Hayes and Carlotta exchanged surprised glances the moment they heard Marigold’s words.
“Your son is too kind–there’s really no need to go to such lengths,” Hayes said politely to Marigold.
Marigold shot a glance at Jonathan. Jonathan’s face remained impassive, as if he hadn’t heard a word of their conversation.
Truth be told, Marigold herself was at a loss. She had no idea why Jonathan would bid so extravagantly for one of Niamh’s designs. It’s not as if he had any use for a golden phoenix comb. Dropping that kind of money was obviously a gesture–a gift for a woman he cared about.
Marigold’s first thought was Marina Thornton. After all, Marina had been
Jonathan’s first love, and ever since his return to the country, he’d looked after her with exceptional care. Lately, though, it was clear even to outsiders that Jonathan’s attitude toward Marina had cooled. If he were still infatuated, he wouldn’t have agreed to let them set up this business meeting with the Quinns in the first place.
Officially, the Thomases and the Quinns were here to discuss a joint venture. But Jonathan was nobody’s fool; he must have realized their real agenda was to use the business talk as a pretext to push him and Ramona together.
In the past, Jonathan and Marina had been inseparable at every event. Yet this time, at the charity gala, Jonathan hadn’t even suggested bringing Marina along.
The more Marigold thought about it, the more convinced she became: the only logical recipient for such a lavish gift was Ramona. Jonathan was nothing if not
astute–he understood the delicate balance of advantages and knew how to make the right impression. By spending a fortune on a piece of jewelry for Ramona, he could win her favor and, at the same time, earn the praise of Hayes and Carlotta.
The more she dwelled on it, the more gratified Marigold felt. Jonathan truly lived to his role as the Thomas family’s heir–he didn’t need to be told how to win Ramona’s goodwill.
up
Jonathan’s fifty–million–dollar bid was enough to make every other competitor, even Prince William, shrink back.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Prince William asked quietly, noticing how Niamh’s
expression had turned serious after Jonathan’s sky–high offer.
LENDE
“It’s nothing,” Niamh replied, shaking her head.
Sitting beside her, Peter had also picked up on the shift in her mood. He guessed that Niamh wasn’t thrilled at the thought of her painstakingly designed comb ending up in Jonathan’s hands–especially if…
Peter glanced toward the next table. Jonathan sat there, stone–faced, while everyone else chatted and laughed. Clearly, Jonathan’s public, record–breaking bid was meant as a gift for the Quinn family’s heiress.
“Fifty–one million.”
Suddenly, from a table near the back, a man’s voice rang out–familiar enough to make Niamh’s heart skip. She turned instinctively to look, watching as the man stood up and began strolling casually toward the front.
The lighting at the guest tables was dim, so Niamh couldn’t see his face clearly until he reached the front row. He was tall and broad–shouldered, dressed in a royal blue suit. A pair of gold–rimmed glasses perched on his aquiline nose, and his narrow eyes sparkled with a lazy, playful smile. The whole aura he gave off was one of effortless intellect–a true scholar, from head to toe.
But these days, Niamh had a different word for that kind of charm: a wolf in gentleman’s clothing.
“What are you doing here?” she blurted out in surprise.
Michael Burton adjusted his glasses, leaned in close to her ear, and said lightly, “Just here to cheer you on.”
Niamh blinked, watching as Michael gestured for a staff member to fetch him a chair. He slid in beside her as if he belonged there, making the table suddenly feel a whole lot more crowded.
It had been quite a while since Niamh had last seen Michael. She never would have expected to run into him at this charity auction.
