Sins that he so badly wanted to erase. So what did this little sojourn down to the Keys do? Magnify them. Increase the likelihood of more of those transgressions coming to light. Make him even more ashamed of how he’d lived, what he’d done, and what stupid, dumb decisions he’d made in the past.
When Liza saw that sex tape—which he had no doubt that little prick would find and sell to the highest bidder—she’d be disgusted by him. And for the love of all that was holy, he did not understand why that bothered him so much, but it did.
Almost as much as what he had to do next. But he had no choice. There was a way of doing things in his family—the Ivory way—and he knew exactly what had to be done. Scandals, problems, issues, and any kind of thing the Colonel called “whitewater” had to be dealt with inside so they presented a unified front to the outside. There was no getting around that.
Even just dialing the number made him feel better, getting this off his chest, and into the hands of a person who would know what to do.
The butler answered the phone, as he always had and always would. “Colonel and Mrs. Ivory’s residence, how may I assist you?”
“Greetings, Emile. It’s Nate.”
“Hello, Mr. Ivory. How can I direct your call?”
“I need to speak with the Colonel, please. Is he available?”
“Let me check, sir.”
Of course, the old man kept him on hold for nearly three minutes, giving Nate enough time to rehearse what he was going to say. How he’d cushion the blow and try to minimize the damage control.
God knew, it wasn’t the first time they’d had a call like this.
But he so badly wanted it to be the last.
“Did you change your mind? Are you coming to dinner tomorrow night?”
Nate sighed into the phone, and all his cushioning and control evaporated. With the Colonel, there was only the truth. “I got a problem, sir. I need to give you a heads-up on something.”
He heard the grunt of disgust and disapproval on the other end. Or maybe that was the old man settling into his leather chair, bracing for his grandson’s latest debacle. Either way, Nate told him everything. Including his deep-seated suspicions that Jeff Munson might not be telling the truth...about anything.
* * *
Liza turned in front of the full-length mirror in a walk-in closet the size of her bedroom at home and admired the final results. She might feel like she didn’t belong in the queen’s velvet and marble stateroom, but she had to admit, she looked the part.
Of course, there were no “everyday” clothes to be found. No simple skirt or T-shirt or casual white pants. And almost everything looked brand new, some still bearing a silk ribbon with a designer’s name signed in ink.
Which meant…the closet was full of original couture.
The least-formal thing she found was a sleeveless white sundress that fell to her ankles in soft waves of linen and lace, fitting a little tightly in the bodice, but loose over her hips and waist. She’d dipped into the cosmetics drawer in the bathroom, applying some makeup to accentuate her eyes because...well, face it, because Nate obviously liked her eyes.
In fact, based on that kiss in the cab, he liked more than that.
The thought stilled her, making her nibble on her lip and consider what that meant. It meant a dizzying amount of female hormones rushed through her, which was pathetic but undeniable. And it meant that—
“Liza?”
The tap on her stateroom door made her abandon her thoughts to pad barefoot across the creamy carpet to open the door. And somehow manage not too swoon.
“A tux?”
He grinned. “For dinner on N’Vidrio with a gorgeous woman?”
“You look”—unfairly hot—”formal.”
“I’m sure I’ll take the jacket off and lose the tie after dinner.” He stepped back and took a moment to look her up and down, smiling in approval. “You’re stunning, Liza.”
Self-conscious, she brushed the soft fabric. “Please thank your sister for letting me borrow her dress.” She leaned forward to playfully whisper, “I think it was made expressly for her.”
“Then it’s a shame you look better in it. In fact, keep it. She’ll never miss it, and you look amazing.”
Liza held out her bare foot. “We don’t wear the same size shoe, and I couldn’t bear to ruin this pretty dress with those sandals I had on all day. I feel a little...underdressed.”
“No need.” He toed off the black loafers he wore and slipped off his socks to reveal his own bare feet. Which were as ridiculously attractive as the rest of him. Oh, Liza. This is bad.
“Now we’re even.” He kicked the shoes into the room, then took her hand, tucking her closer.
“You feeling okay?” he asked as they followed a teak-floored hallway to the other side of the yacht.
“I’m fine,” she said. “How about you?”
He gave her a wide, unexpected smile. “I’m really good.”
“Not worried anymore?”
He lifted a shoulder. “What does worry get me? I’d rather enjoy this trip home with you. Here we go.”
He opened the door to a private dining room with a small table set for two surrounded by rich mahogany and gleaming glass and about fifty flickering candles all around the room.
“At the risk of repeating myself...wow.”
“This is where I eat when I’m alone.”
She glanced up at him. “And how often is that?”
“Lately? More often than you think. Come on and enjoy the view.”
The sliding doors were open to a spacious side deck, looking right out to the sea. The sun had set, leaving the sky a haunting shade of violet and the water near-black. The longer she looked up, the more stars she saw in the heavens, along with a nearly full moon that bathed them in soft white light.
“Pretty romantic setting,” she mused as they walked to the railing.
“I have it on good authority that it’ll be raining in a few hours, so we should take advantage of the clear skies. What would you like to drink?”
“Surprise me.”
He stepped away and picked up a phone in the dining room, spoke softly, then came back outside, standing right behind her.
“I want to ask you a question, Liza.” His voice was low and close to her ear, giving her chills.
“Okay.”
He ran his hands up her bare arms. “Are you cold?”
“No. Is that the question?”
He laughed softly. “No.” With his hands on her shoulders, he slowly turned her from the stunning view to face him. Which was another stunning view. “Are you satisfied with what we found out today?”
She frowned. “Satisfied?”
“Do you believe that I’m not Dylan’s father?”
“Yes,” she said. “After thinking about it for the past two hours, I believe that Carrie must have had one hell of an imagination and maybe tried to make her boyfriend jealous or...I don’t know. Don’t you?”
“I want to put it behind us.”
Us. The word made her whole body feel light. “So I can work for you and this issue won’t always be there?” Because surely that’s what he meant.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “And so when I kiss you tonight, you won’t be thinking about my past, especially with her.”
She didn’t know what made her dizzier—the fact that he was going to kiss her or the fact that he had no doubt he was going to kiss her. She lifted a brow. “Will you?”
“Kiss you or think about her?” He pulled her closer. “I’ll answer one of those questions easily.” He kissed her on the mouth, a steady, strong, serious kiss that was somehow different from what they’d shared in the cab.
“Nate?” she whispered into his mouth.
“Hmm?”
“Is kissing you going to be part of this job you’re offering?”
“Actually, we have a strict kissing-is-allowed policy, so...” He kissed her on the nose, lightly. “Yes.”
&n
bsp; Before she could answer, a steward tapped on the dining room door. “Hold that thought,” Nate said, stepping away.
She leaned on the railing, facing the twilight sky and navy blue water, her lips still tingling from the contact. Her whole body, in fact, was humming pretty hard from her head down to her bare toes.
Nate came up behind her again, reaching around to offer a crystal martini glass with clear liquid. With the dimming light behind it, she could see every cut in the glass, which refracted the light like a diamond.
“Another house special?” she asked.
“Just a simple dry martini, but the glass is a family secret.”
She took the drink, a little surprised at how heavy the crystal was. “I thought Ivory Glass was the tempered stuff that went into skyscrapers.”
He gestured toward a wide leather sofa. “That’s true and certainly how my grandfather made the fortune. But we also have some very small and exclusive lines of glass and crystal that are really more for personal use and to give as gifts. There’s actual diamond dust blown into the glass.” He toasted her. “And you may keep yours.”
She laughed. “Thank you. It’s like I get to keep everything I touch on this yacht.” Except him. She couldn’t keep him. She had to remember that all this was a dreamy fantasy, and not reality. Not Liza Lemanski’s reality, anyway.
“Cheers.” He tapped her glass and sipped, holding her gaze over the rim.
“You seem much more relaxed than when we left town,” she observed without taking her own drink.
“I am. I talked to my grandfather.”
She inched back in surprise. “You did? You told him...about the tape?”
He nodded. “It’s how we roll in the family. No surprises, no matter how bad they might be.”
“What did he say?”
He blew out a slow breath. “Some choice words, but, you know...”
“No,” she admitted. “I don’t know.”
“He knows my history and believes in my future.”
She smiled, the words a lovely echo of what she’d told him earlier. “Yes. I like that. I do, too.”
He leaned closer and kissed her lightly. “You haven’t tasted the house special yet.”
She answered by intensifying the kiss. Parting her lips, she let their tongues touch, tasting lemon and dry vermouth and the sweetness of a man who’d finally come to terms with his demons.
“I just did,” she whispered into the kiss. “And he tastes great.”
Chapter Ten
All the parties, all the women, all the noise and chaos and music and wasted nights on this yacht, and Nate simply couldn’t remember one night he enjoyed more than his dinner date with Liza Lemanski.
Fresh off the best and most honest conversation he’d had in years—maybe ever—with his grandfather, Nate’s mood soared as they laughed, held hands, sipped martinis, and talked about everything and nothing until the twilight turned to complete darkness.
Eventually, they moved into the dining room for lobster and salad, chocolate mousse and dessert wine. With the rain still holding off, and the sea breeze warm and strong, they took a long walk around the deck. The stewards and staff did exactly what he paid them to do—disappeared when he wanted them to—adding to the sensation that they were utterly alone, which was all he wanted to be.
They reached the upper deck with not a soul in sight. He guided her to the oversized leather sun bed at the far end of the yacht.
“We must be getting close to Naples,” she said, eyeing the distant lights of the mainland on the port side. “If I see lights, we’ve passed the Everglades.”
“We are, but there’s no reason to dock tonight if you want to stay at sea.”
“I have a reason. His name is Dylan.” She gave him a light elbow. “Trust me, kids change everything.”
“I trust you.” He ushered her to the sun bed, moving a few tufted pillows to make room for both of them. “But we still have time for a dip in the pool or drink in the spa if you like.”
“Hmm.” She considered that as she settled next to him, letting him snuggle her under his arm. Her body fit perfectly against his, curvy and soft and feminine. He already itched to touch more skin, to feel her under him and on top of him. He satisfied himself with stroking her bare arm and watching her eyes shutter closed, telling him she wanted the same thing. “I’d have to borrow a bathing suit from your sister.”
“Or...not.”
She laughed softly. “Don’t tell me. You have a strict skinny-dipping-for-all policy that you personally enforce for every employee of your new company.”
“I like the way you think, Ms. Lemanski. Ideas like that will have you promoted in no time.”
“Promoted to what?”
Very slowly, very carefully, he tucked his arms under her and eased her on top of him. “Over me.” Perfect. Her slender legs slid right over his, her hips slipping right where he wanted her.
“Is that my promotion or position?”
“Both.”
As she settled against his chest, he was only slightly surprised to feel her heart beat steady and strong and a little fast. He stroked her back, up and down, sliding into the dip of her waist, then inching over the rise of her backside, getting the tiniest whimper in response.
Pressing a kiss on her hair, inhaling the sweet floral scent of her, he let his hips rock once. She looked down at him, nibbling that lower lip.
“So what’s the company policy on making out?” she asked.
“Not required, but always...encouraged.”
She smiled and offered her mouth, their first kiss warm and full of promise. When it ended, she pulled back and looked into his eyes. “Don’t you have more questions about my qualifications and background?”
“Your qualifications are obvious—you proved yourself in the field today. Background?” He considered what he really wanted to know about her. “Yeah. Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”
“What makes you think I don’t?”
“You’re here on this lounge with me. You’re not the type of girl to do that if you were involved with someone.”
She smiled. “So true. Well, I’m involved with a guy who stands forty inches tall and has a weakness for chocolate milk and purple dinosaurs. What’s your excuse?”
“Honestly? I can’t commit, have questionable taste, and don’t trust anyone who might be after things other than true love.”
The response made her bow her back as she lifted her body in surprise. “Really? Is all of that true?”
More or less. “I have to be careful, for obvious reasons. And I have been known to choose unwisely when it comes to women. And commitment? Let’s just say it’s eluded me. I haven’t met the right girl yet.”
“I understand. I haven’t met the right guy yet.”
He brushed some hairs off her face and took another long trip in the beauty of her eyes. What would it be like to be the “right guy” for a woman like her? “So where does that leave us, Liza?”
“Us? I guess...boss and employee?”
“Nothing more?”
She gave him a slow smile. “What exactly are you suggesting?”
“I’d like...to know you better. Nothing official, nothing committed, just better.”
She drew in a breath, regarding him. “In other words...almost-not-quite anything.”
“Depends on your perspective.”
“Right now,” she whispered, closing her eyes, “I feel like I’m too close to have perspective.”
“But close enough for this.” He pulled her in for a long, slow, deep kiss, sliding his tongue between her lips to part them. Her body felt boneless and limp in his arms, sweet and soft and womanly as she intensified the kiss. Their legs meshed, their hips rocked, and their mouths began exploring everything they could taste.
Blood thrummed hot in his veins, swelling him against her, making him move in a natural rhythm that she met with each strained breath.
He moved his hands up and down
her back, one settling on the lovely curve of her backside, the other tunneling into silky hair. He angled her head and curled one leg around hers, somehow making them fit as though they were made for each other.
She tasted like chocolate and peppermint, smelled like roses and salt air, and felt like...heaven.
“You’re as good at this as everything else,” he whispered, tipping her chin up so he could plant tiny kisses on her throat.
“Not from too much experience,” she said. “Certainly not with billionaires on megayachts.”
“I don’t want to be a billionaire on a megayacht.”
She laughed. “Hate to break the bad news, but you am what you am, baby.”
But he wanted to be more. Different. Better. “Forget that, Liza,” he whispered gruffly.
She answered with a slight whimper when he found a sweet spot right above her collarbone.
“Forget who and what I was,” he whispered.
“Naughty Nate?” she teased. “How could I?”
“I hate that name.” His voice was thick with repugnance.
“Then don’t be...naughty.” She kissed his mouth, his cheek, his forehead and went back to his mouth for more, making it impossible for him to be anything but.
His hand touched her warm, smooth thigh, lightly stroking her skin, sending another explosion of response through his already electrified body.
“Kiss me again, Liza.”
She did, arching her back, giving him the chance to plant kisses on her throat and in the V-neck of the dress, inhaling the feminine scent and licking the delicious skin. Unable to resist, he dragged one hand up her side and curled around to brush her breast, getting a soft sigh of pleasure in response.
And a splat of rain on his face. And another hit his hand where it rested on her thigh.
“There’s the rain,” she said, turning to look up at the charcoal sky, the moon well hidden by thick clouds. “I guess Mother Nature’s giving us a message. Time to stop.”
“Here’s what I say to Mother Nature.” He reached down to the side of the chaise, patting the leather for the button. “There we go.”
Scandal on the Sand Page 10