Seduction on the Sand (The Billionaires of Barefoot Bay #2) (8 page)

“You lived in this trailer?” he asked.

“Oh, no. We had a little ranch house, but it was messed up badly in a hurricane that hit the island a few years ago. He put this up temporarily.”
 

“I guess it was a great escape from the pain of what you’d gone through in New York,” he said.

Everyone thought that, and it made sense. “It didn’t seem like that to me at the time. I enjoyed the animals and loved Nonno and he loved me. Completely and wholly and unconditionally. Way more than my parents did, or at least than they acted like they did.”

“Like, he went to your teacher conferences instead of working?”

She laughed softly. “Even better. After the first year at Mimosa High, he yanked me out and homeschooled me because the teachers were all ‘from hunger,’ he used to say.”

“He educated you himself?”

She shrugged. “More or less. He certainly taught me how to milk goats and breed them, and how to make soap and cheese, and get a doe ready to give birth. But that’s not exactly what qualifies as an education in the state of Florida.”
 

Comfortable now, she tucked her legs under her and shimmied back to look at him. That was no hardship. His dark gaze was right on her, every word hitting his heart, she could tell.
 

“And that was a problem,” she added. “Enough of a problem that my Aunt Jenny swooped down from New York, went to war with the courts, and got me to go live with her in Roslyn Heights, Long Island, also known as living hell for me.”

Which was actually the understatement of all time. “My cousins were entitled, obnoxious, partying bitches, and my aunt and uncle were as money-obsessed as my parents. I don’t know how I survived there, but I did.”

“Then you came back here?” he guessed.

“I went to Florida State and got a degree in animal science and, of course, I stayed with Nonno on every break and in the summer. The more I learned, the more I had ideas for this place. It has so much potential to be a real money-making operation if he had only brought it into the twenty-first century. But Nonno didn’t like…the twenty-first century. He had a rotary phone here until the day he died.”

“So that’s what you want to do now? Make it a twenty-first-century goat farm?”
 

“No.” She pulled her legs up again, wrapping her arms around her jeans, not liking this part of her story any more than the part about her parents. “I made him a promise that I wouldn’t and, honestly, I lost interest in high-tech farming.”

“Why?”

“After college I…we…” She closed her eyes against the tears that welled. “We had a bad fight about modernizing this place. I’m telling you, there is no creature on earth as pigheaded and close-minded and obstinate as an old Italian man. I wanted to expand and install a whole milking and dairy system, and he just wanted to make soap and cheese and maybe have a little petting farm and retail storefront when he rebuilt the house. I was on fire with youth and ambition, and he was mellow with age and the simple joys in life. We fought pretty badly.” She managed a wry smile. “I may have inherited that stubborn streak.”

“Ya think?” Laughing softly, he brushed a strand of her hair off her face, the gesture so intimate it sent an unwanted rush through her, but also encouraging, so she kept talking.

“Anyway, after our big argument, I went to DC and got a really important job at the Department of Agriculture and Nonno…” Her voice hitched, and he reached for her hand, swallowing it in his much more sizable ones. “He had a stroke.”

“And you weren’t here.”

She looked at him, touched for some reason that he would understand just how horrible that was. “No, I wasn’t. And if I had been…”

“He still would have had a stroke.”

She shook her head vehemently. “But I might have gotten him to the hospital sooner or maybe I would have seen an early symptom.” Guilt wracked her voice and pinched her heart. “But I was in Washington…and…” She swallowed but forced herself to make the admission. “I was no better than my parents in being somewhere other than where I should have been, chasing success and big dreams and—”

“Big dreams? In the Department of Agriculture?” He couldn’t hide the incredulity in his voice.

“I was on a fast track to a directorship,” she countered. “But that’s all over now, thankfully.”

“Because you promised him you’d run the farm the way he wanted you to?”

“I promised him...” She wasn’t really sure if he’d heard that promise, so what did it matter? Damn it, her voice truly cracked then.

“Tell me, Frankie.” With a little pressure from his hand, it felt natural to let go of her grip on her legs and allow them to drop, removing the protective barrier she’d created as she told her story. Automatically, Elliott took up the space by getting closer.
 

She closed her eyes and reminded herself that the promise
did
matter. “He was in a coma when I arrived from DC,” she whispered, letting herself be transported back to that night. “I sat with him in the ICU and apologized and promised and begged him to stay alive. But he just stayed completely still and asleep.”
 

Elliott stroked her knuckles, as if to gently coax the story out of her.

“One night, after about two weeks, he woke up, and we talked for hours.”
 

Hadn’t they?
 

“What did you talk about?” Elliott asked, leaning forward, fully invested in the story.
 

“He wanted me to know he’d forgiven me for leaving and he loved me...” She swallowed so her voice didn’t hitch, but the way Elliott caressed her hand nearly did her in. “He wanted this farm to be a perfect slice of heaven with a herd sired by the buck he’d brought over from his home country.
 
So I promised him I’d do exactly that, and I also promised him that I would never, ever let this land be owned by anyone who wasn’t in the Cardinale family. And I’m keeping those promises.” She closed her eyes. “He died...that night. In fact...”
 

Her voice faded out, a sob threatening. “Shhh. That’s all. You don’t have to tell me any more.”

But she did. He had to know why this mattered so much to her. “I promised him I’d keep the land and do exactly what he’d wanted to do with it. Then I moved in here for what was going to be a week or two while I figured things out and sifted through his belongings and figured out someone to take care of the farm when I went back to DC.”

“How were you going to run the farm from DC?”

“I didn’t know,” she answered honestly. “But I stayed here a week, then two, then three...” She smiled. “Then I quit my job and decided to stay...for a while.”

He lifted a brow. “You just quit this job that was on the fast track?”

She shrugged. “I have, you know, some money from my parents, and I never expected to like it so much here. To feel so...at home.” Lonely, but at home.
 

Something flickered in his expression. A little hurt maybe? A little fear? Perhaps he’d just realized how crappy it would be to try to buy her home. He lifted their joined hands to his mouth, breathing a soft kiss on her knuckles. Goose bumps flowered up her arms, and chills trickled down her spine, but she managed to stay still.

A centimeter of space closed between them, but she wasn’t sure who leaned closer to whom...it was like a magnetic force pulling them toward each other for a kiss.

His lips were warm, soft, sweet, and Frankie didn’t even bother to fight, opening her mouth just enough to taste his tongue and hope that this wasn’t fake and neither was this very sweet man.

“Let me go with you today,” he said, his voice surprisingly gruff. “You don’t want to be alone.”

No, she didn’t. Not today, and not...tonight. “Yeah, cowboy. You can come.”

* * *

Morning sun bounced off the massive glass building that took up a city block when Frankie and Elliott reached the entrance to the County Clerk’s offices on the mainland. Despite the brightness, Frankie knew a maze of lines and cubicles lay behind those shiny walls, populated by frustrated people and overworked clerks and wrapped in red tape.
 

If only she could find Liza, the amazing clerk who’d helped her last time.

“I can’t believe I have to go in there again,” she sighed. The last time, when she confirmed that the property was hers despite the lack of official paperwork, she’d lost nearly six hours in the place.
 

Elliott kept a light hand on her back and squinted up at the place, and glanced around the campus of Collier County government buildings. “Nice real estate, though.”

“Not if you’re stuck inside.” At least today, she’d have him next to her, and for some reason she didn’t want to examine too closely, she was happy about that. Maybe it was his steady presence or close attention, but she liked having him here.
 

And she’d liked kissing him back home. A lot.

Just as they stepped under the entrance awning, Elliott paused and reached into his pocket, glancing at his cell. “I have to take this call. Why don’t you get started without me? Who are you meeting with, so I can find you?”

“Just call me. Take down my cell.”

He looked at the phone with a face that said he had no time for that now.
 

“Okay, best bet would be in Official Land Records,” Frankie said. “The lady who helped me last time was Liza...” She dug into her memory for the woman’s last name. “Lemanski! Liza Lemanski.”

“Got it.” He gave her an impulsive kiss on the forehead and stepped away with the phone to his ear. “This is Becker.”

Becker. Even the way he said his last name was sexy. He didn’t even look back to say goodbye as he walked away, obviously seeking privacy. Trying not to be disappointed—hell, how had she gotten so used to him already?—she went inside to start the long process of waiting in lines, filling out forms, taking a number, and waiting some more.
 

About fifteen minutes later, Elliott came up behind her in line.

“I have an emergency,” he said softly. “It could take an hour or two. You can handle this on your own?”

“Of course I can,” she said quickly, fighting irritation that he would even imply she couldn’t. Or maybe it was irritation because he kept disappearing. Or these bureaucrats kept giving her a runaround. Truth was, everything had her irritated right then. She closed her eyes. “This is just frustrating.”

“I know.” He stepped closer and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “When we’re done, we’ll stop by my place at the resort and...” He let his voice fade and, damn it all, didn’t her imagination and hormones go wild. “Maybe take a walk on the beach. Have a drink. Relax.”

And fall into his bed.

She inched back, not sure where the thought came from, but it sure wasn’t the first time she’d had it. With a quick and unexpected peck on her lips, he was gone.
 

She shifted to her other foot and checked her number again, furious at the way he’d left her so electrified. And disappointed to be alone. Why in God’s name would his leaving affect her like that? He was a billionaire, for crying out loud, and it was Monday morning. Of course, he had more important things to worry about than her little property problem.

Just like her parents
.

She shoved that thought out of her mind, scrunching her eyes shut to mentally erase the words.
 
Over the course of the next two hours, she met with ineffective clerk after ineffective clerk. Keyboards were pounded, file drawers were opened, then she was sent to another department, then another.

It all reminded her so much of her old job that her stomach clenched. She’d never go back to that, never. She really did just want her farm and her goats and...

Becker’s face flashed in her mind. And his body. And the whole cycle of thoughts started all over again.

Finally, she got to Land Records where she was greeted by a familiar face, and the first one smiling all day.

“Liza!” Frankie reached out to shake her hand, not surprised when the other woman added a friendly hug. They’d gotten pretty darn friendly the last time Frankie had been here, and Liza had been an absolute treasure helping her navigate a maze of red tape and brick walls.

“What are you doing back here?” Liza asked, her stunning turquoise-colored eyes dancing with warmth. “The ninety-day wait period hasn’t passed yet.”

“I know, but I’ve been informed that someone has tried to file an illegal will in my grandfather’s name.”

Liza frowned and gestured to the hall. “I’ve been digging around since I got the message that you were worming your way through the processing system from hell. C’mon, let’s go in my office and talk.”

In the windowless room, Frankie took the guest chair, remembering the hominess of the little office, despite its lack of windows and abundance of government-issued ugly furniture. Frankie had seen her share of these four walls, but Liza made hers welcoming, with a lamp on the table instead of fluorescent light and a few pictures of a darling little brown-eyed boy she assumed was Liza’s son.

“It’s very puzzling,” Liza finally said as she slipped into her chair behind the desk. “I found that will a few hours ago when I first got the notification from documents pending that you were looking for it.”