Seduction on the Sand (The Billionaires of Barefoot Bay #2)(22)
“With the goats,” Zeke added, equally entertained by the thought.
“And the goatherd who is obviously a helluva lot better looking than you two clowns.” He whisked her away, calling over his shoulder, “We’ll be in my villa. Read the sign: Do not disturb.”
He sure seemed anxious to get her away from them. Or at least...alone in the villa.
* * *
Elliott wasted little time throwing the rest of what he needed in his bag, making sure Zeke and Nate were gone. He’d warned them off any mention of the baseball stadium, but the chance of letting something slip worried him. Plus, witnessing Nate flirt with Frankie irked the crap out of him. She was...his. At the moment, anyway.
“This place is really amazing,” she said as he came out of the bedroom with his bag.
“As you said, it beats the double-wide.” He gave her a wink. “Anytime you want to move over here, I’m game.”
She angled her head and gave him a get real look. “I’d like to see more of the resort, though.
Especially because I have a meeting with the spa manager this week. Can you give me a tour?”
He’d risk running into Nate and Zeke again, but it beat goat work. “Sure.”
An hour later, Elliott snagged a picnic lunch from the restaurant and persuaded Frankie to walk to the nearby harbor, where they settled on a wide, whitewashed dock to enjoy the afternoon sunshine. It was warm enough that Frankie slipped off the sweater she wore over a strapless sundress, revealing shapely bare shoulders and a surprising sneak peek of cleavage.
He couldn’t help admiring the lovely picture she made as she leaned back on her hands and lifted her face to the sun which, despite being February, was quite warm.
“Your friends are funny,” she said. “And that Nate is as good in three dimensions as he looks on the covers of tabloids in two.”
He faked a choke. “And here I thought you were different from most women.”
“I am,” she insisted, taking the cold shrimp he offered. “But I’m still human.”
He looked skyward. “Change the subject.”
“Deal. What do you want to talk about?”
Her land. Besides a deathbed promise, what else was he taking from her? The question had plagued him, and it felt like the right time to ask. “So what exactly are your plans for your grandfather’s farm?”
“It’s my farm now,” she said quickly. “And my plan is to fulfill the vision he’d always had. La Dolce Vita.”
“The Sweet Life.” He’d heard the expression.
“That’s what Nonno called it. He didn’t want to turn it into some big high-tech farm, but he always wanted to see it be a little country store and destination for families. Before Casa Blanca was built, not enough people came to Barefoot Bay to make that a reality, which is part of the reason I fought him on it and wanted to go in a different direction. But now I see the wisdom of his ways, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
Except, she wouldn’t if La Dolce Vita was transformed into an access road and stadium parking.
He swallowed, but the bite lodged in his throat, making him down half a bottle of water while she stared out at the horizon, deep in thought.
“Don’t you feel you’re making his dreams come true and not yours?” he asked.
She considered that, then shook her head. “I’ve wrestled with what to do, but the more I’m there, the more it feels right. I think I’ll build a cute two-story house made of stone like the ones in Italy. I’ll live upstairs, but downstairs would be the retail shop. Something small, you know? I would sell my soaps and milk and cute little goat-related products. I’d have a petting pen and a much nicer milking shed and production area.”
Whoa, these plans were a little further along than he’d realized. “Sounds like you might need some cash to make all that happen.” With cash from the sale of her land, could she build her farm somewhere else? Would that assuage his guilt?
She shrugged. “I told you, I have some money tucked away.”
“But do you have millions?”
She turned from the water to stare hard at him. “You’re still convinced you can buy me.”
“Not you,” he corrected. “But your land.”
“I haven’t dissuaded you from your eccentric farm dreams yet?”
“Absolutely not. And if you had a lot of money, you could make that dream bigger, better, even more beautiful”—he took a breath and leaned closer—“somewhere else.”
“So could you,” she replied. “Why my land?”
Because it was next to the other three plots they’d already secured. Because this location was perfect. Because it was easy, and Elliott liked things to be easy.
Except...he also liked them to be fair.
“Anyway,” she said, unaware of the war of words raging in his head. “Until I settle that issue with the lawyer who claims someone else owns the land, I couldn’t sell it if I wanted to. Second, I don’t want to. And I don’t care if you call me stubborn, since I told you I come by that trait honestly.”
He shook his head, recognizing the impact of a brick wall when he hit it.
He reached for a stray hair and brushed it off her face, studying her strong profile, the little bump on her nose and the thick lashes that brushed her cheek when her eyes were closed. “You’re pretty when you’re stubborn.”