Summoning a determination she didn’t feel, Tamara opened her mouth.
“Don’t lie to yourself, and don’t lie to me,” Sawyer said softly, his tone nevertheless conveying a note of implacability.
Her brows snapped together. Well, she wasn’t going to engage in any hollow denials. But she didn’t like the way he’d thrown her off balance.
“What do you want?” she said.
“I think you already know.”
“You came in here for a necklace,” she persisted.
“Among other things.”
How could he seem so rational when she was still trying to recover from the effect of their kiss?
“Don’t think you can seduce me into changing my mind about your proposal.”
“Fine,” he said, gimlet-eyed. “But I’m offering a way for you to save Pink Teddy Designs. I thought that would appeal to the small-business owner in you.”
She hated that he knew what straits she was in. She hated that he had well-honed instincts and knew her weak spots.
“I see,” she said coolly, striving to match her tone to his. “I suppose if you’re going to torpedo my social life, you feel you owe it to me to at least help me professionally?”
He arched a brow. “Are you talking about Tom?”
“Yes!”
“There was no passion there.”
“How do you know?” she retorted.
“The cutesy moniker says it all. ‘Tam and Tom.’ You sounded like pals.”
“Meaning you’d never be caught dead dating someone who was worthy of a cutesy little tandem name?”
“Correct,” he said, and then added bluntly, “Did you sleep with him?”
A note of belligerence had entered his tone. She knew Sawyer’s purpose was to dismiss Tom as inconsequential.
“It’s none of your business,” she snapped.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Sawyer said. “Poor bastard. I thought so.”
She wanted to wipe the satisfied expression off his face. “Tom is one of the good guys. He isn’t after control of my father’s company.”
“Don’t kid yourself, sweetheart. Tom isn’t a saint.” Sawyer’s eyes swept over her. “On the other hand, since he kept his hands off of you, maybe he is.”
Tamara felt a strange thrill. Had Sawyer just admitted to finding her hard to resist?
She pushed the question away. She reminded herself that Sawyer was simply trying to get his way. He’d say or do anything to sway her. He was ruthless. Just like her father.
With that thought, she scoffed, “What could you possibly have to pin on Tom?”
Sawyer looked her in the eye. “Maybe he was dating you because of your connection to Kincaid News.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re despicable!”
“He jumped at the opportunity to go to L.A., didn’t he?”
“Only because you arranged to make him an irresistible offer!”
Tamara reluctantly recalled that Tom had asked her about Kincaid News, even after she’d explained to him that help was unlikely to come for his band from that quarter. Still, she refused to see his interest in her as less than genuine.
“He was quick to sell you out with information about your current financial situation,” Sawyer pointed out ruthlessly. “When it became clear how I could help his career, he was eager as a puppy.”
“And you’re a puppy in need of obedience training!”
Sawyer’s lips quirked with amusement. “Volunteering for the job?”
“No, thank you.”
Sawyer’s expression became enigmatic. “At least I’ve been clear about what I want.”
“Yes,” she retorted disdainfully. “Kincaid News.”
“No, you and Kincaid News,” he contradicted, and then his look softened. “I’m offering you a final chance to salvage your dream. Isn’t becoming a jewelry designer what you’ve always wanted to do?”
She was like Eve being tempted by the apple, Tamara thought. How had he known she’d 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.
“I remember visiting Dunnyhead once,” he mused, naming her father’s estate in Scotland. “You were wearing a bead bracelet that you’d made yourself.”
Tamara was surprised Sawyer remembered. Her father had given her a jewelry-making kit during her stay at Dunnyhead. She’d just turned twelve, and it had been one of the few times after her parents’ divorce her father had seemed aware of her interests and hobbies.
She’d strung together translucent green beads from the kit into a fair semblance of a hippie bracelet. Her father, she recalled, hadn’t been particularly impressed. Still, she’d kept her beaded creation for years afterward.
During that stay at Dunnyhead, she recalled she’d played with her younger sisters, Julia and Arabella, who’d been five and two. But until this moment, she hadn’t remembered Sawyer’s visit.
“Who did you want to be when you grew up?” Sawyer probed, his tone inviting. “You must have had someone you aspired to be like.”
“I wanted to be an original,” she replied, her defenses lowering a notch.
Sawyer gave a low laugh. “Of course. I should have guessed. Tamara Kincaid has always been unique.”
Despite herself, a smile of shared amusement rose to her lips. “After the divorce,” she divulged, “my mother kept some pieces from Bulgari, Cartier and Harry Winston that my father had given her.”
“And I bet you loved putting them on,” he guessed.
“My father wouldn’t let me play in the family vault,” she deadpanned.
“I’d let you play with the Melton jewels,” he joked, but his eyes gleamed like polished stones. “Hell, you could wear them to your heart’s content.”
“Trying to bribe me?” she said lightly.
“Whatever works.”
Her eyes came to rest beyond Sawyer. She saw her workbench scattered with the implements of a jeweler’s trade.
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