Scandal on the Sand (The Billionaires of Barefoot Bay #3)(30)
Author: Roxanne St. Claire

“Okay.” He pressed a kiss on her head and confessed, “I’ve never done that before.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not. I’ve never completely given someone…that. Not without expecting everything in return.”

She smiled slowly. “You’re right. I bring out the nice in you.”

Holding that thought, they stayed under the awning until the rain showers passed, kissing, whispering, laughing, sharing secrets and, finally, sleeping in each other’s arms until the yacht docked in Naples and they had to say good night.

Chapter Eleven

Liza put the caller on hold and looked over at Nate, lying on the sofa, one leg bent, his head propped on his arm, reading a legal document he had resting on his chest. It would be so easy to climb over the desk that separated them and cuddle up next to him and do what they both wanted to do ever since they set up a temporary office in Acacia, the spacious beachfront villa he’d taken over for the business.

So far, they’d resisted. But…

Heat, familiar and constant and always strong, curled through her at the thought. Of course, she said the only thing she could. “Nate, it’s the county commissioner’s office on line one.”

He turned his head to smile at her. “Calling to say the agenda is finalized?”

“And to invite you to attend the meeting as an honored guest.”

“Probably to thank me for the donation of forty-six new live oak trees for the Naples Parks and Rec Department.” He rolled up, still grinning at her. “Genius idea, Wonder Woman.”

She angled her head, still not quite used to his compliments on her work, even though he’d been doling them out for almost three weeks. “Hey, you wrote the check.”

“But the gesture got us slipped into the County Commissioners’ meeting three months ahead of schedule.”

“I know county weaknesses, it’s true.” She shrugged, indicating the flashing light on the phone bank. “Take the call, do your thing, and when you’re done we can go over the access-road permits.”

He wiggled his eyebrows playfully. “The fun never ends.”

She laughed. “This is fun. Aren’t you having fun?”

He leaned closer. “There’s a beach twenty yards away, a pool in the back of this villa, and a bed the size of a small country in the master suite. All screaming for fun.”

“Hey. We have a deal.” She pointed a finger at his face.

“And I’ve been upholding my end of that deal for twenty days…and nights.”

The fact that he counted did crazy, stupid things to her insides. The wait was nearly over, and she knew it. Longing looks, purposeful touches, and a couple of smoking-hot kisses after-hours and Liza was fairly certain where this “work relationship” was headed.

And she couldn’t think of a single reason not to say yes. “Access-road permits are fun.”

“Okay,” he relented. “And then?”

And then she’d have to pick up Dylan after the children’s program ended. Sighing, she glanced at the clock on her desk. “Take the call, Nate, before they shove us clear into the June meeting.”

He didn’t move, staring so hard it felt like he could see right through to her soul. “You know that middle color in the rainbow?”

She tried to come up with a quip but failed, shaking her head instead, no clue where this was going, only that it would be…nice.

“That kind of magical mix of turquoise and emerald, not quite one, not the other, but still precious and inviting?” He almost closed the space between them, inches away now, the soapy, masculine scent of him tormenting her.

“Yeah?” she managed.

“That’s the color of your eyes.” Closer still. “I could look at them for hours.”

She closed them for a second, almost unable to take the assault when he flirted like that. Was he teasing? Was he serious? Three weeks into the job, and she still couldn’t tell.  Nor could she even remember the mundane and dreary existence that was the County Clerk’s office.

Still, she dug for the professionalism he so loved to tear away. “Take the call, Nate. And remember the county commissioner is named Sandra Hutchings, and she has an inflated ego, a tiny attention span, and a fiery temper.”

“Good to know. God, I’d be lost without you.”

She laughed. “Oh, and she would like to have her picture with you in The Mimosa Times. Don’t keep her waiting.”

“I won’t.” When he turned into the hall to go to the master suite he used to take calls, he stopped and looked back at her. “No one likes to wait too long.” With a wink, he disappeared.

For a moment, she rested her chin on her hands, staring at a half-dozen stacks of papers and two neatly arranged files, all labeled and sorted and ready to be tackled. A sensation of pure satisfaction rolled over her. She loved this job. And she…loved….okay, she was pretty damn fond of her boss, too.

Taking their attraction to each other up a notch—or six—wasn’t a matter of if, it was a matter of when. And where…and how. Oh, she knew how. She’d fantasized about how every day and night since they’d docked his yacht in Naples. First, they’d—

The soft hum of an electric golf cart and the sweet sound of Dylan’s laughter pulled her from her reverie. Having him so close by during the day was certainly a blessing…and a curse. She was never sure when he’d be cruising by on some seashell-gathering adventure or field trip to the gardens. Still, a smile she couldn’t hide broke across her face as she rose from her desk to go to the door.

Late afternoon sunshine poured in, warming her as much as the sight of the boy she loved dearly.

“Aunt Liza!” He practically tumbled out of the cart, followed by his platinum-blond best buddy, Edward Browning.  Eddie’s mother, Tessa, the resort gardener, was at the wheel, climbing down with one hand on a slightly distended belly.

They’d met a few times—enough to know Tessa was the glowingest pregnant woman in history.

“We come bearing requests,” Tessa said in greeting.

“S-L-E-E-P!” Dylan spelled, jumping up and down. He wanted to go to sleep?

“O-V-E-R!” cried his little friend.

Liza laughed, mostly at their high-fiving on the spelling, coming around to greet Tessa. “What’s this about?” she asked.

Tessa’s dark eyes danced as she eyed the two boys. “They’ve cooked up an idea, but we need your permission.”