Seduction on the Sand (The Billionaires of Barefoot Bay #2) (9 page)

Frankie shot forward. “And it’s fake, right?”

She blew out a breath. “I don’t know. It’s disappeared right out of the system not twenty minutes ago.”

“What?”

“It’s the strangest thing,” she said, turning to tap on her computer keyboard as if she hoped it might magically appear again. “I wouldn’t have even looked, but a notice came that you were in the process office and would eventually make your way here, and, of course, I remembered you and how there was no will and no deed for your No... What did you call him again?”

“Nonno,” she supplied. “It’s Italian for grandfather.”

Liza smiled. “Yes, I liked that and your story about your farm. It sounds so dreamy, you know?”

“It is,” Frankie said, understanding the longing to escape bureaucracy. “You should bring your son to my farm sometime. He’d love the goats.”

Liza’s smile faltered, and her gaze shifted to the framed picture next to her computer. “Oh, he’s not my...” Liza gave a tight smile. “Sure. I’d love to bring him over, thank you.” A box flashed on the screen, taking her attention back to the computer. “Ugh, still says ‘file not found,’ but...”

“But what?” Frankie leaned forward, trying to get a better look at the screen.

“Well, when I saw that notice that you were trying to track down a will and I found it, I had a chance to see the document scan.” Her pretty mouth drew down. “I hate to tell you, it looked legit.”

“It did?” Worry clamped her chest.
 

Liza’s gaze softened and grew sympathetic, like a doctor about to deliver very bad news. “Frankie, we do see this kind of thing from time to time.”

“What kind of thing?”

“Older folks do get scammed like that. These con artists and developers comb old-age homes and even some neighborhoods looking for elderly citizens who haven’t written a will, then they persuade the person, who is oftentimes not completely, you know...” She tapped her temple and gave a sympathetic tilt to her head.

“Nonno was pretty alert,” Frankie said. But then, she’d been gone awhile. How did she know how alert he was? She didn’t know he was sick enough to have a stroke, either.

“I’m sure he was, but in some cases, these people don’t know what they’re signing because they don’t have family to advise them.”

And neither had Nonno, because she was in Washington, DC. Tamping down guilt, she leaned forward. “Can you fight that?”

“Oh, absolutely, with the right attorney. Unless, of course, the land gets sold before you get a hold of it. Then you’re in trouble.”

Frankie pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing against the frustration headache that had started hours earlier. “So, what happened to the document?”

Liza whooshed out a breath that fluttered her bangs. “I do not know, and I tell you, I’m freaking Sherlock Holmes when it comes to investigating things like this. I’ve dug through every file I can find, but it’s gone.”

“Then, that’s good, right?”

She shook her head. “It’s just weird. It could mean that it was flagged by someone, somewhere, and pulled from the system, or it could mean that someone made an offer on the land and a Realtor has the will.”

Frankie sucked in a breath. “No!”

“Don’t panic yet. I’m going to make this a top priority, and I promise to call you when I find it. Is this still your cell number?” She read from the open file, and Frankie confirmed.
 

Liza walked out with her, still chatting as they went down the hall, but when she opened the door, she went stone silent. Then she turned to Frankie. “Brace yourself. Hottie in the office.”

Frankie laughed, remembering how a handsome man could send a reaction fluttering through the otherwise dull halls of a government building. She inched around to take a peek, her whole body tightening at what she saw. Not a hottie...
her
hottie.

“There you are,” Elliott said, coming toward her with outstretched hands. “I thought you got lost in the maze.”

Instead, she was lost in an unexpected embrace.
 

She turned to say goodbye to Liza, who was staring hard at Elliott, a frown tugging as if she was trying to place him.
 

“Liza, this is Elliott Becker. Elliott, Liza Lemanski, the most helpful person in this building.”

Elliott nodded hello. “Helpful, as in you straightened everything out?”

“Not exactly,” Frankie said. “But thanks for trying, Liza.”

She gave a wave, and another scrutinizing look at Elliott, which Frankie imagined he was used to, though Liza wasn’t exactly salivating; she was more curious than anything. “Nice to meet, you Elliott Becker.” She said his name slowly, as if trying to place it or remember it for later.

With a final nod, he gave Frankie a nudge forward. “Let’s go celebrate.”

She eyed him. “Celebrate what? The brick wall I just ran into?”

He shrugged quickly. “Well, my business situation went well.”

“I guess one of us should be happy.” The weird thing was, despite the frustrations of the last few hours, she felt oddly happy right here on his arm.
 

That was weird, wasn’t it?

Chapter Seven

“I don’t believe it.” Frankie stood with her hands perched on her hips, turning once to survey the plush, high-end villa, called Rockrose. Tucked into a garden and looking out over the aquamarine waters and pure white sands of Barefoot Bay, this one-bedroom vacation home was private, expensive, and perfectly appointed.

“You don’t believe what?” Elliott asked as he joined her.

“That you would willingly choose to sleep on hay in a goat shelter when you are paying God knows what for this place.”

He laughed.
 
“I told you I’m eccentric.”

“Or nuts.”

“A little of both. Wait here, I’m going to get some stuff.” He headed to the back, presumably the bedroom, giving her a moment to inspect the luxurious furnishings and finishings. Light, tropical fabrics accented the dramatic Moroccan-style architecture of the whole resort, with rich wood floors leading to a pool and patio. But it was the front veranda and the water view that captivated Frankie, so she stepped back outside to lean against the rail and drink in nature’s finest work.
 

At the sound of male laughter on the beach, she spotted two men, both tall and shirtless, talking as they walked up the beach, straight toward the villa. Speaking of nature’s finest work. Both great-looking, both built to break hearts, they got closer and Frankie couldn’t decide which one was easier on the eyes.

Might have been a tie.

She zeroed in on the man on the left, his chestnut hair and square jaw so familiar, she couldn’t resist squinting to get a better look. He laughed and made a gesture, and even that seemed like something she’d seen before.
 

They glanced at the villa then, and both men slowed their steps as they noticed her.

“Holy shit,” she whispered, recognizing the man on the left. “That’s Nathaniel Ivory.”

Behind her, Elliott stepped onto the veranda. “Holy shit is right. What the hell do they want?”

“You know him?” She wanted to turn to see Elliott’s face, but didn’t want to miss a minute of “Naughty Nate.” Shirtless, no less.
 

“Yeah, I know him.”

“Dang, I left my phone in the car. I want to get a picture.”

He choked softly. “To sell to the tabloids for fifty grand? Thought you didn’t care about money, Frankie.”

“Who said anything about selling it?” she teased.

He was next to her in an instant, but both men lifted their hands in greeting.

“Nice of you to show up, Becker,” Nate called.

“You really
do
know him.” She couldn’t keep the awe out of her voice, which earned her a dark look.

“He’s not your type.”

She bit back a smile and looked at Nate again. “Oh, honey, Naughty Nate is everyone’s type.”

He mumbled a curse and practically leapt off the veranda, heading them off as they came closer.
 

“I want to meet him,” she called playfully.

Elliott purposely ignored that, and Frankie didn’t know what gave her more of a secret thrill—that he was jealous or that she was about to meet the equivalent of American royalty. The Ivory name was synonymous with power, money, and juicy scandals. With hands in every business and half of Hollywood and a lot of Congress, there was an Ivory on the front page of the news regularly.

Out of earshot, the three of them talked for a minute, then Nate and the other man gave her friendly waves. Frankie took that as an invitation and joined them on the paved path that separated the house from the beach.

“These are some friends of mine, Frankie,” Elliott said, gesturing to the men. “Zeke Nicholas and Nate Ivory.”

She looked from one to the other while she shook hands, politely not ogling their chests, but still stealing a few peeks.

“So this is who has Becker’s full attention this week,” Nate said, giving her a world-famous once-over that had made millions of women swoon. Oddly, it had no effect, but that might have been because Becker held his own with these two men.
 

“It seems he has a strange desire to be around goats,” she told them.

Both men could barely hide their amusement. “I think it has a lot more to do with the goatherd than the herd of goats,” Zeke said, grinning at her.

The statement did crazy things to her insides, far more than Nate Ivory’s flirtatious wink that said he agreed.
 

“So, what brings you here?” she asked.
 

“It’s a...baseball thing,” Nate said.

“Softball, actually,” Elliott corrected him. “We’re all on the same softball team.”

“Really?” Well, it certainly made sense that they were athletes with those bodies. “That must be fun to watch.” For any female with a pulse. “Are you planning to play while you’re all here? I’d love to see a game.”

“No,” Elliott said quickly. “We’re not, we’re—”

“Bad,” Zeke added. “Not pretty to watch.”

She smiled up at him. “I doubt that.”

“What are you two talking about?” Nate asked. “The Niners are fantastic to watch.”

“The Niners? That’s your team?” Frankie shifted her gaze to Becker, who looked more than a little uncomfortable. Was he jealous of these guys? That seemed a little preposterous, but something was bugging him.

“Yeah,” Zeke answered. “The Niners.”

“What does the name mean?” Frankie asked.

They all shared a look and a silent communication that she couldn’t decipher.
 

“It means...” Nate dragged out the words.

“Nine on a team?” she guessed.

“Zeroes,” Becker finally said. “Net worth.”

It took a few seconds for that to register, then she understood those nine zeroes meant a billion. “All of you?”

“More or less,” Elliott said. “So now I’m sure you don’t want to see us play.”

Because she’d made her feelings about billionaires clear enough to him. She gave an easy shrug. “Might still be fun.”

Elliott put a hand on her shoulder and started to steer her away. “Great to see you guys. I’ll try and catch lunch in the next couple of days, but I’m really busy.”

“On the farm,” Nate said, fighting amusement.

“With the goats,” Zeke added, equally entertained by the thought.

“And the goatherd who is obviously a helluva lot better looking than you two clowns.” He whisked her away, calling over his shoulder, “We’ll be in my villa. Read the sign: Do not disturb.”

He sure seemed anxious to get her away from them. Or at least...alone in the villa.
 

* * *

Elliott wasted little time throwing the rest of what he needed in his bag, making sure Zeke and Nate were gone. He’d warned them off any mention of the baseball stadium, but the chance of letting something slip worried him. Plus, witnessing Nate flirt with Frankie irked the crap out of him.

She was...his. At the moment, anyway.
 

“This place is really amazing,” she said as he came out of the bedroom with his bag.

“As you said, it beats the double-wide.” He gave her a wink. “Anytime you want to move over here, I’m game.”

She angled her head and gave him a
get real
look. “I’d like to see more of the resort, though. Especially because I have a meeting with the spa manager this week. Can you give me a tour?”

He’d risk running into Nate and Zeke again, but it beat goat work. “Sure.”

An hour later, Elliott snagged a picnic lunch from the restaurant and persuaded Frankie to walk to the nearby harbor, where they settled on a wide, whitewashed dock to enjoy the afternoon sunshine. It was warm enough that Frankie slipped off the sweater she wore over a strapless sundress, revealing shapely bare shoulders and a surprising sneak peek of cleavage.

He couldn’t help admiring the lovely picture she made as she leaned back on her hands and lifted her face to the sun which, despite being February, was quite warm.