Barefoot Bay: Silhouettes on the Sand (Kindle Worlds Novella) (7 page)

"I hope you find the room satisfactory." A young woman with a slight accent smiled up at her. "I'm Rosa, the maid. If you need anything, dial nine to call me. My room is off the kitchen so you have much privacy."

"Thank you. I'm sure I'll be fine." She wouldn't have the first clue what to ask a maid to do for her.

"Very well. Mr. Ivory has asked for lemonade on the terrace. I will go now and take care of that."

C.J. bobbed her head. Lemonade on the terrace. She had a feeling the lemonade wasn't made with crystals from a packet, but that Rosa would be downstairs squeezing lemons the old-fashioned way.

"Any problems?" This time the voice in the doorway belonged to Chase.

"No. It's fine, but I still don't need the master."

"We won't be here very much anyhow. I've asked Rosa to serve lemonade on the terrace, but I'm afraid I have to head to the
N'Vidrio
and my laptop. Once I take care of a few details, I'll be back with my things. Will you be all right on your own?"

"Of course." She'd been taking care of herself and everyone around her for a hell of a long time; she could certainly handle herself for one afternoon. Even if she did feel like a bull in a china shop.

"If you want company, Beth has already moved into her villa. My brothers are off playing tennis with Nate's friend Elliott, but they should all be moving onto the property soon too."

"Sounds good." She nodded.

He bobbed his head back at her, but neither made a move. She thought for a second his attention had darted over her shoulder to the bed behind her, but he blinked and instead focused on her. "Well"—he cleared his throat, his gaze lingering on hers—"I should get going."

All she could do was nod again. How ridiculous was it that she didn't want him to leave. She'd known this man less than twenty-four hours and, in the grand scheme of things, knew next to nothing about him, and yet a part of her missed him.

Tapping his hand on the door jamb, he took a step back. "I won't be long."

She opted not to follow him out of the room. Instead she waited until she heard the door downstairs click shut and wondered what in the hell was happening to her?

* * *

The call from Chase's office had caught him off guard. Beth was right; the last few years he'd eased away from social responsibilities, leaving any representation of the Ivory name at galas, charities, and fund-raisers to his siblings. Instead he tied himself to board meetings, factory inspections, OSHA committees, and the occasional golf game if it meant closing another deal. Except the last two days he'd been so wrapped up bringing C.J. into his world, he'd forgotten about today's scheduled videoconferences.

"Hey, bro." Nate waved from a side path. "Where you off to in such a hurry?"

"Back to the
N'Vidrio
. Have a videoconference with the chief engineers at the new Honolulu project." He flipped his wrist. "Ten minutes ago."

"Use my office. It's just on the other side of the tennis courts." Nate waved a thumb over his shoulder, then turned to his brothers and friend. "You guys don't mind taking a five-minute detour? Or you can start the game without me."

Elliott Becker shrugged. "Nah, I can wait a few minutes to beat your ass."

"In your dreams," Nate shot back.

Shaking his head, Elliott turned to Chase. "Your brother Nate is delusional."

"So I've been told." He laughed, falling in step next to one of Nate's best friends.

"More like deliriously happy," Nate yelled over his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah," Greg called back. "You're all poster boys for matrimonial bliss."

Nate smacked Greg's shoulder. "Don't knock it till you've tried it."

"No thank you." Greg shook his head, waving his hands.

"You'd better be careful," Elliott told Greg. "There's something in the air in Barefoot Bay. Arrive single and fall for the love of your life."

"Just ’cause you two got suckered in—"

"Three," Nate and Elliott echoed.

"Don't forget Zeke," Nate added.

"Ignore them," Chase chimed in.

"Hey, I wouldn't talk if I were you." Nate turned off the main path to his office but kept one eye on Chase. "Just remember, Zeke had a high-school-friend-turned-hotel-maid play his girlfriend at a reunion, and he was the first to fall."

"And hard," Elliott added. "They're not only sappily married but Mandy is expecting their first kid."

"Wait a minute." Nate stopped and opened the wooden door of the villa he'd been using as an office, then turned to Elliott. "I didn't hear that."

"Sorry, man. You were out with your brothers. They broke the good news at Garret Flynn's barbecue."

"That's fantastic." Nate flipped the light switch. "Here you go, bro. Anything you want. Password for the computer is Niners."

"Got it." Chase stepped over to the desk. "You guys have a good game."

"Will do." Pulling the door shut, Nate popped his head in at the last second. "And don't forget about Zeke. You better watch yourself, big brother, or you may be next."

Walking along the shoreline, C.J. had to admit that whoever designed the Casa Blanca Resort and Spa certainly had the concept of comfort and luxury down pat. Add the gorgeous backdrop of Barefoot Bay and she was hard-pressed to think of a better place to decompress. So why was she still feeling wound tighter than a steel guitar string?

"There you are."

The unexpected male voice so close startled her. Instinctively she spun about to plant her elbow in somebody’s solar plexus, grabbing hold of an arm, she caught a glimpse of Chase’s face before fully executing her move. She hadn't expected him to be done with his appointments so quickly. Shifting her weight awkwardly in a last-ditch effort to avoid knocking him on his ass, she stumbled back, her feet sliding out from under her. Blowing out a breath, she braced to land hard on her back, only to feel strong hands slide under her and pull her into a twist of arms and legs before she landed like a lead weight on one Chase Ivory.

It took a second for Chase to catch his breath. Staring up at her through slitted eyes, he muttered, "You okay?"

"I was about to ask you that."

"I didn't mean to startle you."

"I didn't mean to take you down either."

Chase blinked up at the sun, sucked in a deep breath, then lowered his lashes to settle his gaze on her. "What is it you do for a living anyhow?"

"I'm a nurse." One who didn't need to have studied biology to recognize the perfect alignment of male and female parts—on a public beach.

"Where? The South Bronx?

"Close." She didn't want to go there. Especially not now. Instead she drew on what little common sense she might still have and shoved up and over, settling beside him on her back, staring up at the blue sky. "I'm sorry."

Chase rolled to his side and, propping himself on one elbow, stared down at her. "Who are you, Cassandra Jane Lawson?"

She didn't get a chance to answer. Before she could even contemplate how to address the question, her mind went utterly and completely blank from the very first second his lips pressed gently against hers. If she was looking for a way to lose herself, and her mind, she'd found it. No hands. No body heat. No physical contact of any kind except the hard and soft pressure of mouth to glorious mouth. And then, just as unexpectedly as he'd started, Chase pulled away, her lips almost trembling from the loss. God, how she wanted to do that again—and so much more.

Still leaning over her, Chase scanned her face from forehead to chin, pausing briefly at her eyes and again on her mouth. The fire in his eyes as he stared at her still-tingling lips told her that he didn't want to stop any more than she had. "There's been a change in plans for dinner."

Her heart skipped an anxious beat. Were they about to renegotiate their deal?

"Nate's hosting a small celebration dinner on the
N’Vidrio
."

"Don't they have enough wedding parties planned?"

He still hadn't moved his laser focus from her eyes. Almost like, if he looked at her lips, their evening would be spent right here on the beach—the public be damned. "This isn't about the wedding. One of his best friends is having a baby, and Nate and Liza missed the big announcement. They want to be part of the good news. I didn't have the heart to say no."

"How many people is a
small
gathering?" Under the circumstances it was a rather ridiculous question, but she wasn't sure she was up to an Ivory-caliber performance tonight.

"The expectant parents Zeke and Mandy. Another partner in the Barefoot Bay Bucks, Elliott Becker and his wife, Frankie. And of course my siblings. I don't think Beth is bringing her date."

C.J. did the math in her head: eleven. And she already knew the siblings. Maybe tonight wouldn't be much of a big deal.

Chase shoved to his knees and pushed to his feet, extending his hand to her. Almost afraid of the contact, she wove her fingers with his and sprang upward and practically slammed into his chest. Standing so close together in the setting sun, they cast a single silhouette on the sand.

Shaking his head, he broke his hold on her. "We need to dust this sand off and head to Nate's."

She nodded agreement, torn between needing to clear her mind to figure out what the hell was going on and dumping all common sense to hash out new terms right this very minute. After she kissed him. But she wasn't like her sister. This was a business arrangement. Rules and working in good order was how she lived her life. She would not toss aside all good sense. "We'd better get this show on the road." As long as they could perform their roles more than ten feet apart from each other, everything would be just fine. And, if she believed that, maybe it was time to start selling beachfront property in Vegas.

* * *

Somewhere in the back of her mind the words
yacht
and
luxury
went side by side but never had she expected to walk aboard the
N’Vidrio
and find it as big and opulent as the
Titanic
. The boat even came with its own helicopter. Every place Chase took her was more extravagant than the one before. Creamy leather and brightly polished wood or marble covered every surface, depending on whether it was meant for sitting, standing, or serving on. C.J. really hoped her eyes weren't bugging out of her head. This was so not her world. From the second she and Chase had stepped from his brother's car, and she looked across the bay to where the boat was anchored, she couldn't think of a thing to say. Over a hundred feet long and four floors high, the damn thing really did feel as big as the
Titanic
, and she hoped a hell of a lot more seaworthy. Hell, the cabin cruiser used to transport them to the real boat was bigger than most apartments she'd lived in. Now standing at the bar in the upper deck lounge, she had yet to sit on the pretty leather furniture. She felt much too much like an interloper.

"In honor of the mom-to-be, we've got apple cider or ginger ale." Bartending, Chase's brother Nate waved his hands across an array of different bottles and glasses to choose from.

"Ginger ale, please." She hesitantly accepted the glass. Not ordinary glass. Etched crystal. On a boat. How much money did these people have? "Thank you."

Nate glanced around, spotting Chase and his other brothers huddled at the opposite side of the surprisingly large lounge. "How you holding up so far?"

"Fine. Thank you." She lied. With a bunch of rebel-rousing marines she could fit in, but, in this world, making a stupid blunder was way too likely.

"You look like you have something to say and no one to say it to."

Interesting observation. She certainly wouldn't tell the owner of this vessel that it was big enough to transport a battalion of marines. "Your boat is lovely."

He spat out a muffled chuckle. "My fiancée hates it. Says it looks like the
Titanic
."

This time C.J. had to swallow a laugh. If she thought she'd liked Liza before, she really liked her now. "It is rather … impressive."

"That's not the way Liza describes it. As soon as the wedding is over, we're going to do a little redecorating."

"People actually redecorate boats?"

"Think of it as a house on the water. There won't be any major overhauls, but Liza says that cream-colored furniture is not a good choice for a little boy with dirty hands and bright markers."

"She may have a point." Not that C.J. would know. There weren't very many children in the Marine Corps.

"We'll keep the leather because that's best when dealing with water and humidity. Throw one party where everyone comes in with wet swimsuits and towels, and, the next thing you know, your yacht smells like a wet dog. Not optimal for a home away from home."

Looking around at all the people, C.J. noted every last one was dressed in casual clothes that she now knew from experience probably cost more than the monthly budget for some small cities. Even dressed up like one of them, she still felt like a mule in a thoroughbred stable. "I don't understand why you need something so big."