to stagger up to the dais during my grandfather’s speech and make a drunken fool of myself. Embarrass him and my parents thoroughly.”
She shook her head in utter confusion. He wasn’t even drunk. The stumbling and slurring had all been an act. “But why?”
He gave a little shrug. “It’s what I do.”
Just for fun? She didn’t buy that. There had to be a bigger reason. She wasn’t fooled by his blasé, careless attitude.
“However,” he added, “You’ve changed my mind. I won’t ruin the party, Claudia…”
For the first time in his company, she took a deep breath. Her tense shoulders relaxed.
“If you’ll dance with me,” he finished.
Her back and neck stiffened instantly at the implied threat. She should have known better than to let her guard down. “And if I don’t?”
He opened his mouth as though to answer, then shook his head. “Nothing. You’re right. Tonight’s about the people who need your help. Nothing should detract from them.”
Claudia was silent, unsure how to respond. She didn’t like him playing with her, dangling a promise of good behavior in one breath, and withdrawing it in the next.
“I’ll leave and not make a scene, I swear,” he told her. “But before I do, would you please have one dance with me?”
He gazed at her humbly, hopefully, as though worried she might refuse. Could she believe him or was this another act, like the drunk routine? Her brain warned her to take care but her heart—or maybe her hormones—told her to go for it.
Giving him one little dance wouldn’t hurt, if it meant he’d keep his promise and leave directly. She’d be doing the organization a solid. Oh, who was she kidding? When Aaron Sinclair fixed his gaze on her, all she could do was imagine him holding her. He. Was. Gorgeous.
She might regret this but missing the chance to be in his arms was something she’d regret even more. Glancing at the dance floor, she saw a few couples shuffling to the orchestra’s tune while most of the guests sat at their tables or circulated.
“We’ll be too obvious over there,” she answered. “There’s no way you won’t be recognized.”
“I have an idea.” He took her hand. “Come with me.”
She hesitated at first but allowed him to lead her across the room. He cut through the crowd confidently, as though he had every right to be there. No one gave him a second look. Together they walked out through the open French doors to the wide balcony which looked down on the bright lights of the city below. There were others out for a breath of air, but Aaron soon found a darkened corner where they could be alone.
“How did you do that?” She was breathless, her heart thumping. “I was sure someone would say something. Question you.”
He grinned. “You were the only one brave enough to do that. I’ve had lots of practice showing up where I’m not welcome. If you act like you belong and dare anyone to side-eye you, no one will call you out. At least, if you’re rich.”
If you’re rich. Ah yes. Everything worked differently if you had money and lots of it. But she could ponder society’s inequities another time, because now she had more urgent matters to deal with.
Aaron Sinclair faced her, placing her hand on his shoulder and slipping his arm around her waist. “Now…about that dance?”
They swayed together as the orchestra played an old song whose tune she recognized though she didn’t know its name. Her feet seemed to move on their own, knowing the steps without her guiding them, as she nestled against Aaron’s broad chest. Claudia became lost in the moment as she inhaled the subtle scent of his aftershave and felt his breath riffle her hair. For the length of the song, their little corner of the balcony became her whole world.
The music ended all too soon. She stayed in his arms a few moments longer, only reluctantly pulling away. Was he just as reluctant to let her go, or was it only her imagination?
“Thank you.” His features were hidden in the dimly lit spot, but his voice held a tinge of sadness. “Claudia. That’s a beautiful name.”
Don’t go, she wanted to say. But that made no sense. Hadn’t she been trying to get him to leave? “Good-bye.”
“Not good-bye,” he answered. “Just good night. We’ll see each other again. In the meantime…”
He took the boutonniere from his jacket and placed it in her hand. A white orchid. “Take this. I wish it were a bouquet. Don’t forget me.”
As if that were possible. But she wouldn’t count on seeing him again. That was just one of the empty promises men made to women to keep them happy, along with “I’ll call you” and “We’ll keep in touch.”
“I’ll leave now,” he said. “Don’t worry. They’ll never know I was here.”
Then he was gone. She might have conjured him except for the white orchid in her hand. She felt as though she’d landed in a fairy tale, except it was the prince who vanished, leaving behind a boutonniere instead of a glass slipper.
She’d treasure the orchid, but she would treasure the memory of this night far longer.
Chapter 4
Aaron stood in the elevator, bristling with anger and even some hurt. As soon as he’d tried to tell Claudia about Summer, she had once again cut him off. If that was how she wanted it, fine. He certainly wouldn’t beg her to hear him out.
Though he couldn’t deny he’d made a lot of mistakes during their marriage, he’d never been a skirt-chaser. Never so much as looked at another woman. Why would he, when he had Claudia? He’d loved her, probably from the very first night they met…
Though he’d shown up at the fundraiser intending to embarrass his family with his drunk act, Claudia’s words shamed him:
“You want to make this night about you, but it’s not about you and whatever little grudge you’ve got going. It’s about the women and children who need us. They’re running for their lives. Some of them come to us with nothing but the clothes on their backs. Can you even understand that?”
She was right. He couldn’t hijack this event and make himself the center of attention. He thought he’d be getting back at those who’d hurt him, but in truth he’d only be hurting innocent people. And making a jackass of himself.
That last part usually didn’t bother him. Ever since his family had painted him a “troublemaker” and shipped him off to that prep school to get him out of the way, he’d lost all respect for them. For all their fine talk, they were nothing but liars, hypocrites and cowards. And he was happy to make a fool of himself if it meant humiliating them as well.
Claudia set him straight. He’d never thought about it her way before. Had never wanted to. He’d been too intent on getting revenge.
But now revenge only looked small and petty. Self-centered he might be, but he
did have a conscience. And it wouldn’t let him ruin this event for his own measly satisfaction.
He had a more pressing need now—to spend a little more time with the woman before him. At first, she’d amused him, then intrigued him. She’d been alert enough to notice him and shrewd enough to assume he was up to no good. She also had the guts to confront him, calling him out on his bad intent. Though her gown was clearly off the rack and several seasons out of style, it suited her. Its pink color made her stand out like a lovely rose among the other women present, whose designer wear was mostly black.
Her face wasn’t perfect enough to be deemed beautiful by fashion model standards, but her hazel eyes shone with intelligence, her dark eyebrows winged elegantly above them, and the slight cleft in her chin hinted at an intriguing stubbornness of character. A wavy brunette bob framed her face attractively, but it hadn’t cost her hundreds in a fancy salon. She wore only a touch of make-up—rosy lipstick and a bit of eyeshadow—but she didn’t need more than a touch.
Her inexpensive gown, simple hair style and lack of jewelry, except for the plain gold studs in her ears, told him that she wasn’t into materialism. Her values lay elsewhere. She cared more about helping others than what brand name was on her dress, purse or shoes. So different from the other women in his circle.
He heard himself say “I won’t ruin the party, Claudia…if you’ll dance with me.” Fate had brought them together and he couldn’t leave without holding her in his arms.
The angry glint in her eye and her rigid posture told him he’d stepped wrong. “And if I don’t?”
“Nothing,” he swore. He didn’t want her feeling threatened or thinking he’d act up if she refused. This woman had spirit and courage. He wanted her respect. No, more than that. He wanted her trust.
The Billionaire's Big Risk Page 3
