She’d dreamed of this moment, hadn’t she? In fact, it was very possible she was dreaming right now.
Just like with Nonno.
Ignoring the quivering of her hand, she lifted her fingers to his face and grazed the rough shadow of whiskers and the smooth curve of his full lower lip. “You seem pretty real,” she whispered.
Under her fingertips, he smiled. “I am. And so’s this idea. Real and right and...” He blinked and glanced toward the model. “It feels like home.”
Her heart slipped around and fell to her stomach. “My home.”
“Our—”
She pressed on his lips to stop him. “Don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because it will hurt too much when it’s over.”
“It doesn’t have to be over, ever.”
“Stop,” she pleaded. “You’re so good with words, with saying exactly the right thing, with...pretend.”
“Said the woman who pretended to be dirt-poor.”
“I did not,” she shot back. “I’m just me. You never asked for a bank statement, so I never told you. You know how I feel about money. It’s the source of all my pain.”
He leaned closer, his expression warm and sincere. “Then let me be the source of all your pleasure. And contentment. And whatever else you want in the world, Francesca. Please.”
She managed a slow but shaky breath. “What are you asking from me? Permission to use my land?”
“We want you to be a partner in the project. And you’ll be in charge of...” He reached under the board that held the model and pulled out a miniature banner that he stabbed into the soft, fake grass. “La Dolce Vita.”
The Sweet Life. And wouldn’t it be? Couldn’t it be? With— “Did you say a partner?”
“I sure did.”
She swallowed, her mouth surprisingly dry. “A business partner?”
He took her face in his hands and held her head perfectly still so she couldn’t look anywhere but right into his eyes. “A life partner.”
The door pushed open, and they both backed away to see Jocelyn, who was equally surprised to find her office full—with a man on one knee. “Oh...oh, did I...Frankie! Did you see what’s going on in the lobby?”
Frankie stood, vaguely aware she still held Elliott’s hand as he came up with her. “The press conference?”
“Your soaps! Someone opened the baskets you brought and thought they were party favors, and they’ve been passed around to everyone, and people are asking for more.”
“Well, I guess that’s—”
“Good marketing,” Elliott supplied. “Sorry we stole your office, Joss.”
“Not a problem, but your team is looking for you, Elliott. They’re ready to start the announcement.”
He turned to Frankie, anticipation brightening his eyes. “Are you coming? We can easily bring this and add it to the plan.” He lifted the corner of the model to show how light and portable it was.
She opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Should she risk everything on him again? “I don’t know,” she said, her voice rough. “I need...time. To think.”
He pulled her closer, putting a light kiss on her forehead. “The offer is real. Everything is.”
With that, he left, nodding to Jocelyn on his way out.
“Please tell me I didn’t just interrupt The Big Moment,” she said with an awkward laugh when he was gone.
“No, a big moment, not the.” She gave herself a little hug, smiling at the other woman. “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted, surprising herself with her honesty.
“You want advice from a pregnant woman who’s watched her three best friends fall in love like dominoes and did the same thing right after she stepped foot on this island?”
“Really?”
“Kick off your shoes and—”
Frankie held up a hand. “Got it. But...” She turned to the model. “He’s so big on grand gestures, I never know if he’s real or not.”
“Oh, he’s real. My husband has been in on a lot of the planning sessions, and he’s told me how Elliott’s fought for this. The Barefoot Bay Bucks was his idea, and he’s paid gazillions to buy land around and adjacent to yours so no one had to touch your farm. And he’s masterminded this charity program where a portion of every game ticket sold is going to a foundation he’s starting called No Kidding that gives goats to families in Third World countries to help feed them with goat’s milk.”
She just blinked at her. “I’ve created a monster. In a good way.”
Jocelyn laughed. “He’s the butt of their every joke, but he loves it because he loves...” She caught herself. “He’s a good guy,” she added softly.
“I’m scared.” The admission came right from the heart and didn’t even surprise her. She was scared. Scared to love and lose again. Scared to trust and believe and hope.
Jocelyn stepped forward with outstretched hands. “You wouldn’t be human if you weren’t a little afraid. You can’t protect yourself from never getting hurt, Frankie. If you try to do that, you’ll never live. You’ll never know.” She gave Frankie a light hug. “I’m going out to the pavilion to watch the show. Want to come?”
“I’ll stay here, if you don’t mind.”
“Think about it,” Jocelyn said as she left Frankie alone.
After a moment, Frankie sat down again and stared at the model. It was like he’d climbed into her imagination and her heart and made her dreams come true.
“All our dreams, piccolina.”
She whipped around at the sound, but the room was empty. The door was closed. And she was alone. “Nonno?” A shudder passed through her, and then a complete and thorough sense of peace and comfort.
But there was nothing, no one, not even a flutter in the air. Only the fine line between her imagination and what was real.
And then she knew what she had to do.
Chapter Thirteen
Elliott stood to the far side of the makeshift platform stage, next to Zeke and their fourth partner, Garrett Flynn, the three of them content to stay out of the limelight. The media weren’t here for anyone but Nate Ivory, who, despite his proclaimed distaste for the spotlight, looked damned at home with a ton of it pouring over him.
The patio of Junonia was full with media and VIP guests, but Elliott’s gaze stayed locked on the doors leading into the spa, his every breath strained as he waited for Frankie. All he wanted was a chance to show her what he was made of, what he could be.