Seduction on the Sand (The Billionaires of Barefoot Bay #2)(11)

“Come on, Frankie. I really want to know more about this...goat life. I’ve been reading all about goats, all night. They’re really quite a huge business and fantastic pets. I’ve been thinking about”—his gaze moved to the pen—“Ruffles. And...” He lifted his hand as if he were going to touch her, then dropped it, catching himself. “You.”

Don’t do it, hormones. Don’t listen. Don’t react. Don’t go surging into high gear.

“Don’t shake your head,” he said. “You know the attraction is there.”

“You’re attracted to Ruffles?”

He laughed. “You can’t deny it.”

No, she couldn’t. “All the more reason for you not to be here for a week.” As if she actually needed a reason. But the idea...oh, Lord. Why did the idea appeal to her? Was she that lonely out here?

Yes.

“I won’t bother you, Frankie, I swear.”

“Too late for that.”

“And I won’t sleep...near you.”

“Have you seen my lavish accommodations?” She gestured toward the trailer. “One bedroom and a lumpy sofa in the living room.”

Undaunted, he looked around. “I’ll sleep in the barn.”

“It’s not a...” She closed her eyes, hating the thoughts that played at the corners of her mind.

“You wouldn’t have to be alone when creepy lawyers and other people who want this place come circling like vultures.” His enthusiasm was infectious, she had to give him that.

And he was dead-on about the vultures. He’d surely get rid of them.

“And you wouldn’t be lonely.”

“I’m not...” She swallowed the lie. “I have plenty of company with seven goats and two dogs.”

“And a lot to do. I’d be happy to help.”

She had to laugh. “Why do I think goat’s milk soap-making is not your forte?”

“Is that what you do here?”

“This week, I will be.”

“I can help you make soap. I know a lot about soap. I use soap every day.”

She didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or beg for mercy. What had she done to deserve this?

“You can’t handle a farm, Becker. It takes...experience.”

“Says the woman who’s been here for eighty-one days.”

“Eighty-two, and I lived here when I was a kid.”

“You’re still not safe out here alone, and you know it.”

“Please.” She waved him off, along with the sense that he was right. “I have a .22 rifle, and I am not afraid to use it.”

He snorted. “That’ll get the evil squirrels, Annie Oakley.”

“It could stop someone.”

“Didn’t stop me.”

Damn it, he was right about that. “Well, something has to.” She managed to get by him, powering straight for the trailer door. She pulled it open, aware he’d followed.

“And you don’t even lock your door,” he chastised.

On the top step, she whipped around, a little taller than he was now. She used the advantage to glare down her nose. “I will from now on. Goodbye, Becker.”



Ozzie barked, loud and sharp, making his displeasure at the word goodbye clear.

“She doesn’t want me to leave.”

“Yes, he does.”

He exhaled and shook his head. “Clearly, I need lessons on farm management and...and animal husbandry.”

“Science,” she corrected. “It’s known as animal science, and I have a degree in it.”

“Which will make you an excellent teacher.”

Ozzie kicked it up to a deafening yelp, no doubt loving this idea.

“Oh!” She blew out pure exasperation, at him, at Ozzie’s relentless barking, at the situation. “Come on in,” she said, holding the door open.

“Nice work, partner.” He scooped up the little terrier and followed Frankie in so fast, she could feel the warmth of him at her back.

“It’s an invitation to come in, not sleep here.”

She closed her eyes and turned one way and then the other, the tiny trailer closing in. Or maybe that was him, six feet of unstoppable testosterone and determination who’d just filled it. She moved a few steps into the tiny kitchen, flipping on the faucet to quench an inexplicably dry throat.

“So what’s your real game, Becker?” she asked as she reached for a glass. “You think you can distract me or change my mind somehow? You make a bet with someone that you could spend a week with me and get my land?” She turned and caught him looking at the dog in his arms, wide-eyed like they shared a secret.

Like she’d just hit the nail on the proverbial head. “Did you?” she demanded.

“No.” He stroked Ozzie, shifting his attention from the dog to her. “I really am intrigued by...this.

And you. And I think you shouldn’t be alone until you...you figure out what you’re going to do with this place.”

She frowned at him. “I’ve got it all figured out. And no other buyer figures into it.”

He nodded, still stroking Ozzie. She refused to look at his hands. Hands that could...oh, boy. She took a deep drink of water.