Authors: Chris Keniston
Tags: #contemporary romance, #Military, #troical, #beach, #resort, #Barefoot Bay, #Kindle Worlds
Text copyright ©2016 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Roxanne St. Claire. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Barefoot Bay remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Roxanne St. Claire, or their affiliates or licensors.
For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds
Books by Chris Keniston
Mai Tai Marriage
Dive Into You
The Look of Love
Love By Design
Love Walks In
Family Secret Novels
Hopes Corner, Texas
Honeymoon For One
Honeymoon for Three
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Welcome to Barefoot Bay Kindle World, a place for authors to write their own stories set in the tropical paradise that I created! For these books, I have only provided the setting of Mimosa Key and a cast of characters from my popular Barefoot Bay series. That’s it! I haven’t contributed to the plotting, writing, or editing of Silhouettes on the Sand. This book is entirely the work of bestselling author Chris Keniston, a talented writer I handpicked to help launch this new program.
Long before we met, I was a fan of Chris’s steamy beach romances. So, when the opportunity arose to launch a Barefoot Bay Kindle World program, Chris was one of the first writers I asked to join the party. And I’m so glad I did! This talented writer knows her way around a tropical setting and proves it on every page. Dipping her toes into my popular Barefoot Bay Billionaires trilogy, Chris introduces us to yet another wealthy member of the Ivory family and taps into my #1 favorite romance theme, “the pretend girlfriend.” Like every book she’s written, Chris scorches up the sand and gives romance readers a dreamy reading vacation in Barefoot Bay. All you have to do is kick off your shoes…and fall in love!
Roxanne St. Claire
PS. If you’re interested in the rest of the Barefoot Bay Kindle World novels, or would like to explore the possibility of writing your own book set in my world, stop by
"Our grandfather, a man richer than Bill Gates, offered to pay for the wedding, and the future Mrs. Nathaniel Ivory told him no?" Chase James Ivory tipped his brandy snifter at his sister Beth. "I like that girl more every day."
Head of the Ivory Glass Company, Chase had come to Mimosa Key, Florida, in preparation for the long-awaited second Ivory wedding involving his generation. His youngest brother "Naughty" Nate Ivory had finally been caught and tamed by one Liza Lemanski. The full siblings, Chase, Greg, Mitch, and Beth were waiting for Nate onboard his yacht to leave for a quiet sail along the Gulf coast before all the real chaos from the upcoming festivities began.
"You're going to love Liza," his sister Beth said with a smile. "Smart and sassy. Perfect for Nate. Dylan may not be her son by birth, but she's a mother bear nonetheless. No one tangles with Liza's family. Even though the Colonel grumbles about her stubbornness—often—I think he really likes her."
"If it means more great-grandchildren, I think he'd let Lucretia Borgia into the fold." Chase would have laughed at his own joke if he didn't think it held a grain of truth. "At least Liza's taken the pressure off the rest of us grandchildren to breed."
Beth almost snorted her brandy. "What planet are you living on? If anything it's made the Colonel more determined to increase the family troops. Oh, wait. That's right. You hide out in your New York man cave. Sleep, eat, and breathe Ivory Glass Company. I must say, moving the operations to the midtown high rise, including a penthouse apartment, made for an affordable commute. You never even have to leave the building. Ever."
"Now you sound like the old man." Ten years ago, when Chase had first come up with the mixed-use plans for the new Ivory headquarters, his grandfather had been delighted with the idea. Chase and his cousin Devlin, founder of one of the largest commercial real estate firms in the country, had worked out every detail before presenting it to their grandfather. That had been long before the patriarch had become obsessed with seeing his grandchildren procreate.
As far as the old man, a former marine colonel, was currently concerned, each of his grandchildren should have six children—the way he and his wife, Mimsy, of sixty years had done. Much to the Colonel's chagrin, every last one of his progeny was woefully behind the curve in increasing the troops—his loving reference to his family. Except Nate, who now had a new bride-to-be and a young son.
Never gonna meet a good woman if you live behind that desk. Balance, boy. Balance
," Chase mimicked his grandfather.
You can take the man out of the marines, but you can't take the marines out of the man. Push, push, push
." Beth tipped her head back and blew out a sigh. "Did you hear what he did to Greg?"
"At the fund-raiser last month?"
Beth nodded. "Greg made the mistake of telling the Colonel that he was going stag to our dear brother the senator's event."
"Greg runs a major Hollywood studio. Surely an up-and-coming actress would have been more than happy to have her photos splattered across every media outlet under the sun at a ten-thousand-dollar-a-plate dinner for the senate's golden boy."
"I don't think any of us realized the Colonel has upped the ante. If we can't find our own dates, he'll find someone for us."
"But sticking Greg all night with Gwyneth Van Klein? What was the Colonel thinking?" Chase pushed to his feet and crossed the lounge of his brother's yacht to refill his drink. One of the stuffiest families on the social registry, the Van Kleins had married off all their children but one. And for good reason.
Beth raised a single brow at her eldest brother, then shook her head. "The usual. Good stock. Wide hips. I swear, in this day and age, the old man still thinks of women as brood mares. He probably has Gwyneth's dental records."
"I'd be more worried that he probably has yours." Nate, the groom-to-be, came through the doorway. "Sorry I'm late. Meeting over at the new ball field ran long. I see you've already helped yourself to refreshments."
"We skipped the lemonade and went straight for the hard stuff." Beth smiled up at him.
"My Napoleon brandy." Nate laughed. "Rough week?"
"The Colonel gave me a lecture on my biological clock yesterday. And the day before—"
"And this morning," Nate added, his eyes filled with sympathy. "Sorry, sis."
"I'm used to it. It's not like I don't want to meet a nice guy, but it's not easy when your last name is Ivory."
And Chase knew exactly what she meant. Having a family fortune prominently reported for all to see, the Ivory name was a golden ticket for swindlers and fortune hunters. He'd been there, done that, and bought the wardrobe. Which is why he'd decided, before ever setting foot on Mimosa Key, to preempt the former marine colonel. Chase might not run a major movie studio, but he'd seen
. While he wasn't stupid enough to hire a hooker to appease his grandfather's matchmaking attempts, Chase wasn't beyond hiring a good actress. The plan had merit.
Strictly business. No emotions. No gold diggers. No complications.
* * *
"You’re getting paid to spend the next seven days with a man?" C. J. Lawson's head was ready to explode from her sister's newest crazy plan.
"Yes and no." Bev shrugged.
C.J. glared at her younger sister the same way she'd stare down a raw recruit and then drew upon years of military discipline not to scream in Bev's face. "You do realize those answers do not go together."
"Yes, for five thousand dollars now and five thousand at the end of the week, I'm being paid to spend one week with Chase Ivory but no not "
"Do you know where you're staying?"
C.J. refrained from rolling her eyes at her Pollyanna-like sister. "In a hotel?"
Nibbling on her lower lip, Bev hesitated a few minutes. "Maybe. He might have mentioned a boat."
"Okay." Who would have thought dealing with raw recruits would be easier than shaking some sense into her sister? "Maybe in a hotel, or a boat, but definitely in separate rooms?"
"Oh." Bev stopped tossing clothes into her suitcase. "I didn't ask."
. Never before had C.J. wished so hard that Bev had gotten a few less beauty genes and just a teensy-weensy bit more of the brains in the family. At five foot five and 110 pounds with a twenty-four inch waist and blue eyes the shade of an azure crayon, Bev conjured images of Marilyn Monroe, Judy Holiday, and a long list of talented women who got more from sex appeal than smarts. "How could you not ask about sleeping arrangements?"
"Because, for ten thousand dollars, I don't really care if he puts me on the roof."
"Or in his bed?"
Sweater in hand, Bev froze and looked up at her sister. "That wasn't part of the negotiations."