Seduction on the Sand (The Billionaires of Barefoot Bay #2)(8)

“How long ago did he die?” he asked.

She stopped milking for a moment, closing her eyes. “Eighty-one days.” The pain in her voice was undeniable.

“Oh, wow. Really sorry.” And this time, he meant it. But he couldn’t help assessing the situation with this new information. She’d been here only since he’d died, which could mean she had no idea if that will was real or not. “Were you close to him?”

“Not close enough,” she murmured, inching closer to her goat.

“But you are his next of kin? Or would that be one of your parents?”

“My parents are both dead,” she said quietly. “And I was Nonno’s only relative, so the land belongs to me.” She finished this goat and turned to Elliott. “It’s a very clear-cut law in Florida when a person doesn’t leave a will. I’ve already looked into it and talked to the County Clerk when I moved back here. That guy, that lawyer? He’s a fraud.”

But if Island Management really did own this piece of property, that’s who Elliott needed to be doing business with, not the gorgeous goat girl. Sad, but true.

“You know,” he said softly, trying to lessen the blow of the truth. “Your, uh, Nonno wouldn’t be the first elderly citizen to get scammed when they were sick, dying, and had no will.”

She closed her eyes with just enough misery for him to know he’d hit the mark. “That lawyer’s just more imaginative than the other people who want this land. My property is desirable, as you obviously know.” She stripped the gloves off slowly. “What are your plans for it? Hotel? Condos?



Planned retirement community?”

Worse. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that she’d hate what he and his partners were planning. A minor-league baseball complex? No, that would never fly. And if the lawyer was a fraud, Elliott would still have to buy the property from this lady who would no doubt recoil when she found out her little goat farm would be turned into an access road and parking lot.

“Don’t tell me,” she said with a laugh when he didn’t reply. “You’re an eccentric, unhappy, lost, and lonely billionaire who has decided to reconnect with Mother Earth and wants to live on a working farm.”

Bingo. Answer supplied. “How’d you know?” He managed to keep all humor out of his voice, earning a surprised look from her.

“Seriously?”

“Well, all except for the lonely part. I can usually scare up a date.”

She rolled her eyes. “I bet you get plenty lucky.”

“I told you, I am—”

“Lucky, yeah, I got that a few times. But I’m not—”

“Selling, yeah, I got that a few times, too.” He pushed off the bench, impatience growing. Maybe she was just hardballing for the best offer. It’s what he’d do. “I want the place,” he said, leaving no room for argument. “I’ll double your best offer.”

“No, thank you.” She stood, shoulders square, eyes narrowed, feet apart. Damn, she looked good mad. “I am not interested in money.”

“Then how about I put that entire amount, and another few million, into...” What would be her soft spot? Something with animals. “Your favorite...goat charity.”

“A goat charity?”

“Don’t tell me, that’s the wrong word. Shoot, I’m trying to make this painless for you, Frankie.”

“Painless? Painless?” She took a step forward, as if she were about to induce some pain of her own. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, cowboy. The pain happened when the only family I had left died in my arms. You’re just an...an...” She swatted the air like a fly had buzzed her. “An annoyance.”

“I’m sorry about your grandfather, Frankie.”

She glared at him. “Here’s what you should be sorry about, Becker. I made my grandfather a promise. This land, these twenty measly acres of scrub and swamp, is going to stay in this family no matter what. And I will raise goats and make milk and soap and cheese for as long as I’m capable of it because that’s what he wanted. Do you know what a deathbed promise is?”

One based entirely on emotion, which was just stupid when it came to land. “One you won’t break.”

“Finally, something you know.” She blew out a breath like she’d been holding it for ten minutes, ignoring the next two goats bleating for their turn on the table. “Trust me when I say that no amount of money is going to take this land out of the family. No amount. So do us both a favor and leave.” She pointed to the door and held the position for a good fifteen seconds.

He could change her mind. With sweet talk and a few promises of his own. He knew his power with women. But why bother? If the lawyer had a will, then, in nine days, the lawyer would have a deed. Becker’s business wasn’t with this woman, no matter how attractive she was. They needed her land to build his dreams.

“I’ll show myself out,” he said, stepping away and to the door.

Outside, the late daylight had faded, and twilight had descended over the goat pen. He kept an eye on the grass and dirt in case he might step in literal shit instead of the stuff he’d just walked away from.

He stole a look over his shoulder, a little disgusted at just how much he wanted her to be standing in the doorway, calling him back, asking for help. Which was moronic. She couldn’t have made her aversion to him any clearer.