Property of a Noblewoman by Danielle Steel

them so strong, that he would wind up alone when no one measured up to his parents’ marriage. He didn’t seem worried about remaining a bachelor and often said that he would prefer to be alone than with a woman who was less than what he wanted. And his mother had suggested to him that he was looking for a female with a halo and wings, which was certainly not who she was. But it was how Phillip viewed her, and he stubbornly refused to tolerate any woman’s flaws. And by now, he liked his own habits. Adjusting to someone else was not his strong suit. As a result, he spent a lot of time alone on his boat, working diligently on it during the weekends. For now,
Sweet Sallie
was enough for him, or so he claimed. And solitude didn’t scare him. He liked it.
    On Sunday afternoon, after two good days of sailing in bright sun and strong winds, he drove into the city, to have dinner with his mother at her apartment, as he often did on Sunday nights, when neither of them had other plans. She liked to stay busy. She readily admitted that she was a terrible cook, and reminded him regularly of one of her many human failings that he chose to overlook. When he came to the apartment to have dinner, she would go to a nearby delicatessen and buy all the things he liked, and they would sit at her kitchen table, talk about her current work, her next gallery show, his discontent with Christie’s, or anything else of interest to him. She was more like a friend than a mother to him now, was seldom critical of him, made intelligent suggestions, and at seventy-four was the most youthful person he knew, with an open mind, a deep knowledge of art she had always shared with him, and fascinating creative ideas. She was never afraid to tackle difficult or controversial subjects, and sometimes preferred them. Valerie had always encouraged her son to think outside the box and explore new concepts and ideas. She hoped that he would meet a woman who would challenge him, enough to conquer his own fears of winding up with the wrong woman, but so far he never had. She thought his expectations of a woman were unrealistic, but she hadn’t lost hope for him yet, and hoped the right one would come along and shake him up a little. And he was young enough that there was no rush. But she was also well aware that he had gotten set in his ways, and enjoyed his own company too much. Lately, he had gotten lazy about dating. And his obsession with his boat didn’t appeal to many women, as she pointed out to him.
    “Why don’t you go skiing, or take up some sport where you’ll meet women?” she prodded him occasionally, and he just laughed at her. She didn’t like interfering in his life, but was sorry to see him alone, and didn’t want him to stay that way forever.
    “I’m not trying to meet women, Mother. I meet women every day.” The kind who sold the gifts men had given them when the marriage or affair ended, and had little respect or affection for the sentiment behind the gifts. They were only interested in the money they would get from selling them at auction. Or he met women who worked in the other departments at Christie’s, who were sometimes a little too serious for him. He had gone out with one who was extremely knowledgeable about gothic and medieval art, and his mother had thought she seemed like a member of the Addams family when she met her, but didn’t comment. Phillip had come to that conclusion too and stopped seeing her shortly after. He had been without a relationship for a year now, since the last one. And most of his friends were married by now and having first or second children. He preferred women his own age to younger ones, and many of them were married.
    In the meantime, he had Sunday-night dinner with his mother whenever she wasn’t too busy to see him. He enjoyed her company, and they often laughed at the same things. And he always relaxed in the comfortable chaos of her apartment. All her life, she’d had the ability to turn