she loved with all her heart had never loved her enough to want to do right by her.
Natalie had asked her mother once why she’d never gone back to her own family and it was in that brief moment that she had seen the embarrassment and the regret that had eventually hardened Norris-Jean’s spirit, the wealth of it spinning in the woman’s eyes. Their mother had preferred to suffer in silence than admit her mistakes and seek help from people who might have been willing to lend them a hand. Pride had been Norris-Jean’s one shortcoming and her children had suffered for it. But for everything the woman hadn’t been able to provide she’d given them love tenfold, its abundance overflowing.
Days earlier Norris-Jean had slipped quietly away in her sleep, leaving her five children to mourn the loss. Natalie had last spoken to her mother right before Paris fashion week, her requisite call to check that the matriarch had received the check Natalie had been sending every month since the day she’d left home. In the beginning, some months had been much harder than others. Most recently Natalie had been grateful for the steady income that allowed her to share her wealth so readily.
A man’s deep baritone voice suddenly broke through the meditation Natalie had fallen into. “Those are not good airport shoes. Especially not in this weather!”
Natalie lifted her eyes to stare at the man who was speaking to her. He was tall, lean and well dressed in a charcoal-gray silk suit, white dress shirt and burgundy red necktie. His shoes were expensive Italian leather, highly polished to a spit shine. He bent down and picked up her high heels, eyeing them too closely. She met the look he was giving her, one eyebrow raised curiously.
“You must have worn these right off the runway,” the handsome stranger crooned.
Her gaze trailed from the top of his head down to the floor beneath his large feet. His complexion was the color of Riesen’s chocolate-caramel candy, his eyes a deep, dark brown and he had full, luscious lips that pouted ever so slightly. His hair was cropped closely, a precision fade that complemented the thick texture of his tight curls. He suddenly smiled, his mouth widening into a deep grin that showcased the prettiest set of bright white teeth and accentuated the hint of a goatee across his chin.
“Excuse me?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously as he waved her shoes in his hands.
“These are from Jimmy Choo’s new fall collection. They haven’t even hit the stores yet!” He sat them upright by her side.
Her gaze narrowed. “You know shoes?”
He laughed. “It’s what I do,” he said as he extended a hand in her direction. “I’m Tinjin Braddy. Do you mind if I join you?”
Natalie stared. He had the hands of a piano player, large appendages with elongated fingers. She raised her eyes back to his, not bothering to lift her own hands from her lap.
Tinjin chuckled warmly. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, not at all offended by her chilly reception. He settled himself down into the seat beside her.
“Tinjin. What kind of name is that?” she asked, shifting her body ever so slightly.
He smiled again. “It’s very country, is what it is. I’m told it’s an old family moniker. I was named after my father, who was named after his father, who was named after his father.”
“So does that make you Tinjin the third or the fourth?”
“The sixth, actually. I come from a long line of men named Tinjin and I fully intend to pass it down to a son of my own someday. There’s a lot of history in this name.”
“Huh,” Natalie grunted. “I’m sure that will make your father proud.”
Tinjin shrugged. “I really wouldn’t know. My father left shortly after my baby sister was born. We never knew him. My mother disappeared soon after that. I was raised by my grandmother.” Tinjin was suddenly surprised that he’d shared so much information so quickly. He met the look she was giving him.
Natalie felt herself staring as she reflected on his comment. She suddenly realized he was staring back and a wave of heat flushed her face with color. She took a deep breath. “My name’s Natalie,” she said, changing the subject.
Tinjin flashed her his brilliant smile one more time. “It’s nice to meet you, Natalie. So, where are you headed?”
She glanced over her shoulder, eyeing the snow that fell outside. “I was headed to Salt Lake City. Looks like I’m stuck here until this blows over.”
“Isn’t that a coincidence,” Tinjin exclaimed. “So am I. I’m going to meet my sister and her husband, to spend some time with my niece and nephew.”
“Do you come from a big family?” Natalie asked.
He shook his head. “Not really. It was just me and my sister, Tierra, growing up. But she married into a big family and it seems to be getting bigger and bigger every day,” Tinjin said with a soft chuckle.
Natalie smiled ever so slightly. “I come from a big family. Three brothers and a sister. There were five of us.”
“Where do you fall in the lineup?”
“I’m the youngest,” Natalie answered.
Tinjin stared as Natalie drifted off into reflection. He’d spied the woman from the entrance and had purposely maneuvered his way to her side. He figured if he had to be stuck at the airport then why not be stuck in the company of a beautiful woman?
And she was beautiful. Her eyes were pale, a shimmery hazel with flecks of green and brown. She had extraordinary cheekbones and her jawline was strong, angular and defined. Her skin was the color of light molasses, a rich, warm brown with red cinnamon undertones. She was exceptionally thin, and even seated he could see that she was tall. There was an essence of grace about her and with her light brown hair pulled into a loose ponytail, diamond studs decorating her earlobes and the barest hint of makeup adorning her chiseled features, she was stunning. At first glance Tinjin had sensed that he’d seen her somewhere before but couldn’t for the life of himself remember where. Then it came to him.
“You’re Natalia!” he said, leaning forward in his seat. “Vogue cover model, House of Dior ingenue and one of the most sought-after, high-profile models in the world,” he added as he waved his index finger excitedly.
Natalie blushed, color warming her complexion as her cheeks became heated. She rolled her eyes. “So what are you? Some kind of stalker? Do I need to be afraid? First my shoes and now my résumé? How do you know so much?”
Tinjin laughed. “I’m a shoe designer and I spend a lot of time following women’s fashion trends.”
“A shoe designer? Really?” Natalie didn’t look convinced, eyeing him warily.
Tinjin chuckled again. “I actually designed those shoes,” he said, pointing to the pair on the floor. He reached into his leather portfolio and pulled out a collection of pencil drawings. He passed them into Natalie’s hands, watching intently as she studied them.
The sketches were good; detailed drawings of footwear for the fashion-forward female. If he had designed them, she mused, then he had a great eye for heel height and lines. As Natalie flipped through the drawings in her hand she instantly recognized the pair of heels resting on the floor.
“So
