Scandal on the Sand (The Billionaires of Barefoot Bay #3)(26)
Author: Roxanne St. Claire

* * *

After he situated Liza in his sister’s favorite stateroom and showed her that she had everything she needed to shower, relax, and change for dinner once they were underway for the return trip, Nate retreated to his own suite to think.

Except, somewhere in Key West, he’d stopped thinking and started feeling. Feeling something he was not familiar with: inadequacy.

No woman ever made him feel that way. Of course, he’d spent his life with women who were exactly like he was—cocky, arrogant, draped in the trappings of wealth, which covered a multitude of sins.

Sins that he so badly wanted to erase. So what did this little sojourn down to the Keys do? Magnify them. Increase the likelihood of more of those transgressions coming to light. Make him even more ashamed of how he’d lived, what he’d done, and what stupid, dumb decisions he’d made in the past.

When Liza saw that sex tape—which he had no doubt that little prick would find and sell to the highest bidder—she’d be disgusted by him. And for the love of all that was holy, he did not understand why that bothered him so much, but it did.

Almost as much as what he had to do next. But he had no choice. There was a way of doing things in his family—the Ivory way—and he knew exactly what had to be done. Scandals, problems, issues, and any kind of thing the Colonel called “whitewater” had to be dealt with inside so they presented a unified front to the outside. There was no getting around that.

Even just dialing the number made him feel better, getting this off his chest, and into the hands of a person who would know what to do.

The butler answered the phone, as he always had and always would. “Colonel and Mrs. Ivory’s residence, how may I assist you?”

“Greetings, Emile. It’s Nate.”

“Hello, Mr. Ivory. How can I direct your call?”

“I need to speak with the Colonel, please. Is he available?”

“Let me check, sir.”

Of course, the old man kept him on hold for nearly three minutes, giving Nate enough time to rehearse what he was going to say. How he’d cushion the blow and try to minimize the damage control.

God knew, it wasn’t the first time they’d had a call like this.

But he so badly wanted it to be the last.

“Did you change your mind? Are you coming to dinner tomorrow night?”

Nate sighed into the phone, and all his cushioning and control evaporated. With the Colonel, there was only the truth. “I got a problem, sir. I need to give you a heads-up on something.”

He heard the grunt of disgust and disapproval on the other end. Or maybe that was the old man settling into his leather chair, bracing for his grandson’s latest debacle. Either way, Nate told him everything. Including his deep-seated suspicions that Jeff Munson might not be telling the truth…about anything.

* * *

Liza turned in front of the full-length mirror in a walk-in closet the size of her bedroom at home and admired the final results. She might feel like she didn’t belong in the queen’s velvet and marble stateroom, but she had to admit, she looked the part.

Of course, there were no “everyday” clothes to be found. No simple skirt or T-shirt or casual white pants. And almost everything looked brand new, some still bearing a silk ribbon with a designer’s name signed in ink.

Which meant…the closet was full of original couture.

The least-formal thing she found was a sleeveless white sundress that fell to her ankles in soft waves of linen and lace, fitting a little tightly in the bodice, but loose over her hips and waist. She’d dipped into the cosmetics drawer in the bathroom, applying some makeup to accentuate her eyes because…well, face it, because Nate obviously liked her eyes.

In fact, based on that kiss in the cab, he liked more than that.

The thought stilled her, making her nibble on her lip and consider what that meant. It meant a dizzying amount of female hormones rushed through her, which was pathetic but undeniable. And it meant that—

“Liza?”

The tap on her stateroom door made her abandon her thoughts to pad barefoot across the creamy carpet to open the door. And somehow manage not too swoon.

“A tux?”

He grinned. “For dinner on N’Vidrio with a gorgeous woman?”

“You look”—unfairly hot—”formal.”

“I’m sure I’ll take the jacket off and lose the tie after dinner.” He stepped back and took a moment to look her up and down, smiling in approval.  “You’re stunning, Liza.”

Self-conscious, she brushed the soft fabric. “Please thank your sister for letting me borrow her dress.” She leaned forward to playfully whisper, “I think it was made expressly for her.”

“Then it’s a shame you look better in it. In fact, keep it. She’ll never miss it, and you look amazing.”

Liza held out her bare foot. “We don’t wear the same size shoe, and I couldn’t bear to ruin this pretty dress with those sandals I had on all day. I feel a little…underdressed.”

“No need.” He toed off the black loafers he wore and slipped off his socks to reveal his own bare feet. Which were as ridiculously attractive as the rest of him. Oh, Liza. This is bad.

“Now we’re even.” He kicked the shoes into the room, then took her hand, tucking her closer.

“You feeling okay?” he asked as they followed a teak-floored hallway to the other side of the yacht.

“I’m fine,” she said. “How about you?”

He gave her a wide, unexpected smile. “I’m really good.”

“Not worried anymore?”

He lifted a shoulder. “What does worry get me? I’d rather enjoy this trip home with you. Here we go.”

He opened the door to a private dining room with a small table set for two surrounded by rich mahogany and gleaming glass and about fifty flickering candles all around the room.

“At the risk of repeating myself…wow.”

“This is where I eat when I’m alone.”

She glanced up at him. “And how often is that?”

“Lately? More often than you think. Come on and enjoy the view.”

The sliding doors were open to a spacious side deck, looking right out to the sea. The sun had set, leaving the sky a haunting shade of violet and the water near-black. The longer she looked up, the more stars she saw in the heavens, along with a nearly full moon that bathed them in soft white light.

“Pretty romantic setting,” she mused as they walked to the railing.