Scandal on the Sand (The Billionaires of Barefoot Bay #3)(20)
Author: Roxanne St. Claire

He threw up his hands with a soft laugh. “See what I mean?”

“What? What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, and that’s the point. You’re so…efficient. You’re all prepared. You’ve gone through papers. You have names and addresses.”

“That doesn’t make me a rocket scientist.” She laughed but had to admit the compliment warmed her.

“Maybe not, but it would make you a hell of a right-hand…woman.”

“I thought I was going to be the chief unraveler of red tape?”

“You can call yourself CEO if you want.” He took the phone and read the notes. “She worked at a place called Red Suns and Hot Buns?”

“We’re in Key West, my friend. There are lots of suns and buns.”

He just smiled. “Let’s go.”

Both the restaurant and apartment complex were well within walking distance, so a few minutes later, they were navigating the crowds again, with Nate holding her very close and keeping a running commentary in her ear.

That move easily hid his face from people.

It also sent a million chill bumps over Liza’s skin and made her force herself not to turn to him and accidently almost-but-not-quite kiss him again. One woman watched him carefully as they approached, and instantly Nate pulled Liza even closer, pressing his lips against her ear.

“This one’s going to be trouble.”

“How do you know?”

“Experience. Do not make eye contact. That’s like an invitation.”

Liza sneaked a look at her, taking in the dark hair and bangs, khaki shorts and bright yellow T-shirt. “Nothing about her says trouble,” she whispered, but just as they passed her, the woman turned, staring openly.

“Excuse me? Excuse me? Aren’t you—”

Nate held up a hand. “Not now.”

“But, please, you’re Nate—”

“Not now,” he said more forcefully, rushing them forward.

“I have to get your picture, oh my God.” She spun around, looking behind her. “Karen! Karen, get over here.” Her voice rose over the crowd, getting the attention of the closest people.

“Please,” Nate ground out. “I’m on vacation.”

“So am I!” she replied as if he were making small talk. “Oh my sweet fancy Moses, it is you!”

A few more people turned, and Liza could actually feel her own blood start to boil.

“Karen, I need a picture! I have Naughty—”

Liza jumped in front of Nate, right in the woman’s face. “Stop it.”

The lady drew back, her lip curling. “Who are you?”

“His bodyguard. Back off.”

“Liza, you don’t have to—”

She shook off Nate’s touch and powered closer to the lady, nose to nose with her. “And I’m armed to the hilt and so are ten other people around him that you don’t even see right now.”

The woman’s eyes widened, and she glanced to the side.

“Get the hell away from him, and if you take your phone out for a picture, I will give the signal to shoot.”

The other woman sputtered, clearly not sure what to make of a five-foot-four woman making death threats. “I just wanted to…”

Nate put his hand on Liza’s shoulder, easing her back. “We’re okay now.”

The lady looked from one to the other, and Liza stood on her tiptoes and gave the closest thing to a snarl she had in her.

Another woman came running up, breathless, a cup of ice cream in her hand. “What are you screaming about, Joanne? I had to pay for my froyo!”

“That’s—”

Liza inched forward. “Don’t even think about it.”

Joanne held up both her hands, then looked at Nate, her face softening. “Sorry to bother you.”

He took Liza’s hand and tried to tug her away, but she stayed rooted in the spot, using what she knew was a soul-flattening look to slice the woman down. Finally, the two ladies took off, the others around them lost interest, and Liza slipped back under Nate’s arm, both of them rushing through the crowded sidewalk.

He was chuckling, though, tucking her tighter against him. “I was right about you.”

“I’m nuts?” She grinned, the rush of adrenaline still pumping through her.

“You’re Wonder Woman.” He looked down at her, his face so close, but all she could see was her own reflection in his sunglasses. Her eyes were shining, her color high, and her lips parted as if she…

Oh, Lord. Now she wanted to kiss him.

“That was sweet and not necessary and maybe a little dangerous. Don’t do it again.”

“But I saved you and your reputation.”

He grazed her cheek with his finger. “You did something else you shouldn’t have,” he said, his voice low and gruff.

“Lied about being armed? Is that illegal or something?”

He laughed softly. “No.”

“Then what did I do?”

For a long moment, he didn’t answer, then he shook his head, refusing to say.

“What?” she urged. “I don’t want to do it again if I did something wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He smiled at her, then dipped his head to plant a soft kiss on her forehead, making the spot burn. “You made me like you even more.”

Her whole body betrayed her with a splash of heat and hope she really did not want to feel.

* * *

She’d turned him on, damn it. That’s what her little spitfire, protective, fearless bodyguard act did. And the next kiss wasn’t going to be by accident.

Why the hell did he have to meet this woman under such stupid, complicated circumstances?

“There’s the restaurant,” she said, pointing to a bright orange sign that promised Red Suns and Hot Buns.

He led them across the street between a break in traffic, slowing down as a horse and carriage full of tourists trotted past.  A woman in the back caught a glimpse of Nate. She pointed, then poked her partner, who turned, but the buggy moved too fast, and they darted behind it, into the restaurant.

It was late for lunch and early for dinner, but the outdoor bar was in high gear, with all the stools full and the jukebox wailing some Stevie Nicks. Nate led them to a table near the door, where he pulled out a chair for Liza and took the seat that had him facing inside.

In a few moments, a waitress appeared. A very minimally dressed waitress. She wore cutoff white shorts that revealed a third of her backside and a tight bright red crop top with a sunset emblazoned across her double D’s—fake, in his expert opinion. The words Red Suns rolled over her chest, the tops of the letters covered by the ends of her platinum blond hair.