Seduction on the Sand (The Billionaires of Barefoot Bay #2)(17)
Author: Roxanne St. Claire

“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.