“How many women have you given jewelry?” she continues.
I don’t want to think about any other women right now, but I answer her truthfully. “A few.”
She pulls in a sharp breath. “Well, this makes me feel like one of your women, and I don’t want to feel like I’m being given expensive gifts for spending time with you.”
The thought of her as one of my women is amusing, not only because I don’t have a harem of women like the words suggest, but also because being with her makes even the thought of other women impossible. “Even if I had any women, I’d never consider you as one of them.” I clasp the choker around her neck, and she doesn’t resist. “Consider it a loan then, just for tonight. It looks wonderful on you.”
Inside the venue, I politely navigate through clusters of people eager to talk to me. Rachel is stunning, and her appreciation of her surroundings translates into a beautiful glow that makes it almost impossible to take my eyes off her.
I’m glad she’s enjoying herself, but selfishly, I’d much rather be alone with her.
For the short time I have left.
My depressing thoughts take a turn toward annoyance when I see Evans Sinclair approaching me.
I haven’t spoken to Ava in a while, haven’t thought about her brother either, but I don’t need to look twice to see he’s drunk already and spoiling for a fight.
“I suppose now you have more reason to be in San Francisco,” he sneers at me, and then his eyes rake over Rachel with lewd sexual interest that makes me want to break his jaw. “Something else you’ve bought, I presume.”
I put a dam on my anger. He’s not worth it. “You need to learn to control your tongue if you don’t want to get your nose broken,” I warn. “You’ve already lost too much to risk losing that pretty face of yours too, haven’t you, Sinclair?”
He runs away like the coward he is.
“Well, that’s one person who doesn’t like you,” Rachel quips, uncowed by his petulance.
I snort. “He happens to be one person whose good opinion I can do without.”
“Hey, Red.” Cameron is with Jules, his wife, who is visibly pregnant and glowing. “Don’t tell me you’re still hanging out with this one,” he teases Rachel.
Her lips curve. “I hate to disappoint you, but I am indeed.”
“More’s the pity,” he declares with fake sorrow.
I want to elbow him. “Shut up and stop badmouthing me.” I hug him before kissing Jules on both cheeks. “Hey, Jules. How are you?”
“Knocked up.” She grins and turns to Rachel. “I’m Jules McDaniel, Cameron’s wife.”
“Rachel Foster. I’m here with Landon.”
Jules takes Rachel’s hand. “Where’s our table?” she asks, turning an arched eyebrow to me and Cameron. “Or are you two planning to keep a pregnant woman standing all night?”
We find the table, though my mind is on Rachel’s words. I’m here with Landon. They are so lacking in anything real. So empty of a connection. So bland.
You only have one more day, I remind myself, and then you’ll have even less of a connection.
At the empty table, we are joined by Nelson Bledsoe, the cosmetics billionaire, and a young girl I don’t recognize, though she’s staring at me like I should know who she is.
“I’m sure you don’t remember my daughter, Davina,”
Nelson tells me. “You only met her once.”
I vaguely remember a serious little girl in black shaking my hand at my father’s funeral. I pull my memories back from that dark place and give the girl a friendly smile.
“At my father’s funeral ten years ago,” I tell her. “You’ve changed.”
She blushes. “So have you.”
“Davina served on the board for the gala this year,” Nelson says, glowing with pride. “She’s now a swan in her own right.”