Seduction on the Sand (The Billionaires of Barefoot Bay #2) (19 page)

“Oh, he’s real. My husband has been in on a lot of the planning sessions, and he’s told me how Elliott’s fought for this. The Barefoot Bay Bucks was his idea, and he’s paid gazillions to buy land around and adjacent to yours so no one had to touch your farm. And he’s masterminded this charity program where a portion of every game ticket sold is going to a foundation he’s starting called No Kidding that gives goats to families in Third World countries to help feed them with goat’s milk.”

She just blinked at her. “I’ve created a monster. In a good way.”

Jocelyn laughed. “He’s the butt of their every joke, but he loves it because he loves...” She caught herself. “He’s a good guy,” she added softly.
 

“I’m scared.” The admission came right from the heart and didn’t even surprise her. She was scared. Scared to love and lose again. Scared to trust and believe and hope.

Jocelyn stepped forward with outstretched hands. “You wouldn’t be human if you weren’t a little afraid. You can’t protect yourself from never getting hurt, Frankie. If you try to do that, you’ll never live. You’ll never know.” She gave Frankie a light hug. “I’m going out to the pavilion to watch the show. Want to come?”

“I’ll stay here, if you don’t mind.”

“Think about it,” Jocelyn said as she left Frankie alone.

After a moment, Frankie sat down again and stared at the model. It was like he’d climbed into her imagination and her heart and made her dreams come true.
 

“All
our
dreams,
piccolina
.”

She whipped around at the sound, but the room was empty. The door was closed. And she was alone. “Nonno?” A shudder passed through her, and then a complete and thorough sense of peace and comfort.

But there was nothing, no one, not even a flutter in the air. Only the fine line between her imagination and what was
real
.
 

And then she knew what she had to do.

Chapter Thirteen

Elliott stood to the far side of the makeshift platform stage, next to Zeke and their fourth partner, Garrett Flynn, the three of them content to stay out of the limelight. The media weren’t here for anyone but Nate Ivory, who, despite his proclaimed distaste for the spotlight, looked damned at home with a ton of it pouring over him.

The patio of Junonia was full with media and VIP guests, but Elliott’s gaze stayed locked on the doors leading into the spa, his every breath strained as he waited for Frankie. All he wanted was a chance to show her what he was made of, what he could be.

But she stayed conspicuously out of sight.

He turned back to the reason they were here, the news of the Barefoot Bay Bucks. In answer to a question about management, Nate explained that he’d be living in Barefoot Bay and supervising the building of the stadium complex and managing the day-to-day logistics of starting a new minor-league team.
 

“I’m planning to be here a lot, too,” Zeke said under his breath. “You?”

Elliott slid him a glance. “Not sure yet.”

Zeke tracked his gaze to the spa door. “Did you actually beg?”

“Like a pathetic dog.”

“One knee?”

“Till I had carpet burn.”

“I can’t believe she didn’t go for the goat-farm idea.”

Elliott blew out a noisy breath. “I messed up so bad, Zeke.”

“You never know.”

But he knew. He’d taken his usual, easy, effortless shortcut to get what he wanted, and it had cost him everything. He wasn’t quite sure when he’d become so certain that Frankie Cardinale was everything, but it didn’t matter. She was, so now he had nothing.

Finally, the questions turned away from Nate and back to the Bucks, and the stadium complex, and that brought Will Palmer front and center. Thanks to him, they were well connected with the resort, including the talented architect who’d built the place, Clay Walker. Together with Clay, they answered questions about logistics and environmental concerns, and how to handle the increased traffic this would bring to the island.

All the while, Elliott watched that door, his heart sinking like the sun behind him, lower and lower as each minute ticked by.

“I have to talk to her,” he murmured to Zeke.

“Now?”

“I have to.” Before Zeke could stop him, he shot to the side of the patio deck, trying to stay inconspicuous as he hustled behind the crowd and jogged down the stairs. He pulled the door and swore softly to find it locked. Without giving it another thought, he set off to find another way back into the resort, determined and certain now. It took a full five minutes to work through the crowd, back into the lobby, and to the front entrance of the spa.

Without even glancing at the receptionist, he marched right into the management offices, yanked the door open, and...stared at nothing.

She was gone and so was the model of La Dolce Vita.

For a second, he couldn’t breathe, his pulse slamming against his temples, a band of disappointment clamping his chest. Shaking his head, he stood in the doorway and let the power-punch of regret and disappointment pound him.
 

He didn’t want to live without her, but she clearly felt differently.
 
Taking one step inside, he fought a sting in his eyes and a lump in his throat.
 

Next time he’d be real. No matter how hard it was, he’d never fake his way through anything again. If nothing else, that’s what a week on the goat farm had taught him.

Swallowing the pain and his pride, he turned and retraced his footsteps, all the way through the lobby, into the restaurant, and back to the deck where he heard...

A woman’s voice through the microphone?

Stepping into the fading sunshine, he peered over the heads of the guests, to see Nate, Garrett, and Zeke on the stage alongside...Frankie?

“I’m thrilled to partner with the project,” she said into the microphone, her voice clear and strong and like music to his ears. “My grandfather was a founding father of this island, and I know he’d be over the moon to see a team named after his beloved animals and this wonderful visitors’ center...”
 

Elliott shouldered his way forward, reaching the front just as Frankie pointed to the table they’d set up with the three-dimensional stadium complex model, this time with the addition of La Dolce Vita.

She met his gaze, smiling through eyes as misty as his felt right then and reached her hand out. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

He stepped forward, taking her hand and joining his partners. All of them.

Nate leaned up to the microphone. “And now for what you’ve all really been waiting for—the exhibition game! You know we have players from five different Major League teams and our own softball team for a game of sandlot.” He pointed to the beach where a large area had been cleared for a makeshift ball game. “And I do mean sand.”

A cheer went up, mostly from the other guys on the Niners who’d come down for the event, but Elliott barely heard. Instead, he gripped Frankie’s hand.

“Partner?” he asked.

“Not only that,” she said with a smile, lifting her hand to slide on a baseball cap with a stylized N. “I qualify to play on your team.”
 

He reached to hug her, but Nate gave his shoulder a slam. “No kissing. We gotta win this game.”

“He hates to lose,” Elliott told her. “So we’ll kiss later.”

“Damn right we will, Becker.”

“Frankie! You did it!” A beautiful young woman sidled up to Frankie, her arms outstretched. “I’m so happy for you!”
 

Frankie hugged her, laughing. “Thanks for breaking the rules, Liza.” She turned to Elliott. “You remember Liza Lemanski, the great unraveler of red tape.”

In a flash, Nate was next to him, his focus on the beautiful blue-eyed brunette. “I like a woman who can unravel.”

Liza didn’t giggle or flush or toss her hair like most women when Nate Ivory zeroed in on them. Instead, she pinned him with a dead-serious look. “Good,” she said. “Because I’ve come to do a little unraveling.”

Elliott looked skyward and finally got his arm around Frankie, pulling her into him and taking her down to the beach. “What changed your mind?” he whispered when they were finally alone on the sand.

“Nonno.”

“You think he would have liked the idea?”

“I know he does.” She smiled up at him. “He told me.”

“He did?” Elliott raised his brows. “What else did he say?”

She turned, the sunset behind her a golden glow, her dark hair falling over one eye under the ball cap, her smile lit up from deep in her heart. “You’re the real deal.”

He let out a sigh and pulled her into his chest. “I been trying to tell you that.”
 

“I had to figure it out for myself.” She kissed him long and hard, and rested her head on his shoulder. “You really want to be a goatherd, Becker?”

“You really want to spend your life with a billionaire, Francesca?”

She smiled up at him. “Yeah. Come on, let’s play.”

Arm in arm, they walked together toward home base.

Coming Soon...

One more negative headline will cost Nate Ivory everything, so he’s made a vow to stay out of trouble, no matter how difficult that can be for “Naughty Nate.” But Liza Lemanski has some news that’s not only scandalous...it is about to rock his entire world. Turn the page for an excerpt of SCANDAL ON THE SAND, the third novella in the Billionaires of Barefoot Bay trilogy.

And did you miss...

SECRETS ON THE SAND, the first novella in the Billionaires of Barefoot Bay trilogy?
 

Get
Secrets on the Sand
here!

Excerpt of Scandal on the Sand

It was the eyes. As soon as Nate caught a glimpse of the arresting color, somehow both impossibly ocean blue and bottle green, he had to talk to the woman who’d approached the platform, listening carefully as she was introduced to one of his friends.

“You remember Liza Lemanski, the great unraveler of red tape.”

Nate didn’t waste a nanosecond getting closer. “I like a woman who can unravel.”
 

“Good.” Her turquoise gaze held no hint of playfulness. “Because I’ve come to do a little unraveling.”
 

His friend made some kind of parting jab, reminding Nate that he was up third in the exhibition softball game that was about to start, but Nate’s focus was on the woman in front of him. “So, who’s getting unraveled, blue eyes?” he asked.

“You.”

Nice.
“And I like a woman who doesn’t mess around.”

“That’s not what I hear.” She still wasn’t smiling, making him wonder if the comment was a flirt or not. “We need to talk, Nate.”

That would be...
not
. Did he know her and forget those gorgeous eyes? Anything was possible, of course. With him, everything was possible. Or used to be.

How long would his past mistakes haunt him? Was he about to get an earful of how he’d made promises he’d never kept or taken phone numbers he’d never used or...worse? It could always be worse. Instantly, he felt his protective privacy walls rise like titanium barriers as he automatically reached for the sunglasses in his pocket.

“Sure, sure, let’s talk after the game.” Slipping them on, he took all the humor out of his tone and a step in the other direction.

She came with him. “Let’s talk now.”

“It’ll only be three innings and then we’re having cocktails on my yacht. We can unravel anything you want, blue eyes.” He lifted his hand in a half-hearted wave goodbye.
 

“
Now
.” No room for argument with that single syllable.

Damn. He glanced around the large deck where he had just finished the press conference announcing the plan to launch a minor-league baseball team in Barefoot Bay. No one came to his rescue. The media and his business partners were already headed toward the beach for the exhibition softball game they’d put together to cap off the event. “I can’t now. I’m batting cleanup.”

“Yes, you are. Right this minute. With me.”

Pushy little thing, wasn’t she? Protected by reflective lenses, he let his gaze drift over her, taking his time on the generous cleavage that peeked out of a V-neck T-shirt and the nice curves under her jeans. She couldn’t be five-four and a hundred and ten soaking wet.
 

“What’s this about?” he asked, getting a sense that it
wasn’t
about seeing her soaking wet, either.

“I just need your signature.”

“Oh.” Relief washed through him as he let out a breath he’d been holding since he heard the edge in her voice. “You just want an autograph?”

“No, I want your
signature
.”

That couldn’t be good. “Listen, sweetheart, I have to play a ball game. So, later’s better.” Later, he’d be surrounded by his rec softball team and some pro ballplayers, safe from any accusations, blackmail, or sob story she might fling at him.