Barefoot Bay: Silhouettes on the Sand (Kindle Worlds Novella) Read online

  Text copyright ©2016 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Roxanne St. Claire. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Barefoot Bay remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Roxanne St. Claire, or their affiliates or licensors.

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  Books by Chris Keniston

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  A Message from Roxanne St. Claire

  Welcome to Barefoot Bay Kindle World, a place for authors to write their own stories set in the tropical paradise that I created! For these books, I have only provided the setting of Mimosa Key and a cast of characters from my popular Barefoot Bay series. That’s it! I haven’t contributed to the plotting, writing, or editing of Silhouettes on the Sand. This book is entirely the work of bestselling author Chris Keniston, a talented writer I handpicked to help launch this new program.

  Long before we met, I was a fan of Chris’s steamy beach romances. So, when the opportunity arose to launch a Barefoot Bay Kindle World program, Chris was one of the first writers I asked to join the party. And I’m so glad I did! This talented writer knows her way around a tropical setting and proves it on every page. Dipping her toes into my popular Barefoot Bay Billionaires trilogy, Chris introduces us to yet another wealthy member of the Ivory family and taps into my #1 favorite romance theme, “the pretend girlfriend.” Like every book she’s written, Chris scorches up the sand and gives romance readers a dreamy reading vacation in Barefoot Bay. All you have to do is kick off your shoes…and fall in love!

  Roxanne St. Claire

  PS. If you’re interested in the rest of the Barefoot Bay Kindle World novels, or would like to explore the possibility of writing your own book set in my world, stop by http://www.roxannestclaire.com/ for details!

  Chapter One

  "Our grandfather, a man richer than Bill Gates, offered to pay for the wedding, and the future Mrs. Nathaniel Ivory told him no?" Chase James Ivory tipped his brandy snifter at his sister Beth. "I like that girl more every day."

  Head of the Ivory Glass Company, Chase had come to Mimosa Key, Florida, in preparation for the long-awaited second Ivory wedding involving his generation. His youngest brother "Naughty" Nate Ivory had finally been caught and tamed by one Liza Lemanski. The full siblings, Chase, Greg, Mitch, and Beth were waiting for Nate onboard his yacht to leave for a quiet sail along the Gulf coast before all the real chaos from the upcoming festivities began.

  "You're going to love Liza," his sister Beth said with a smile. "Smart and sassy. Perfect for Nate. Dylan may not be her son by birth, but she's a mother bear nonetheless. No one tangles with Liza's family. Even though the Colonel grumbles about her stubbornness—often—I think he really likes her."

  "If it means more great-grandchildren, I think he'd let Lucretia Borgia into the fold." Chase would have laughed at his own joke if he didn't think it held a grain of truth. "At least Liza's taken the pressure off the rest of us grandchildren to breed."

  Beth almost snorted her brandy. "What planet are you living on? If anything it's made the Colonel more determined to increase the family troops. Oh, wait. That's right. You hide out in your New York man cave. Sleep, eat, and breathe Ivory Glass Company. I must say, moving the operations to the midtown high rise, including a penthouse apartment, made for an affordable commute. You never even have to leave the building. Ever."

  "Now you sound like the old man." Ten years ago, when Chase had first come up with the mixed-use plans for the new Ivory headquarters, his grandfather had been delighted with the idea. Chase and his cousin Devlin, founder of one of the largest commercial real estate firms in the country, had worked out every detail before presenting it to their grandfather. That had been long before the patriarch had become obsessed with seeing his grandchildren procreate.

  As far as the old man, a former marine colonel, was currently concerned, each of his grandchildren should have six children—the way he and his wife, Mimsy, of sixty years had done. Much to the Colonel's chagrin, every last one of his progeny was woefully behind the curve in increasing the troops—his loving reference to his family. Except Nate, who now had a new bride-to-be and a young son.

  "Never gonna meet a good woman if you live behind that desk. Balance, boy. Balance," Chase mimicked his grandfather.

  "You can take the man out of the marines, but you can't take the marines out of the man. Push, push, push." Beth tipped her head back and blew out a sigh. "Did you hear what he did to Greg?"

  "At the fund-raiser last month?"

  Beth nodded. "Greg made the mistake of telling the Colonel that he was going stag to our dear brother the senator's event."

  "Greg runs a major Hollywood studio. Surely an up-and-coming actress would have been more than happy to have her photos splattered across every media outlet under the sun at a ten-thousand-dollar-a-plate dinner for the senate's golden boy."

  "I don't think any of us realized the Colonel has upped the ante. If we can't find our own dates, he'll find someone for us."

  "But sticking Greg all night with Gwyneth Van Klein? What was the Colonel thinking?" Chase pushed to his feet and crossed the lounge of his brother's yacht to refill his drink. One of the stuffiest families on the social registry, the Van Kleins had married off all their children but one. And for good reason.

  Beth raised a single brow at her eldest brother, then shook her head. "The usual. Good stock. Wide hips. I swear, in this day and age, the old man still thinks of women as brood mares. He probably has Gwyneth's dental records."

  "I'd be more worried that he probably has yours." Nate, the groom-to-be, came through the doorway. "Sorry I'm late. Meeting over at the new ball field ran long. I see you've already helped yourself to refreshments."

  "We skipped the lemonade and went straight for the hard stuff." Beth smiled up at him.

  "My Napoleon brandy." Nate laughed. "Rough week?"

  "The Colonel gave me a lecture on my biological clock yesterday. And the day before—"

  "And this morning," Nate added, his eyes filled with sympathy. "Sorry, sis."

  "I'm used to it. It's not like I don't want to meet a nice guy, but it's not easy when your last name is Ivory."

  And Chase knew exactly what she meant. Having a family fortune prominently reported for all to see, the Ivory name was a golden ticket for swindlers and fortune hunters. He'd been there, done that, and bought the wardrobe. Which is why he'd decided, before ever setting foot on Mimosa Key, to preempt the former marine colonel. Chase might not run a major movie studio, but he'd seen Pretty Woman. While he wasn't stupid enough to hire a hooker to appease his grandfather's matchmaking attempts, Chase wasn't beyond hiring a good actress. The plan had merit.

  Strictly business. No emotions. No gold diggers. No complications.

  * * *

  "You’re getting paid to spend the next seven days with a man?" C. J. Lawson's head was ready to explode from her sister's newest crazy plan.

  "Yes and no." Bev shrugged.

  C.J. glared at her younger sister the same way she'd stare down a raw recruit and then drew upon years of military discipline not to scream in Bev's face. "You do realize those answers do not go together."

  "Yes, for five thousand dollars now and five thousand at the end of the week, I'm being paid to spend one week with Chase Ivory but no not "with" with him."

  "Do you know where you're staying?"

  "Mimosa Key."

  C.J. refrained from rolling her eyes at her Pollyanna-like sister. "In a hotel?"

  Nibbling on her lower lip, Bev hesitated a few minutes. "Maybe. He might have mentioned a boat."

  "Okay." Who would have thought dealing with raw recruits would be easier than shaking some sense into her sister? "Maybe in a hotel, or a boat, but definitely in separate rooms?"

  "Oh." Bev stopped tossing clothes into her suitcase. "I didn't ask."

  Oh, brother. Never before had C.J. wished so hard that Bev had gotten a few less beauty genes and just a teensy-weensy bit more of the brains in the family. At five foot five and 110 pounds with a twenty-four inch waist and blue eyes the shade of an azure crayon, Bev conjured images of Marilyn Monroe, Judy Holiday, and a long list of talented women who got more from sex appeal than smarts. "How could you not ask about sleeping arrangements?"

  "Because, for ten thousand dollars, I don't really care if he puts me on the roof."

  "Or in his bed?"

&nb
sp; Sweater in hand, Bev froze and looked up at her sister. "That wasn't part of the negotiations."

  All set to ask “What negotiations?” since her sister didn't seem to have any answers other than a 10K salary and a one-week time frame and something about fooling an old man, C.J.’s mind suddenly registered that Bev held a sweater. "Why are you packing cold-weather clothes for Mimosa Key?"

  "Oh, well, that's what I was getting around to explaining."

  That pixie twinkle in Bev's eye was never a good sign. As a kid it could have meant anything from teaching the unwilling cat to swim to homemade hair dye. Neither of which had produced stellar results. "Then explain. Again."

  "Okay." Bev flipped her long blonde hair behind her shoulder and sucked in a deep breath. "Chase's brother is getting married in eight days. It's a big family wedding. All the siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles will be there. Even their mom, who is practically a hermit somewhere in Europe, is coming."

  C.J. bobbed her head, encouraging her sister to get to whatever part of this plan she hadn't already told C.J.

  "So Chase has this grandfather."

  "Yes," C.J. quipped a bit impatiently. "You've mentioned that too. He wants to see all his grandchildren married. I got that part."

  "Well, the Colonel—"

  "Colonel?"

  "That's the grandfather. He was a marine."

  "Is," C.J. said without thinking.

  "Oh, yeah." Bev sighed and echoed with her sister, "Once a marine, always a marine."

  "Right." C.J. nodded again, sorry she'd derailed her sister's story.

  "To avoid the grandfather harassing and annoying and prodding and matchmaking and creating family drama at his brother's wedding, I've been hired to be his date. Like Pretty Woman."

  "You do remember she was a hooker?"

  "Julia Roberts?"

  Lord, C.J. loved her sister. Really she did. But the girl had tested C.J.’s patience from the day their parents had brought Bev home from the hospital. "Vivian—the character in the movie—Vivian was a hooker."

  "Oh, yeah. Whatever. He offered me 10K to be his date." Bev stopped and, biting on her lower lip again, raised her gaze to the ceiling in thought. "Maybe it was girlfriend." Smiling, she bobbed her head. "That was it. His girlfriend for a week."

  "Girlfriend." C.J. could hear the whine in her voice. She hated people who whined. "And you didn't ask about sleeping arrangements?" Why couldn't Bev be something normal, like a manicurist or receptionist? Why an actress? "Never mind. Can we get back to the clothes?"

  "Oh. Right." Bev perked up. "This morning I got a call from my friend Gloria. You remember Gloria?"

  C.J. nodded. She had no clue who the hell Gloria was, but C.J. had no intention of letting this conversation go down another rabbit hole.

  "Gloria got a small part in John Cipro's new movie. It's a minor character, but they need a lot of extras because they're filming out in the middle of nowhere, and she got me on the list of extras! If they like me, I might even get to say something." Bev practically jumped in place with glee.

  "At least that's a legitimate gig. When does filming start?"

  "Monday."

  "This Monday?" Now C.J. was really confused.

  "Yes. In Canada, where it's cold."

  At least that explained the sweater. "So, why are we having this conversation, if you're not taking the job in Mimosa Key?"

  "Because you are."

  Chapter Two

  "Are you seriously bringing an actress to an Ivory family dinner?"

  Hefting a casual shoulder, Chase turned to his sister. "Who better?"

  "Oh, I don't know. Maybe, say, a date. A real one." Beth tossed her eldest brother a pointed glare.

  Pouring himself a drink, Nate merely shook his head at Chase. "You won’t fool our grandfather, and, even if he does think you're dating, that only shifts the focus from dating to marriage and babies."

  "Maybe, but more likely"—Chase lifted his glass to examine the smooth honey-colored liquid within—"it will shift his focus to the others. Either way, it's a risk I'm willing to take."

  "I'm only sorry I didn't think of it myself." Greg raised his glass to Chase. "Certainly would have saved me that insufferable night escorting Gwyneth."

  "Come on, guys." Beth frowned. "She's not that bad."

  All but Mitch whipped their heads around.

  "Okay, so she's no looker—" Beth started.

  "Or talker," Greg interrupted. "I'm not a complete ass. A woman doesn't have to look like a movie star to draw my attention, and I can certainly ignore her Victorian taste in fashion, but it helps if she could carry her half of the conversation. Hell, I would have settled for one-tenth of the conversation."

  Mitch, the brother whose fund-raiser had been at the root of the problem, and the only brother not to react to Beth's earlier comment, pushed to his feet. "Cut Gwyneth some slack. Growing up with Prudence Van Klein as a mother couldn't have been much of a picnic. As I remember it, even as a kid she hated crowds."

  "That's right." Nate snapped his fingers. "Weren't you her escort for her coming-out party a hundred years ago?"

  Mitch nodded. "She didn't say a word to me until the end of the night, and even then all she said was thank you. But I do remember thinking that her eyes seemed to be saying more."

  Chase caught the way his brother Mitch, gazing out the window, appeared to be lost in another place and time. Two years ago his wife had been killed in a car crash. Since then, unless he was in front of a podium or a camera, Mitch always seemed to be somewhere else. "Which brings me back to the perfect plan," Chase continued. "This way I have no worries that a real date will fall in love with the estate, the money, the perks, and come up with heaven-only-knows-what plan to stay in my world. No thank you." They'd all been down that road before, and Chase had run out of financially stable socialites to parade in front of his family.

  "So how did you find this woman?" Beth asked.

  "Community theater. Since I arrived in Mimosa Key earlier than expected, Nate and Liza were in Orlando with Dylan. Lacey Walker, the resort owner, suggested I try out the new theater. That's when I got the idea and approached Bev after the show. She agreed over dinner."

  "I don't know." Greg plopped his ankle over his knee.

  "No matter what Mitch thinks, I'm certainly not giving the Colonel a chance to stick me with a wedding date like Gwyneth Van Klein." Chase kept an eye on the harbor as the captain steered the cabin cruiser into the slip. "What about you?" He lifted his chin at his sister.

  "Jack Preston."

  "My friend?" Nate's brows curled into a V. "From the Niners?"

  Beth nodded.

  Chase leaned forward. He knew the name. Jack was not only a fellow recreational ball player, he was also a cohort in crime from Nate's "Naughty" days. Why hadn't Chase heard about this? "Is it serious?"

  "Yeah," Nate echoed, his tone laced with discontent.

  "It's not like that." Beth shook her head.

  "So what's it like?"

  "Just friends with mutually compatible bank accounts."

  "Ah." Relieved, Chase leaned back in his seat. "Leech repellent."

  "God, I hate it when you say that." Beth set her glass on the table. "When is your date arriving?"

  "Soon. She's joining us at the resort restaurant for dinner."

  "I made reservations for all of us on the veranda," Nate said. "This way everyone can get to know my bride and Chase's date better before the Colonel arrives tomorrow."

  "Sounds like a plan." Chase stood with the rest of his siblings. The cabin cruiser from the yacht had docked, and he was anxious to get this show on the road. He especially wanted to visit a little more with Liza. Except for flying down briefly for Dylan's birthday, they'd hardly spoken in person. Every time he and Nate had arranged to be at the family estate for the Colonel’s regularly scheduled Sunday dinner on the same date, some crisis or other that only Chase could deal with had come up and kept him in Manhattan. This time he had vowed, even if the world spun off its axis, he would not miss Nate's wedding. "Any chance you'll let me drive that little Aston of yours?"

  Nate shook his head back and forth multiple times. "Not in my lifetime."