Sex, Lies and Contracts

By

Jennifer Probst

TO MY READERS:

When I visited Newport, Rhode Island and strolled the famous Cliff Walk, I looked at the gorgeous mansions high above the ocean and wondered what it would feel like to live there. I suddenly had a flash of my heroine, standing in the pouring rain, looking to escape her own emotional and physical prison. Later on, when I took a sunset sail, my hero appeared beside me: a true sailor who loved the water; alone; searching for his soul-mate. My story was suddenly born.

Julianna and Jack have much to teach each other about trust, letting go of control, and connecting on a deep physical level. I hope you enjoy reading about their journey as much as I enjoyed writing about them.

READER ALERT!:

Julianna Elizabeth Waters is an old fashioned spinster desperate to break out of her sexual constraints. When her sexy gardener offers her a naughty bargain to belong to him, body and soul, she does things she always imagined of. Being dominated, controlled and spanked have never felt so good..

Chapter One

“You must marry her.”

Jack Alexander Woodward crossed one boot over another and leaned back in his leather chair. He glanced at the delicate woman across the room who shot fierce sparks of fury from her amber eyes. He’d been told by many women his mouth had a natural sulky pout made for sex, but those same lips were able to form a sneer that could intimidate the most demanding of females.

Unfortunately, the woman before him was his mother, and not the least bit afraid.

“Rachelle will be the perfect wife for you. I’ve been patient with you, Jack.”

Victoria Woodward set her teacup onto the rose bordered china plate and gave him the look she had designed from years of raising her only son. “I’ve let you go a bit wild and almost ruin the family name. I’ve been silent regarding your messy affairs and your crazy dreams of sailing the seas. But enough is enough, my dear. You will marry Rachelle by the end of the month and take your rightful place. You will have a son and pass down the family legacy to him.”

He remembered being little and easily admonished by her strict tone. His mother always managed to make him behave by some mysterious womanly power. He fought the urge to fidget in his chair and reminded himself he was thirty two years old, far past the age when he should listen to his mother. Yet, strange fear bubbled within as he looked into her face. Ever since his father passed away, she’d focused on obtaining Jack the perfect wife. At first, he thought it was a logical reaction to her husband leaving her alone. But as the months passed and she insisted on parading a bunch of rich, blue-blood sharks before him, he realized there could be more to the story.

A story with an ending he didn’t particularly want.

“Mother, don’t get me wrong. I understand you want me to settle down and marry. But I need to do this on my own terms. I don’t want some suitable companion who looks good on paper. I don’t want a breeder. I want someone I can love.”

Her eyes softened and pressure eased from his chest. But her words slammed through him like the proverbial nail in his own personal coffin.

“Jack, we’re out of time. If you don’t get married by the end of the month, your cousin will take over Castle Point. You will lose everything. The house, the money, the company. Everything.”

She took advantage of his stunned silence and continued. “I didn’t want you to know what your father had done. He was worried about you—about the legacy. He saw a man who didn’t want to grow up and assume responsibility, so he decided to take matters into his own hands. Your cousin is willing to settle down. Bryce is next in line, and he’s not afraid to get married. He wants to take over Woodward Shipping. You’ve always known that.”

The thought of his cousin sucker-punched him low in the gut. Oh, yes, Bryce had sniffed around his legacy his whole life. Always willing to step in when Jack ran off. Ever polite and accommodating to his parents, and consistently whispering sweet nothings in his father’s ear. Love words regarding Jack’s unwillingness to marry and take over the family company. Jack knew those intimate conversations had pushed his father to change the will. His cousin was closer than ever to getting everything his family owned. Everything that belonged to Jack.

Time was officially up.

Jack muttered a curse, ignoring his mother’s disapproving frown. He pushed himself off the chair and paced the thickly piled carpet. Pissed off at his family, but mostly at himself, he realized he’d sorely underestimated the impatience of his old man. The Woodwards, once a large family, were proud of their distinguished ancestry. But generations of uncles had pursued riches in America or adventures overseas, and Jack was the only direct heir to Castle Rock. Built on the site of his ancestors’ medieval castle, the manor house was a reminder of a time when duty surpassed individual wants.

For the Woodwards, that time had never ended. The owner of Castle Rock would also run Woodward Shipping Enterprises—the most successful maker and supplier of seagoing vessels in the country. All males of every generation before him had settled down with families in Castle Rock and run the family business. His legacy had been drummed into his mind since his toddler years.

Jack shook his head in an effort to clear his thoughts. The expression on his mother’s face told the true story. If he didn’t marry, he’d lose everything. He cut through the problem with his usual economy of emotion. Whining and bitching about his father’s decision solved nothing. Upsetting his mother so soon after his father’s death would be cruel. He needed a wife.

But it would be on his terms.

His mother’s gaze bore into his back like an irritating bee sting. “I need more time,” he said.

Victoria gave a long sigh, deep with suffering. “Darling, you’ve had years to make this decision. Rachelle is a beautiful young lady and will give you lovely children.”

He wondered briefly if his mother knew about the famous women’s liberation movement where a mate was chosen for love, not breeding. He decided not to test her. Jack gathered up all his emotions for his acting debut. Hopefully, it would be the finale, and he would not have to partake in any other emotional scenes.

“I’m not in love with Rachelle. Yes, she’s lovely, but after a conversation regarding the weather and the china and society gossip, there’s nothing left. I need a woman who’s my match. Someone who won’t bore me to tears in the years to come. Let me have more time.”

“For goodness sakes, why? Do you really believe you’ll find this soul-mate in a few months? You’ve already been through every suitable woman in England.”

He gave a roguish grin, but as usual, his mother remained immune. “Maybe in England. I intend to go to the United States.”

Victoria blinked. “Excuse me? And do what?”

He leaned forward as he sought to convince her. “Hear me out. I understand the stakes, and I’m willing to settle if I can’t find the right woman. Grant me three more months. It’ll give me an opportunity to visit some of our offshore sites and check on our expansion overseas. I need to search for her on my terms, mother. As Jack, the sailor. Not Jack, the heir to Castle Rock. Let me disappear and focus on being me. In that way, I may find her.”

Victoria put down her teacup. Her lioness eyes, so like his own, mirrored pure frustration. Fortunately, Jack spotted another emotion in their depths. Empathy. He almost had her.

He dropped to one knee and seized his mother’s hand. “Three more months. Bryce can run the company while I’m gone. I’ve already settled Dad’s papers. You can tell everyone I’m on a brief voyage to grieve, and when I return, I’ll announce my decision to marry.”

Victoria stared at him for a long moment, then shook off his grip with irritation. “Don’t pull that drama on me, Jack,” she said. “I’m not one of your women.”

He grinned and gracefully rose from the floor. “As you constantly remind me. Thank you, mother.”

Her face softened, though she looked worried. “Search for this lost soul-mate of yours. But when you return, you’ll take over the company and marry. So long as she’s not a prostitute or horrible celebrity, I don’t care who you fall in love with.”

“I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

“What will I tell Bryce?”

He waved his hand in dismissal. “Bryce will be thrilled to hear I’m gone. Does he know about Dad’s will?”

Victoria shook her head. “Only you and I and the lawyers.”

“I won’t worry about him, then. Let him believe he’ll inherit the whole pie for a while. It’ll keep him happy.”

“Jack, why are you always so hard on your cousin?”

He paused, tempted to tell his mother about the rumors. Bryce Sinclair was a wonder boy in many ways—the perfect confidante and supporter for both the company and his family. Something was off with him, though. Always had been. Jack caught the glimmer of ruthlessness in his face when he thought no one was looking. He’d also seen Bryce in action. But there was no need to worry his mother further. “I’d better go. I’ll call when I get settled.”

He left his mother with her tea and strode out the door.

* * *

“Promise me….”

Julianna stared out at the churning waters and heard her father’s whisper through the harsh wind. She shivered at the first explosion of salty spray and wrapped her arms tighter around her body. Still, she did not move from the cliff’s edge. A storm brewed overhead and she longed to feel the icy cold against her skin. Numbness had been her constant companion over the past week. She needed to feel alive.

“You are my only daughter. You must promise to keep the family legacy alive.”

A cloud hovered and split open. The ground shook beneath her feet with the fierceness of a woman scorned, and she tilted her face upward as the rain poured down. Her hair lifted and whipped around like Medusa in all of her glory. Julianna gasped as the cold seeped through her bones and re-fired her blood, forcing her heart to pump heavier for warmth. The numbness burst wide open and let all the pain and hurt stream back.

“The Cliff House must be saved. You must marry someone with wealth. Someone who is worthy of you.”

She let out a long, animal wail as the grief took hold. The scene flashed in the sky overhead. Her father dying inch by inch as she watched. The promise wrested from her lips to save their family home. The final closure of his eyes, and the peaceful smile upon his lips as he sealed her Fate.

Her promise would be her sentence.

Her home would be her prison.

Julianna had no one. No siblings. No parents. No cousins. The money was gone, swallowed in a drench of medical bills and mortgage payments. The life insurance would barely pay for taxes and upkeep for the month. She had no one to turn to. The banks and credit unions and friends had nothing left to give her.

She needed to marry. For money, not love. For the home she’d been trying to escape her entire life.

The ocean roared its fury and the sky boomed back.

Her shoulders slumped. The emotions passed as quickly as they had taken hold. Julianna wasn’t surprised. She’d learned young emotions had no place in real life. Not when people depended on her.

She turned from the cliff and walked back toward her house. Her shoes sank into the muddy ground, and her dress hung heavy with wetness as she left the storm behind. The heat of the house pressed down upon her like an oppressive spirit.

Dreams of luxurious travel, hot affairs and a shiny, open world lay behind her. She must do her duty and continue her family’s heritage. Along the way, perhaps the man who was destined to fulfill her promise would be a man she could love.

Julianna shut the door behind her. On the storm. On her grief.

On her future.

Chapter Two

Julianna ducked behind the thicket of wild pink roses and froze. Who was he? Definitely not a tourist. He surveyed the lush grounds of The Cliff House with an assessing air rather than the awe of an onlooker. A realtor? No, she still had time to get the money. She’d used her father’s life insurance policy to pay most of the debt that strangled like a drowning swimmer. This man was no businessman.

This man was a modern day sex god.

He wore a basic white-t-shirt. Probably Hanes. Faded worn jeans clung to muscled thighs. Battered work boots on his feet. Definitely working class. Definitely not from around here.

As if he sensed her presence, his gaze focused on the spot where she hid. The dying sun cast shadows over her crouched figure. She cursed under her breath as he determinedly walked up the path, veered around the thick hedges, and stopped behind her. She pretended to finger the roses as if checking on their status, then tilted her chin upward.

Golden tiger eyes seized hers and held. He towered over her, his tawny, blonde-streaked hair falling over his forehead in disarray, his carved lips pursed in half amusement, half irritation as he stared down at her. He held himself with an almost regal, haughty manner, completely at odds with his sweat-sheened tan skin and work clothes.

“Am I interrupting?”

His voice cut smooth and creamy, like hot caramel poured slowly over melting ice cream. A slight English accent rounded his words.

Annoyed at her immediate physical attraction, she brushed some leaves from her jeans and stood up. “No.” She refused to explain her presence around her own house, even though it was obvious she’d been spying on him. “What can I do for you?”

He hitched his thumbs in the loop of his belt buckle and made a lazy assessment of her face. His gaze dropped to take in the thrust of her breasts in her thin black tank, the worn cut of her jeans, her bare feet peeking among the weedy grass. “Looks like you need some help,” he drawled, taking note of the property. “Shame to neglect something so pretty.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your garden.” Amber lights sparked in the depths of his eyes and twinkled. “I’m looking for some odd jobs in town, and your neighbor suggested I stop by. Said your father passed quite recently and the property’s been neglected. Sorry for your loss.”

Julianna blinked in suspicion, but he seemed sincere. Her nosy neighbor probably despised the way she’d let the landscaping run wild. After all, Mrs. Cutter lived for tourists at the famous Cliff Walk and proudly invited them in for afternoon tea and to show off her own perfectly manicured estate. The Cliff House had become an eyesore during her father’s illness, and Julianna was the first to admit it.

“I’ve been preoccupied,” she said. He didn’t respond, just nodded and waited for her to continue.”How long are you in town?”

He shrugged massive shoulders. “Till I’m ready to move on. I’m staying down at the marina on my boat. I can clean up the yard and shrubs and fix that back wall.” He pointed to the elaborate stone pathway and wall that circled around the pond and held a variety of fish and flowers. Chipped rocks and wood littered the area, remnants of the last storm. “A few people in town can vouch for me.”

Julianna hesitated. Money was a bit tight.

As if sensing her thought, he grinned. Deep laugh lines carved the corners of his mouth. “I can give you a great price.”

“How long will it take?”

“A week. I’ll get the supplies in town and rent the equipment.”

“And if I’m not satisfied with the work?” She bit her tongue the moment the words left her mouth. She’d wanted to disguise her sudden unease with this man’s presence. The corner of his lip twitched slightly and he took a step forward. The scents of fresh grass and sweat and musk drifted on the late morning breeze. “You don’t pay unless you’re satisfied.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “I guarantee I’ve never left a client hanging.”

Raw, sexual heat flooded her face and moved downward. The air hung heavy and still as if ripe for something more… something completely primal. Shocked at her own reaction to this stranger, she fought for control and nodded. “Fine. You’re hired.”

“I can start this afternoon. I’ll go take a look around. By the way, name’s Jack.”

“Jack what?”

He hesitated. “Wolfe. Jack Wolfe at your service.

“Fine,” she said again. Her fingers clenched, and she prayed he wouldn’t extend his hand for a formal introduction. Touching this man was out of the question. “Julianna Elizabeth Waters. Umm, I’m going into town for a bit, but I’ll return later. See you then.”

She turned her back and marched into the house. The cool air hit her skin in welcome relief as she slumped against her door and wondered what the hell she had just done.

Maybe she was sexually inexperienced and deprived, but that was no reason to lust after her temporary gardener. The sheer cliché of it overwhelmed her enough to help her shake off her ridiculous thoughts and get ready to go into town.

* * *

Jack watched Julianna drive away like Smokey and the Bandit. He chuckled freely as he made his way down the path and into town, enjoying the picture of the lady of the manor getting flustered by a working stiff. Mrs. Cutter had given him an earful, and piqued his interest. Julianna had inherited the Cliff House when her father passed on. Supposedly, she had no other family and had fallen onto hard financial times. Her neighbor gleefully pointed out the neglected property, then launched into her assessment of Julianna’s personal life. No men in the picture. Mrs. Cutter had first thought the young lady was a lesbian, but learned she had dated a few men in town and turned them down after a few dates. She was snobby, arrogant, and distant. She never got involved with the neighbors or the historical foundation or the efforts to increase tourism in Newport.

Jack kept quiet while he drank iced tea, let the woman ogle him, and took in all the town gossip. He’d decided early on that Newport, Rhode Island was a perfect town for him to settle in for a week or so. The "city by the sea" boasted a perfect marina to dock his schooner, and odd jobs to take advantage of. Right now, he wanted to meet some local women and sail. In order to keep up his ruse, he’d hired himself out as a handyman and gardener, and knowing how fast gossip spread, planned to treat himself to a few intimate encounters this week to go fishing—literally—for possible mates.

Unfortunately, Julianna Waters intrigued him.

He’d caught her off guard, spying on him. Her plain appearance and clipped, polite tone wreaked havoc with the heat in her dark eyes. Her brown hair was caught up in a severe twist pinned to the top of her head. She wore little make-up, and a smattering of freckles sprinkled her nose. Her lips were full and pouty like a bee sting not yet healed. Her chin held a stubborn tilt, and he’d noticed she clenched her teeth and fingers automatically, trying to keep her nervousness from showing. She’d obviously been attracted to him, and even Jack had been taken aback by the sexual punch between them. But she was so uncomfortable with her body and reaction that he couldn’t help teasing her.

The woman seemed buttoned up so tight and proper that it would take a heavy-duty crane to get her out of her clothes and into bed. Those lips were a waste and obviously underused. Her body had curves galore, lush hips and generous breasts, but the way she kept herself in check told him volumes. He wondered what she'd look like during orgasm. He wondered what it would take a man to get her there.

He wondered if he was the man who should try.

Jack wiped the sweat off his brow and shook his head. No, he didn’t have time for such diversions. She’d make a terrible wife—everything he didn’t want, and he had no time to play games. Julianna obviously needed a rich man to bail her out of her financial crisis. Dinner conversation with someone so stiff-necked and proper would be sheer torture. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on her. He pitied the poor man she set her sights on, but maybe he could do the guy a favor and loosen her up a bit.

He grinned at the thought and headed for his boat.

* * *

Julianna checked her appearance in the mirror and nodded with satisfaction. The sundress was demure but a bright, happy yellow, which gave her mousy hair a bit of help. The last time she’d dared to put highlights in to jazz things up, she’d suffered with an orangey tint that wouldn’t wash out. She should have learned early on that she was not the type of woman to court style or flash. Even her makeup looked like it had faded, and she had just applied it half an hour ago.

She smoothed her topknot, grabbed her sunglasses and headed out the door.

And crashed into her newly hired gardener.

The breath left her body in a big whoosh as she rammed into a superhero-hard chest, damp with sweat. He righted her immediately with a firm grip on both her arms. Julianna jerked back as his fingers burned into her flesh, then swiped off his touch like a child not wanting to catch cooties.

Damn him. He forced the oddest reaction from her. She’d never met a man who made her so nervous. One sun-bleached brow arched at her response, and heat flooded her cheeks. She forced herself past the embarrassment and met his gaze.

“Sorry.” His badass grin said he was nothing of the sort. “Was just going to throw myself on your mercy for some water.”

“You didn’t bring any?”

His lip twitched at her outright rudeness. “Drank it all.”

Julianna glanced at her watch. “I have some bottled water inside, I’ll get you some.” She turned and opened the door. He followed her.

“Gonna be a hot one,” he said.

“Summer usually is.” She retrieved two bottles and handed them to him. He thanked her, but didn’t budge from the foyer. He motioned toward the high vaulted ceilings elaborately painted and the spiral staircase that echoed images of Gone with the Wind. The open rooms boasted formal antiques, rich wood, and polished marble. “Nice place.”

“Thank you, Mr. Wolfe. Now unless you need anything else—”

“Jack.”

“Right. Jack. I must be going.”

“Looking mighty pretty and bright as the sun. Lunch date?”

He was quite the charmer. Evidently, Jack Wolfe was used to getting whoever he wanted when he wanted her. Probably with a “pretty please” from the female recipient, if that body was any indication of his stamina. She fought a smile, knowing her sex factor was pretty low on the Richter scale. Men didn’t bother with plain women like her. Unless he was bored. Julianna crossed her arms and narrowed her gaze.

“Yes, that’s correct. I have a lunch date. Will you be finished by the end of the week?”

He lifted his battered blue cap and scratched his head. “Should be, as long as the retaining wall holds. It’s pretty weak, so it might need replacing. Will let you know later this afternoon.”

“I’ll want an estimate if that’s the case.”

“Of course. What do you teach?”

“Excuse me?”

“You teach, right?”

“How did you know that?” Julianna tried not to sound accusatory, but the idea of this man knowing anything about her personal life seemed… disturbing.

“Your neighbor. Mrs. Cutter. She said you teach classes and took care of your parents.”

Her tone reflected pure ice. “I don’t approve of gossip.”

White teeth flashed as he grinned. “Not gossip if it’s the truth. Something tells me you teach… English.”

She pursed her lips. “Poetry. I have to go.” She walked straight through the door and assumed he’d follow. Thank God he did. She locked the door and jingled her keys in her hand. “Let me know about the wall.”

“Sure. Have fun with the ladies.”

Julianna hated his correct assumption. So she lied. “I’ll have fun on my date.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Hmm. Mrs. Cutter said you always have lunch with the girls on Tuesday afternoon. 1:00pm. At The Black Pearl.”

Temper made her turn on her heel. She glared at him from behind tinted lenses. “Well, she’s wrong. What else did Mrs. Cutter tell you about me?”

He obviously enjoyed her annoyance. He took his time and uncapped the bottle of water. Removed his ball cap. Dumped the water over his head.

Julianna’s breath caught. Her body slammed into overdrive at the raw sexual scene before her. Water dripped from his thick blond hair and ran down his face. Over a carved jaw. Slid down to dampen perfectly cut lips.

His t-shirt soaked up the liquid and clung to his chest like a Women’s Night gone wild. Hunger hit hard and deep as she followed the trail down to his belt buckle, where droplets slid under the denim and hid beyond. Her pussy grew tight and uncomfortable. And as wet as that bottle of water. Her mouth fell open like a guppy’s. She snapped it shut and struggled to look unaffected.

His outright laugh called her an outright liar. He shook his hair like a dog in heat and slid the baseball cap back on his head.

“She said you haven’t been on a date in months. Said you like to go to lunch, attend the historical meetings, teach your classes, and stay boarded up in the Cliff House.” He paused and his gaze raked over her, probed under her clothes, and noted her body, which refused to be ignored. “A shame, really. Something tells me you play as hard as you work. If you’d give someone the chance, that is.”

Their gazes met and locked. Seconds ticked by and neither of them wanted to lose. Julianna told herself time was the only factor that made her finally turn away. “I don’t have time to play games, Mr. Wolfe. I’m sure you’re a man who’s a master, and you wouldn’t have much fun with an amateur.”

“Jack,” he said softly. “And you’re wrong.”

She ignored him and hurried down the pathway. Absolutely ridiculous. She was living a D.H. Lawrence novel and she’d always been an Austen sort of girl. Her frikkin gardener, for God’s sakes. It didn’t get any more cliché than that. And there was one thing she hated more than anything.

Being a cliché.

She smothered the thought and drove away.

* * *

Julianna paused at her keyboard, the mouse hovered above the Send button. Nausea hit her belly, but she knew there were no other options. This wasn’t nineteenth- century England and she didn’t belong in the ton. She had already used her father’s intricate network of social contacts to begin introductions to a number of eligible men, but no one seemed interested in a mousy woman with an old estate and nothing else. Many of the men she dated locally didn’t have enough funds to support a money-suck like the Cliff House. The ones who did were past seventy, which placed them out of the running. She didn’t have the money to travel and meet new prospects. Therefore, there was one social connection she needed to use to further her plan.

The unlimited world of the Internet. Social networking circles so tight-knit and secretive, it was more closely guarded than a sex ring. Many men needed to marry in order to secure companies, or meet a mate with certain specifications in order to claim their inheritances. Others needed an heir. The thought of a child made her heart ache with longing. And hope.

Her ad would be well received by the group and guarded in a private manner. Unfortunately, she had nothing to trade for. Except her name.

Her family came from a long line of aristocrats with royalty in the blood. Her people, among the first to settle in Rhode Island, came from the old English gentry. In early American days, Newport had been a playground for the rich and famous, from the Vanderbilts to the Astors, and her family had taken a prominent place among them.

Julianna knew some people coveted all that. She counted on finding a man who liked the idea of a spouse with a family straight from The Great Gatsby. Never mind that her family was now gone. The past, she'd learned, always survived.

The site catered to men and women who needed to marry for specific purposes. Julianna’s face burned as she compared herself to a prostitute offering her services. Perhaps the man would request breeding papers as evidence of her birthright. Bitterness leaked through yet again and tempted her to consider selling the Cliff House. Walk away with her pride intact and money in her pocket.

"Promise me...."

Her father's voice echoed in her mind. Her prison was also her haven. If she sold the house, she'd have nowhere to go. In the past, the lure of the unknown had excited and tempted her to explore the world and find who she really was.

Now, the thought made her quake with terror. Here, at least, she was safe. Her family memories burned bright within its walls, and if she left the house behind, she'd have nothing left of her past. Only a broken promise to her dying father.

The noose around her neck tightened.

Julianna uploaded her ad and the photo. A plain woman looked back at her, a forced smile on her lips. The specially created email address would receive any initial inquiries or questions before securing a meeting. She took a deep breath and clicked the mouse.

Her fate was sealed.

A knock sounded on the door.

She hesitated, knowing Jack was working outside and having no desire to meet up with him. She had been keeping her distance from the sexy gardener who tied her tongue in knots and made her want to do very bad things. Things she’d craved deep in her soul for so long that she wondered if she’d be satisfied with any man.

She peeked through the window and faced the object of her obsession. Shirtless. Dirty. Sweaty.

She flung open the door, annoyed at the interruption and determined to set him straight regarding their worker/employer relationship.

Then she saw the blood.

He held up his hand, wrapped in his white t-shirt and stained muddy brown. His face looked almost sheepish. “Sorry.  I had an accident. May I use your bathroom?”

Julianna stepped aside and took hold of his hand. She pressed the t-shirt more firmly over the wound and led him down the hall. “What did you do?”

“Made an ass out of myself.”

She couldn’t help the tsking sound she made under her breath at his language. Her father’s strict rules of propriety had been drilled into her from birth. But she fought off a bit of amusement at his temper. Evidently, he despised making mistakes that cost him blood. Too much blood, by the looks of it.

“Sit.” She pushed him down on the closed toilet seat, quickly grabbed some washcloths and ran them under warm water. She winced when she drew the shirt away from the gaping wound. A clean cut crossed his hand, deep enough to warrant stitches from the looks of it. She dumped the shirt on the floor and began wiping away the dirt. “You may need a hospital.”

He shook his head hard enough to remind her of a little boy refusing to go to the doctor. “I’ll be fine. You shouldn’t use those cloths, though. They’ll be ruined.”

She shrugged at the delicate rose lace that adorned the towels and kept pressure on the wound. “I do laundry.”

“Yourself?”

Her brow lifted in annoyance. She concentrated on the task and ignored his curious stare. “I know how to take care of a house. I like my privacy.”

“Still, this is a pretty big house. And you don’t look like the type of woman to… clean.”

Juliana refused to take the bait. She couldn’t help her tendency to screen her face with a calm, emotionless façade. Lord knew she’d learned her lesson along the way.  Temper tantrums or emotional outbursts did nothing to help matters. “Interesting. You don’t seem like the type of man who doesn’t know how to handle a mower.”

His rich laughter attacked, then soothed her eardrums.

She reached for the brown bottle under the cabinet, determined he would never know how his laughter affected her.

“Nice shot,” he said. “I’m blaming it on the rental company. They gave me crap equipment to work with.”

“Hmmm. Okay, this is going to sting.”

She poured a generous dose of peroxide into the gaping wound and felt his muscles strain against the burning pain. He cursed fluently under his breath and with a creative flair. She kept her touch brisk and impersonal as she examined the wound and retrieved the appropriate dressings and tape.

“Were you ever a nurse?” he asked. “You seem good at this.”

“No.”

“You don’t like to talk much about yourself, do you?”

She took out a large bandage and studied his hand to determine the placement. His skin was still warm from the sun, golden brown and a bit rough. A callus rested on the tip of his finger. She fought back a primal urge to press soothing lips to his wound. The sizzling energy nipped at the nerve endings of her fingers and made her flinch. She answered his question only to distract him from her reaction.

“Not really. Let’s just say I received a fine education, then came back to take care of my parents.”

He seemed to wait for more, but when she didn’t continue, he prodded. “But you teach. Poetry, right? A full professor?”

“Adjunct. I teach at the local college but never had the opportunity to get my PhD. I did my master’s degree online so I didn’t need to leave the house.”

“And?”

Round and round, the tape wrapped his wrist to hold the bandage in place. “And that’s it. My parents needed someone twenty-four seven, and I have no siblings. I’m the end of the line.” A hint of bitterness leaked through her tone.

“What was wrong with your mom?”

“Manic depressive. She needed to be watched at all times, and my father and I were in charge.” Julianna left out the rest. How her traitorous heart had finally felt free to go explore and live her life when her mother finally passed. She’d done her duty as the good daughter.

She dreamed of finally allowing herself the freedom to experience sexual ecstasy. Her body had been as tightly locked up as her mind and emotions, and she longed to immerse herself in pleasure. Of course, the very night she packed her bags to leave, she learned about her father’s cancer. Another disease that wreathed and slithered like a snake, poisoning her father’s body and stealing her own freedom.

She’d done the only thing she could. She pretended she wanted to stay and take care of her father, refusing to leave him with a full-time nurse. The only money they had left was tied up in the estate. And, after all, she was good at taking care of people.

Not counting herself.

“Yet you’re still here.” His words were thoughtful, as if trying to solve a puzzle as she worked on his wound. “Your parents are gone now. Why not leave?”

The ultimate question. Asked, yet not answered. The response tripped over her lips in a desperate attempt to escape. She strangled the words and let them die without a trace. “I don’t know.”

She tested the bandage and was satisfied. Her gaze lifted.

And collided with a full-sized predator.

His eyes were the dark whiskey gold her father liked to pour in heavily cut crystal glasses. Liquid fire, potent and seething with heat. His gaze assessed her story and challenged her for the truth. “I don’t believe you. I think you know exactly why you’re still here.”

She retreated behind a wall of ice, refusing to let the sexual heat between them melt her defenses. She had one goal, and a gardener wasn’t going to distract her at this point. “We’re done. You can go back to work.”

Carved lips curled up a notch. His masculine energy pressed down on her and she battled to hold her ground. “I think,” he said, “that you’re so comfortable behind these walls you’ve given up on living.”

“Coming from a handy man with a Peter Pan complex.”

He laughed and shook his head as if in admiration. “Damn, love, you’re a bit of a spitfire all buttoned up tight. How long has it been since you let a man put his hands on you? Or in you?”

The image knocked out her breath. Her almost virginal body fought for dominance as liquid warmth pulsed between her legs and dampened her panties. Her nipples rose painfully against her bra and demanded freedom. She crossed her arms in front of her chest to hide her reaction.

“Oh, surely you can do better than that.” Her tone dripped icicles. “This is straight out of a book, Mr. Wolfe. Poor spinster locked up in a big old house meets sexy gardener who sets her body free. She’s forever grateful for the experience. Blah, blah, blah. Now, if you rather not get back to work, we will consider your job null and void and you can leave my home.”

“Ah, so you did read Lady Chatterley’s Lover?” he drawled. Slowly, he uncurled over six feet of muscled length and rose from the seat to tower over her. “D.H. Lawrence is one of my favorites. ’Course, I’m the gardener rather than the gamekeeper. And you’re forgetting the husband—which you don’t have. The rest is similar. Uneducated working-class man shows sexually deprived wife how to let go and be free to let her body experience pleasure.”

He paused. Dropped his voice to a rough whisper that raked across her nerve endings like fingernails against naked skin. “Wanna play?”

Her heart pounded so loud the sound in her ears dimmed. “Excuse me?”

He laughed. In one swift movement, he reached out and snagged her wrist. Then tugged hard.

Slightly off balance, she stumbled toward him, where he neatly caught her by the waist and trapped her between himself and the sink. The edge of the marble dug into her back when she tried to retreat. Raw masculine energy assaulted her senses, the sheen of sweat on his bare chest, a mass of carved muscles pressed against the curve of her breasts. The scent of dirt and fresh grass and musk rose to her nostrils in an animal attempt to entice her to mate.

“Role play, love. Do you know the things I could teach you? Give me one night and it’ll all be for you. I’ll strip you naked and suck on these nipples until they’re aching and ruby red.”

His fingers tweaked one rigid tip and a streak of raw lust speared between her legs and almost made her moan. Almost.

“I’ll pry your legs open and press my tongue against your clit, taste your wetness, and make you come so hard against my mouth you’ll only be able to utter my name.” His hand slid down the front of her body to cup her mound through her jeans. The heat of his palm burned and she jerked upward, her juices exploding and her clit pounding, as if she could orgasm by the mere image of his tongue in her pussy.

But she was not defeated.

She desperately reined in her body and managed to speak. “Take your hands off me.”

“Ah, you’re a talker. I can tell by your eyes you like to hear the words, like a true poet. Let me tell you what I want to do right now.” He held her still and pressed his thumb over her lips in a rough caress. “I’m going to unbutton these jeans and rip off your panties. Turn you around so your naked ass is exposed. Then I’m going to bend you over, thrust inside your wet pussy and make you come so hard you won’t remember another man before me.”

The world spun. She fought like a maniac for some kind of reality, reminding herself he was a common gardener who was looking for a quick lay. Probably had a million diseases.

“Mr. Wolfe, I want you to leave now.”

“God, you’re cute. Might as well call me Jack.”

“I will not be having sex with my newly hired gardener. I’m not that type of woman.”

His eyes danced with a merry wickedness that made her crave to slap him. “I think that’s exactly your problem. Obviously, you haven’t had an orgasm in a while. Probably why you’re so uptight. Nothing wrong with taking advantage of me while I’m here. I don’t mind.”

“Out. Now. Unless you want me to scream or call the police.”

“Okay.”

Her legs almost buckled with sheer relief at her victory, but then a full male grin transformed his face and he lowered his head.

“I’d like to hear you scream. Don’t panic. I promise this won’t hurt a bit.”

Then his mouth took hers.

Julianna didn’t have a chance. It was the Alamo all over again. Warm, capable lips molded perfectly to hers and with one push, his tongue slipped into her mouth. Like a marauding pirate, he conquered and enjoyed his territory, his hot tongue thrusting in and out in a teasing game before he dove deep and claimed his treasure. She tried to move away, but his fingers gripped the sides of her head in a gentle pressure and kept her still. Over and over he sipped and explored, learning her taste and texture, luring her deeper into a pool of sensation.

His hands coasted down from her head and dipped into the collar of her shirt to caress her breasts. A moan escaped her lips at the delicious sensation of hard male fingers against her sensitive curves. The fabric of her bra was pushed aside as his thumbs manipulated her nipples in a crazy friction that drove her mad. Her hips arched in demand, her control shredded, and her hands clutched at his naked shoulders and dug her nails deep into solid muscle.

“God, you’re a hellcat masquerading as a mouse.” He caught a whimper from her lips and kissed her deeply. “You’re practically burning up in my arms. Come with me.”

He pulled away, took her hand and began leading her out the door. To her bedroom.

To her bedroom.

Reality crashed back and she cried out. She lifted her hands in a half-attempted defense and took a few steps. “Don’t.”

He stopped in his tracks. Slowly turned around. Then cursed under his breath. “I knew I should’ve picked you up. I’m such an ass.”

“I can’t do this.”

One bleached brow lifted. “Why not?”

Julianna shook her head and breathed hard. Her body felt painfully irritated—desperate for sexual relief. In a matter of days, her careful barriers were destroyed because of her desire for a quickie with a man she wanted but did not respect. The truth stumbled out of her mouth in her desperation for distance.

“There are things you don’t know. I can’t have an affair with someone right now. I’m looking for a serious relationship. I want to get married.”

That threw him for a second or two. “To anyone in particular?” he asked slowly.

“Not yet. But I don’t intend to have an affair, not when I could meet my husband tomorrow.”

Another hearty laugh escaped him, which made her frown. “Sweetheart, you may not meet your husband for years. Are you going to lock your body in a prison until then?”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “I’m going to meet him soon and I can’t afford to be distracted.” She dug deep and threw her words like weapons. “You’re a nobody. A common gardener with a hard-on who probably bangs every client you find halfway attractive.” She lifted her chin and her gaze raked over his figure with deliberate mocking. “Sure, you’ve got a great body, but I’m not going to mess up my chances of a real marriage with a real man for a quick screw with you.”

Temper gleamed in his eyes, but she forced herself to finish. “I’m going to marry someone with refinement, education and money. God forbid anyone should find out I’ve had an affair with my handyman. So, do I have to ask you again? Keep your hands away from me, or leave.”

The gloves were off and thrown in the figurative ring. He stared at her hard for a few moments, his face unreadable. Then with a mocking grin, he gave a salute. And as if picking up the glove and tucking it in neatly into his pocket, he said, “Yes, ma’am.” He walked with long easy strides right past her and to the door. Then paused. “I’ll be finished by the end of the week.”

The door shut behind him.

* * *

Bryce Sinclair settled back on the overstuffed pillows and watched the naked servant girl duck her head in shame. Triumphant satisfaction thrummed through him. “Look at me,” he commanded.

She obediently raised her gaze. He studied her in silence, noting her young skin, silky long hair, and not so innocent mouth still dripping from his explosion. She gave a good blow job—her mouth perfectly tight—but she was still underdeveloped. Her mother had serviced him well only a few hours earlier. The thought of getting them in bed together fluttered past him and he filed it for later use. Young women were such a challenge to break, but once used a few times, the lure of the game tarnished.

“Now go tell your mother what we did together.”

Her mouth fell open and tears gathered in dark depths. “But, but, I can’t! She would kick me out if she knew… you made me! You—"

“I’m done with you.” He waved his hand in disgust. “You were sniffing after me for weeks and I only gave you what you wanted. If you don’t do what I ask, I’ll hurt her again.” Her face transformed into a mask of fear. The power shuddered through him and made him semi-hard. “That’s right,” he said softly. “And you know I’ll do it. In all the places where no one will ever know. And if you both don’t please me, I’ll make sure you have no job at the castle. Or anywhere else.”

A flash of temper shone in her gaze. Bryce watched with interest, but it quickly flared out and she was once again submissive. She left and shut the door behind her, leaving him to his thoughts.

He was so bored.

He reached for his glass of champagne and sipped, enjoying the feel of the satin sheets against his nakedness. In fact, he enjoyed looking at his own body, knowing it was perfection granted him like a gift from the Gods. He knew his dark hair and gray eyes challenged women to unveil the mysteries beneath. He kept his body rock hard with daily workouts and a strict eating regimen. His only downfall was his love of alcohol and the occasional snort of cocaine.

He glanced at his lavish bedroom decorated in rich reds and gold. A room for a king. Unfortunately, he’d never be close as long as his cousin reigned.

Anger burned hot and bright and his fingers tightened against the stem of the glass. Once his dear old uncle finally kicked the bucket, he thought it would finally be over, the endless rivalry to outwit his cousin, only to always be ranked second best. It reminded him of that awful American show, Survivor, where good triumphed even when evil deserved the prize.

There was something going on with Jack. Bryce sensed a rat a football field away. His cousin had disappeared shortly after his father died, and Aunt Victoria refused to elaborate on his whereabouts. Knowledge gleamed in her eyes, but he hadn’t been able to break her yet. Whatever it was, he needed the information. If he made one misstep, the kingdom of Woodward Shipping would never belong to him. And he’d be working for Jack for the rest of his pitiful life.

He’d die before that happened.

Bryce loathed his cousin more than anyone else on the earth. When they were been young, he’d thought they would be allies and rule the world. Instead, his cousin showed a disgusting softness, especially around women. When Jack found him forcing one of their classmates to give him oral sex, his cousin went crazy, threatening to tell everyone in the family and shut him out for good. Bryce’s mother never stood up to Aunt Victoria. He’d been trapped like a wolf around a bunch of sheep, forbidden to feast. Instead, he starved and he learned. He searched for weaknesses and played his games with stealth.

He detested most women and the way they used sex to their advantage, then screamed foul play. There had been many he’d taught a valuable lesson. They cried rape, but he quickly adjusted their notion, knowing the favor he courted with his aunt and uncle. He was second in command of one of the biggest shipping companies in England. The world belonged to him if he could only prevent his cousin from taking a wife and providing an heir.

The phone rang and interrupted his thoughts. Bryce glanced at the number and clicked on his Palm. “You found something.”

A pause. “Yes, sir. He’s hiding in Newport, Rhode Island. Took a ship and has it docked in town.”

Bryce frowned and tried to figure out the puzzle. “Why?”

“Not sure, sir. I’ve been trying to get Lady Victoria to confess, but she’s been tight lipped, even around the servants.”

“Email me a full report. I want to know every move Jack has made so I can figure this out.”

“I’ll send it now.”

He waited a few minutes, and then his phone buzzed. He quickly glanced through the highlights and found a name. Julianna Waters. He had no idea who she was or even if she was important, but it was a good place to start. If Jack planned to spring a surprise engagement, Bryce needed to stop it. He’d lose everything and always be in his cousin’s shadow.

He quickly buzzed his contact and gave him clear instructions.

Then he lounged back on the pillows and contemplated taking a necessary trip.

Chapter Three

"Can I help you? Oh, hi love. What'll you have?"

Julianna stared at the man behind the bar and pursed her lips. “Where’s Mike?”

He grinned at her obvious annoyance and lowered an eyelid in a naughty wink. “He had a thing he needed to go to with his wife. I told him I’d cover his shift. Let me guess. White wine? Pinot Grigio or Chardonnay?”

Julianna bit her tongue. Hard. “Martini, extra dry, extra olives.” She swore she’d drink the whole damn thing if it killed her, and tried not to look longingly at the bottle of white wine she preferred.

He lifted a brow. “You got it. Not driving, are you?”

She bristled and turned to her companion, whom she’d forgotten when faced with her irritating, sex-god gardener. “Tom, this is my handyman. What would you like to drink?”

“Stout, please. Guinness.”

Jack poured, shuffled glasses, and served with an economy of motion and grace. The scents of perfume, heat, and alcohol burned through the air as the crowd thickened in the late evening hour. The marina bar courted a tourist crowd. She had scheduled this first meeting with Tom in a public place where she wouldn’t have to worry about the locals. After all, he was the first official response to her ad. So far, dinner had been a polite, quiet affair with no sparks. She figured a crowded bar might loosen him up a bit, so she’d suggested a quick drink before ending the evening.

Unfortunately, her companion sat on the bar stool, tight-lipped and unsmiling. He glanced around the rustic, slightly dirty waterfront bar as if he smelled something bad. When he paid for the drinks, he didn’t tip. She squirmed and quietly pushed a ten dollar bill across the bar while Jack wasn’t looking.

“Interesting place.” Tom said. “I prefer the New York scene, of course. Happy hour is always quite raucous.”

She nodded. “Yes. I’ve always wanted to see the city.”

Silence.

She watched Jack from the corner of her eye while she searched for more conversational topics. Obviously, he had met many new women this past week. A line of blondes and brunettes laughed at his jokes, cooed over his English accent, and generally made themselves available for a late-night date. She twitched her nose in disapproval. Jack Wolfe didn’t seem to care who shared his bed, as long as she was warm, female and willing.

At least he’d stopped sniffing around her place. Thank goodness.

She drank the rest of her martini and a pleasant heat buzzed through her, allowing her to relax a notch. Tom finished his drink, then stood. “Well, I have to get back early in the morning, so I better say good night.”

She fought past the disappointment. “Of course.”

Jack suddenly appeared. “Another?”

“No, thank you, we were just leaving.” To prove a point, she grabbed Tom’s hand and forced a merry laugh. She went to walk him out, but he stopped her at the doorway.

“I’ll email you and we’ll discuss possible arrangements for marriage.”

Julianna blinked. The beat of the jukebox blared and pumped out Nelly’s “Hot In Herre.” “I thought, I thought we’d meet once more before making a decision.”

Tom shrugged, obviously bored. “I need a wife in order to climb up the corporate ladder. Damn company’s only promoting family men. I want someone who'll stay out of my life but be there for work events. I’ll give you the money for the house and we can arrange a wedding in the city. No big deal.”

She twisted her hands and fought off sheer panic. “Ummm, well, email me and we’ll see.”

“Fine. Nice to meet you.” He leaned over, placed a peck on her lips, and strode out the door.

Julianna stared at his retreating back, then glanced at the bar.

Jack stood with her empty martini glass in one hand, towel in the other. Whiskey colored eyes burned across the room.

She raised her chin and met his gaze head on.

Then turned her back and ran outside.

Gulping in breaths of salt water air, she went round the back and leaned against the side wall of the building. Damn him. Damn him for getting her body tied up in knots. Marrying Tom would be an easy business arrangement, but the idea of sleeping with him, let alone bearing him a child, seemed impossible. Not that he appeared interested in her. Maybe they'd each have their separate affairs like a true marriage of convenience. He was polite. He smelled like onions from dinner and had very weird eyebrows that sloped together into one, reminding her a bit of Groucho Marx, but she'd probably be able to stay at the Cliff House and only travel to New York on certain occasions. Actually, it seemed a perfect arrangement.

Despair hit her low and hard in the gut. Alone, she allowed herself to say the one curse word she loved and rarely uttered. “Fuck.”

“Didn’t know you had it in you, love.”

She whirled around. He stood behind her, framed in darkness. A bright orange glow appeared, and she watched him light a cigarette. He smoked with a lazy gracefulness that contradicted his working class stature. Gardener, handyman, bartender. Yet he spoke like an English aristocrat and seemed above petty day-to-day frustrations. The liquor burned through her veins and heated her temper.

“You shouldn’t smoke.”

He shrugged. “Shouldn’t do a lot of things that are fun.”

“What game do you think you’re playing?” she hissed.

Jack grinned and crossed one foot in front of the other as he leaned against the wall. “I’m not the one with a checklist for a husband. Tom seems like a real fun guy.”

She tossed her head. “He’s lovely. We’ll be seeing each other again.”

His lips literally twitched. “Obviously. Make sure he waxes his brows before the wedding.”

“You’re an asshole.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “Two curse words in one night. I must have broken all your records. Really, love, give yourself more credit. Are you that hard up?”

“You’re fired.”

She spun on her heel to march away, but he grabbed her arm and spun her right back. The delicious scents of rum and smoke and male arousal swam around her. He loomed tall and muscular and dangerous, and her body thrilled to the raw power. Her breath caught, her nipples rose, and her pussy throbbed with anticipation. He seemed to literally smell her arousal like a big bad wolf ready to mark his mate. His nostrils flared.

“When are you going to let yourself go?” He lowered his voice to a hypnotic demand. “You teach poetry, for God’s sakes. Too much control and the writing lies flat and lifeless. Look at you. You’re practically shaking with need. I can make you shatter just by slipping my hand down your pants.”

Julianna fought for breath, fought for control, fought for sanity. As if taming a wild stallion, he pressed his lips to her temple in mock gentleness, then spoke against her ear.

Sex contains all, bodies, souls,

Meanings, proofs, purities, delicacies, results, promulgations,

Songs, commands, health, pride, the maternal mystery, the seminal milk,

All hopes, benefactions, bestowals, all the passions, loves,

beauties, delights of the earth….

She shook hard, on the verge of an actual orgasm. The slow slide of his tongue over her lobe teased and taunted, and Julianna clawed for control. His low wicked laugh told her he knew how bad she wanted him. Still, she refused to yield and forced out her words. “Where did you learn that poem?”

“Walt Whitman literally drips sex onto the page. A Woman Waits For Me. I happen to be read in other things besides Dr. Seuss. But I guess I’m still not good enough for you. Quoting poetry and making you come means nothing without money.” With a sneer he stepped back. “Enjoy your night.”

He walked away and left her. Aching. Empty.

And alone.

* * *

Jack took a long pull of beer and gazed out at the ocean, his feet propped up on the back deck. The Schooner cut through the water with steadfast smoothness and grace. The sails hugged and caught the wind, and the lights of the horizon flickered in the distance.

He wanted her.

The knowledge twisted his belly with disgust. The irony was almost too much. He searched for a woman who’d love him for himself. Yet, he bodily craved one who was the literal poster image of a greedy, shallow socialite wanting to marry for the exact wealth and title he possessed.

She pissed him off. Her date had barely looked her in the eye, let alone bothered to see past that horrible outfit she wore. For God’s sakes, jeans and tank top would have looked sexier than that buttoned-up floral number. The fabric covered her from neck to ankle.

He cursed under his breath. Why the hell did he care? He had a dozen phone numbers in his pocket. Some were more suited to one-nighters, but the other half might contain the number of his future wife. Julianna Waters was a dead frikkin end.

But she called to his sense of challenge. He wanted to be the first to claim her virginal lure. The hunger in those seething dark eyes made him crave to touch her and bring pleasure. He yearned to wipe the polite façade from her face and unearth the glimmer of passion and rawness hiding beneath. When he quoted Whitman, he’d almost had her. The connection surged hot and strong, and she’d been ready to crumble. But his temper reared. For God’s sakes, her mission to marry a man with money trumped all other impulses—even pleasure.

He put the beer down and focused on re-tacking the sail to change direction. The tangy scent of salt water calmed his nerves. The ocean had roared in his blood since youth, and often when he was uneasy or needed to clear his thoughts, sailing was the only activity to bring him calm. Once he married and the company had the necessary stability, he planned on travelling for most of the year, especially to the ports in the US where his heart now lay. Newport soothed his soul. He missed his father, especially out on the water when he felt a piece of himself was missing.

Time to rebuild. Time to step up, claim his heritage, and be the man his father always wanted. If he found someone to love within the marriage, his life could be complete. If not, he’d do his duty, but he’d crave his soul mate for the rest of his life.

He finished his beer and headed back to the harbor.

An image of half parted lips and sleepy dark eyes haunted him. He fought the impulse to hunt and bury his aching cock inside her.

There would be no sleep tonight.

* * *

Julianna pushed the covers back and climbed out of bed. Her nightgown stuck to her body, damp with sweat from her dream. The walls of the Cliff House closed around her, pulsing like in the Haunting of Hell House and drove her through the doors.

She stood on the pathway. A sliver of moon peeked behind the drifting clouds, and lights sprinkled down the walkway, past the ocean’s cliff illuminating a dim beacon that allowed her to pick her way along the cobblestone path. Instinct pushed her to follow the familiar route and avoid the sharp drops and hidden cracks until she perched by the heavy rocks.

Julianna gazed out at the night, her body burning as if fevered. Her nightgown twisted around her bare legs and the cool breeze rushed between her thighs, inciting more heat. She swallowed a sob and cursed the man who’d dragged her sexual needs into the light of day.

She wanted him. Right or wrong, he was the first man who’d declared he wanted to claim her and bring pleasure. Her experiences were few and far between. She’d lost her virginity on a second date in a car. A few fumbling attempts and one thrust completed the experience. He’d never spoken to her again and she hadn’t cared. A brief affair with a man her parents hoped she’d marry had given her no gratification. He’d been proper in public and messy in private. Again, she’d been left cold and unsatisfied as he lay sated beside her. Her masturbation attempts were more satisfactory, but they left her burning for more fulfillment, her fingers never quite able to soothe the wild beast inside.

The years caring for her parents finally took its toll and slowly stripped away her sexuality. She’d wrestled those messy emotions into a cold, dark corner and the yearning finally receded.

Until Jack.

The waves screamed and the moon gleamed. Safe in the darkness, she cried out in frustration as her blood heated for a man’s hands on her body. She ripped the pins from her hair and let the wild waves blow in the breeze. Her hands cupped her breasts, massaging them through the thin cotton material, and with an animal moan she ripped down her bodice.

Her nipples ached and pebbled in the cool air. She pinched them and arched back, reveling in her brief nakedness. The crash of the waves against the rocks drove her on and she yanked up her gown, parted her legs, and slid her fingers inside her panties.

She was swollen and aching for something she couldn’t have. Her lips cursed his name as she parted her slick folds and rubbed the swollen nub, back and forth, the steady rhythm tightening the tension inch by inch until her orgasm rushed forth. Her cry echoed over the cliffs as she climaxed. Tears leaked down her cheeks at the release, even as she recognized the empty ache inside her pussy could only be filled by a man. She lay on the rocks for a while, legs splayed, and waited for the control to seep back into her body. Finally she pushed her nightgown back down and rose, a bit unsteady. With a determined breath, she picked her way back to the pathway.

Then froze.

He stood before her, a dark looming figure silhouetted against the rise of the cliff. Julianna sucked in her breath as waves of sexual energy hit her full force. He kept completely still, every muscle locked tight, yet there was a predatory aura in his stillness that tempted her to run. As if he sensed her impulse, he closed the distance between them and the moonlight lifted the shadow from his face.

“No.” The word broke from her lips in her last attempt to deny what he wanted to claim. She knew it was useless—knew in that moment she’d give herself to him and whatever he wanted from her. Her starved body took control and her brief denial drifted uselessly on the ocean breeze to disappear forever.

Lion eyes glowed hot and bright as his gaze took in her wrinkled nightgown, the gaping bodice that revealed one naked breast, and her trembling lips. He reached out and gripped her hand. Slowly, he lifted her hand and breathed in her spicy scent, still damp from pleasuring herself. A growl rose from his throat and he pulled her hard against his chest, locking her against him with an easy masculine power that shook her to the core.

“I came for you tonight, Julianna.” His voice beckoned and hypnotized, hot and creamy and slow as it dripped over her ears and naked skin. “I watched you touch yourself, but it’s not enough, is it? You need me. Need me to slake the burn.”

He reached around and twisted his fingers in her hair, then tugged hard.

Julianna gazed up at his face filled with determination and erotic promise. She surrendered.

“Yes.”

His grip on her tightened in pure triumph. “I’m going to give you what you want. What we both want.” He leaned over her and his breath struck her lips. “Say my name. Say it now.”

“Jack.”

His mouth crushed hers. She clung to him as he plundered her mouth like a primitive warrior intent on crashing down her defenses. His tongue thrust, his teeth bit hard into her lower lip and made her cry out. He bent her backward over his arm and held her off balance while he ravished her mouth with no mercy and little gentleness.

A flame flared to life and burned bright, pushing her to meet him halfway. She gave it all back to him with an animal wildness that exploded. Her nails dug hard into his shoulders and her tongue tangled and battled until she gasped for breath and felt as if her very sanity slipped away.

He ripped his mouth from hers, bent down, and lifted her over his shoulder. With long, easy strides he walked back to the house, down the hallway, and into her bedroom. He shut the door with a quick kick and dropped her on the bed.

“Take off your nightgown.”

She blinked. Her initial shyness faded under the hard glitter in his eyes that commanded her to do it and do it quickly. Her heart pounded as she pulled the gown over her head and tossed it on the floor.

“Now the panties.”

Wetness pooled and dripped between her legs. Her fingers shook and she paused.

“Do it.”

Julianna swallowed hard and slid them down her legs, lying completely naked on the bed. The abandon of letting a man see her vulnerable made excitement race her heart and heat her blood. Her nipples hardened and her breath came hard as she waited.

“Jesus, you’re gorgeous. Now, lie back and spread your legs.”

She blinked at him, torn between years of restraint and her need to give him everything he asked for. As if he knew the inner battle that waged, he took a step toward the bed and loomed over her.

“Let yourself go, love. I’m not going to hurt you. Now, do what I say or I’ll punish you later.”

A primal thrill speared her belly at his threat. She sensed the erotic dominance and ached to surrender. Julianna lay back on the pillows and spread her legs wide. He murmured his approval and took off his clothes. She felt his dark, hungry gaze probe every inch of her naked body, and then he was lying on the bed next to her.

“Very nice.” His approval flushed her skin a dark red as she let him drink his fill. He fanned her long dark hair out on the pillow, then coasted his hands lightly down her body. She flinched as her nipples pushed against the gentle touch for more, but he kept moving downward, caressing her soft belly, thighs, under her knees, all the way to the soles of her feet. Then back up his fingers glided, to rest on her inner thighs. She tightened with need and anticipation, but he only pushed her legs apart wider, so her pussy opened. Julianna moaned and felt her juices drip. Her clit throbbed for attention.

“You have a beautiful pussy,” he whispered darkly, taking one finger to part the folds of her lips to reveal her clit. “Pink and wet, perfect for my tongue to massage. But you didn’t wait for me tonight, did you, Julianna? You took your own fingers and pleasured yourself, so you have to be punished first. You’re going to have a long time to wait before I give you satisfaction.”

“Jack—”

“Shhh, no talking. Do what I say and I’ll let you come. Now, let me suck on these gorgeous breasts.”

Keeping her legs wide open but avoiding her center completely, he eased to the side and gave her tits full attention. His breath teased one crown while his fingers massaged the other one. Julianna sank deeper and deeper into a pit of hellfire, every inch of her body sensitized and waiting for his touch. He used one thumb to flick her nipple back and forth while his tongue circled and played gently with the other. She arched upward, desperate to feel her pussy against his hard thigh for some relief, but he used one muscled leg to lock her in place. Still, he played with her breasts, taking the tight tips into his mouth to suck hard, scrape his teeth, and then soothe with his tongue.

“Oh, please, Jack, please—”

With a low laugh of pleasure, he shifted his weight and moved downward. “Oh, I will please, baby. You taste like vanilla ice cream. I’m going to lick every last inch of you, but not your pussy. You’ll have to wait.”

Sanity began to fade as he tasted the sensitive curve of her neck, dipped his tongue into her navel, nibbled on her public bone. Still, he kept her legs splayed and gave her no relief, only his hot breath stirring her swollen flesh as he explored her thighs and ran his tongue close to her aching heat.

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded, as he kept her bucking hips down in a punishing hold.

“Please lick my pussy.” Her verbal and physical constraints burst forward in a flood of erotic need. “Make me come, oh, God, Jack, please.”

“Very nice.”

He took his fingers and held apart her swollen lips. Bent forward. Breathed hard on her engorged folds. Then dipped his head.

His wet tongue surged forward and licked her clit. She cried out as he used a steady pressure that slowly increased, swirling his tongue around and around as his fingers thrust hard and deep. The pressure on her clit and the driving force of his fingers drove her mad, and her head thrashed from side to side in an agony of pleasure. Suddenly, the orgasm ripped through her and she screamed, her hips bucking against his mouth as he kept the pressure on and swallowed her through the convulsions.

Her body jumped and shook in the aftershock, and then she heard the sound of ripping as he sheathed himself with a condom. He rose over her like a wild stallion, his erection pulsing and enormous between her wet thighs.

“Say it,” he commanded, his eyes wild with hunger.

“Put your cock inside me now," she urged. "Take me hard."

With a satisfied murmur, he surged forward and buried himself to the hilt. Julianna gasped at the tightness and her body struggled to accept him after all the years without a man. She instinctively tried to push him away, but he soothed her with gentle caresses and waited for her body to release. She felt her inner muscles loosen and relax at the enormous size of him. And then the pleasure hit.

He moved slowly at first, getting her body used to the fullness, but she felt the pleasure steadily build again as her body milked him with her juices. He cursed under his breath, something dirty, and she arched, her feet hooked tightly around his hips. He slid completely out of her, caressed her sensitive nub, then surged back. The pace built until she was again at the edge of orgasm, desperate for the relief only his cock could give her. She urged him for more, but he laughed low and kept teasing her, wringing strangled cries from her lips as she reached hard for release.

His hands tweaked her hard nipples. His cock drove harder and harder, and she got closer until she screamed his name and he finally gave in. With one last thrust, she dived over the edge and heard his hoarse shout as he followed. Her muscles contracted and squeezed mercilessly around him and he slumped over her. His skin was warm and damp, and already she felt darkness slipping over her as her body surrendered to the sensual beating. His arms rolled her close and tucked her in, and then she drifted to sleep with his name lingering on her lips.

* * *

Jack stared at the naked, sleeping woman beside him. He tamped down on the sense of pure triumph and possession streaking through his testosterone system. Always logical and able to sort out a situation, he admitted last night had been a mistake. Erect and uncomfortable, he’d sought a brisk walk along the cliffs to ease the tension. When he found himself at her window, he turned and saw her on the rocks. Half naked, head arched up to the sky, pleasuring herself. He knew in that moment he had to claim her body, despite his disgust for everything she was. His primitive instincts roared through him and civilization had no chance at survival. Jack made a quick decision to sleep with her and wring her out of his system. Then go on with his search for a real wife.

Julianna grunted in her sleep and smashed her face into the pillow. Unlike her ladylike tendencies in public, her private fantasies in the bedroom surpassed any of his expectations. She took everything he gave and begged for more. Jack looked down at his rock hard erection with dismay. His need for her wasn’t going away. Last night had only increased it. He knew before she woke, confused and upset at her impulsive decision to take the gardener to bed, he needed a plan. Something to disarm her defenses.

He left the bedroom and made his way into the fully stocked kitchen. He noted with amusement the organic whole bean coffee with a fancy espresso machine and got to work. He loved Americans and their joy for toys.

He made the coffee with quick, economical movements and brought in two cups. After his first sip, he grudgingly approved of the machine. It was the best damn cup of coffee he’d ever had.

Jack watched with pleasure as she lifted her head halfway up the pillow as the heady scent hit her senses. Slowly, one eye opened. She stared at him, perched half naked in the chair beside her bed. Jack watched the flicker of expressions cross over her face as the events of last night replayed in her mind. A chuckle strangled his lips when red hot color flooded her cheeks. She sat up.

“Good morning. I made coffee.”

She didn’t answer, focused on his wardrobe of black briefs and a morning erection. Ducking her head, she reached for the cup. “Good morning,” she said. “Thank you.”

He grinned with delight at her polite tone and wondered if she’d speak so properly if he had his cock deep in her throat. He pushed the thought aside and got to work before her defenses shot back up.

“I know you may be regretting last night. Probably thinking it’ll never happen again, it was a mistake, so on and so forth.”

She didn’t respond, but he knew he’d snagged her attention. “So, before we make a mess of our morning I’d like to offer you a proposal.”

One brow arched. He caught a glimmer of irritation from cocoa brown eyes, which only made him want to slam her back on the bed and kiss the expression off her face. “What proposal?” she asked.

“You want to marry someone with money.” He put up his hands as she opened her mouth to snap at him. “I’m not judging, just noting what you told me. I may not agree, but I certainly understand. A wanderer isn’t in the cards for your mate. But if last night was any indication, you need to let off some steam before you explode.”

He spoke fast. “Who knows what type of husband you’ll decide to settle down with? This is an opportunity for both of us to satisfy ourselves sexually without any expectations. I’ll be leaving in a few weeks. We’ll keep our affair a secret, and I’ll only visit you late at night. You pursue your proper husband, and I’ll finish my work here and move on. We’ll keep out of the public eye, there’ll be no nasty gossip, and you won’t ruin your reputation.”

She sipped her coffee and stared at him. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How do I know you’ll keep a secret?”

He dropped his gaze to her naked breasts, hanging heavy and ripe. Her nipples hardened immediately and stood to attention, practically begging for his mouth. He gave a low, wicked laugh as she yanked up the sheet to cover herself. “Because I want you and it’s an arrangement that suits us both.”

She tossed a heavy tangled mass of chocolate curls over her shoulder and challenged him. “How do you know my cravings aren’t slaked? Maybe I got you out of my system last night. Maybe it’s time for you to leave.”

Lust speared deep and hard. God, she was gorgeous. All flushed, soft skin and wet heat. She wanted to play games with a master. Damn, she had spirit. She never let a man peek beneath her surface. He stretched out his legs in lazy abandon as she watched him from heavily lidded eyes, halfway cautious. He reached for her cup and placed it on the table. “Maybe we should find out.”

He moved quickly. In seconds, he ripped off the sheet and pinned her to the mattress. He caught her wrists and held them high above her head while he held her down with one heavy thigh. She breathed hard, her mouth open slightly in shock. He kept his hold firm as he allowed his other hand to lazily trace the outline of her body, flicking her nipples, travelling downward to stop dip two fingers in her pulsing wetness. Her eyes darkened and she arched away from him, trying to free herself.

“Let me go.” Her words caught on a pant as he used his thumb to work her clit in a gentle, steady rhythm.

“I’ll give you one more minute to make your decision. Tell me to go again and I’m out of here.”

He covered his mouth with hers and drank in the heady taste of her while he continued to arouse. Her tongue tangled and battled with his as he fought for possession of her mouth, then celebrated his victory by marauding every last inch of her slick, hot entrance. Her juices flowed freely against his hand and she twisted wildly underneath him, desperate for more. When he pulled away, he no longer felt like playing. He waited.

“Tell me to go.”

She moaned, caught halfway to orgasm. Her fingers clenched against his and she gave him the words. “Don’t go. Take me.”

“You agree to the bargain? You belong to me at night. You do anything I say, any way I say it. Got it?”

“Yes. Please, Jack.”

“Get on top of me.”

He ripped off his briefs and flipped her over so she straddled him. He fitted himself with a condom, then guided her to take him, inch by slow inch. She gasped as he filled her, and his hands rubbed the ripe globes hanging down as he urged her on. When he was buried deep, she wiggled to adjust, and he almost lost it. Jack gritted his teeth, cursed viciously, and held onto his control.

“Now ride me. Hard.”

She threw back her head and rode him. He rubbed her nipples, then gripped her hips as she ground her clit against his cock, searching for the release. He reached between them and worked his fingers over her throbbing bud, slick and swollen. Then he felt her explode inside of him, her juices running over his dick as she clenched tight. She cried out as the orgasm took hold, and without a second thought, he followed her over the edge. His body shook as he let go, and then she slumped over his chest, breathing hard.

He remained quiet as he stroked her back, the skin pale and silky smooth. The luscious curve of her ass sat perfectly in his palm as he squeezed the tender flesh in a rough massage. She finally spoke.

“You drive a hard bargain.”

He laughed and gave her a quick slap, ignoring her yelp. “You’re too bossy. You need someone to take control sometimes.”

She huffed out a breath and lifted her head. “I’m not bossy.”

“Woman, you’d scare the hell out of a lesser man.”

She nibbled at her swollen lower lip. “Do I come off as too intimidating? Maybe I need to be a little more approachable?”

He laughed. “Julianna, I’m not giving you husband-hunting tips. Consider yourself warned.” He disentangled himself and stalked toward the bathroom. “I’m going to shower, than get back to work. I’ll see you tonight.”

She sat on the bed in a tangle of sheets, looking a bit shy and awkward. “I’ll wait for you here, then?”

“Yes, I’ll come to you. Make sure you’re naked and ready for me.”

She winced but nodded. He made sure not to look back and reminded himself this was a game. He refused to soothe or comfort her. She knew the rules—hell, she’d laid them out personally. He still needed to find his wife, but Julianna would be a pleasant diversion while in Newport, and his deception regarding his identity could be kept secret. No one would get hurt. She had no need to know he was the heir to millions, along with a juicy title. His lips twisted in irony as he turned on the spray. Thank God he’d realized her true colors before he became enchanted with a woman who was, at heart, a liar. Still, she’d gotten under his skin, and this was the best way to exorcise her demon.

Satisfied with his logic, he finished his shower and left.

Chapter Four

Julianna smoothed down the silk fabric of her black skirt with trembling fingers and took a deep breath as she stepped into the restaurant. Situated off the beaten path of the popular waterfront, it wasn’t a place where she would run into any of her neighbors. Lots of wood and shiny plank floors set off dim candlelight and a private atmosphere. Newport was incestuous in its own way. Wealthy families pried open every secret and liked to keep track of the local gossip. Her financial situation and her father's death made her a front runner until another local took the heat off. Thank God, summer made it more difficult for the nosy locals. With all the tourists flooding in, it was a little bit easier for her to hide.

She gave her name to the waitress and was led to a corner booth. She ordered a glass of Chardonnay, cursing herself for being perpetually early, and waited for her date.

Her ad had finally been answered.

The responses were limited and mostly grim. Besides Tom, she'd met a man who'd lied about his age, then shown up looking nothing like his picture and sporting a cane. With a dirty-old-man smile to match.

Her current date seemed quite handsome, if his photo was truthful. Their brief conversations over the Internet had gone well and flowed nicely. The coincidence that he was in Newport for business seemed Fate at work. They’d agreed to meet in person tonight to see if they could take the relationship further.

“Julianna?”

She looked up and smiled. “Yes. Bryce?”

He smiled back and shook her hand in a gentle, yet firm grip. Then he slid in the booth opposite her. “Sorry I’m late. I got held up in a meeting. I hope I didn’t keep you long.”

She shook her head, pleased at his dark good looks and professional appearance. The charcoal-gray suit was custom cut and emphasized a lean body. His black hair was kept ruthlessly short, and set off gray eyes with a bit of mystery gleaming within the depths. He seemed well polished, very different from a predatory handyman with no manners. She firmly pushed Jack’s image from her mind. “No, I have a terrible habit of arriving early for everything.”

“Nothing wrong with a woman who’s punctual. May I say you’re even more lovely in person than in your photo?”

“Thank you.”

They ordered drinks and spent a few minutes in casual conversation. “What brings you to Newport?” she asked.

“My family owns a shipping company based in England. We have sites scattered around the US, so I sometimes travel to check on things.”

“American women swoon over an English accent,” she teased. She thought of Jack's English accent and how his voice smoothed and curled over the ends of his sentences. Then pushed the thought away.

Bryce laughed. “Yes, I'm lucky in that area. So, I was intrigued by your ad. Is there a specific reason you need to marry now?”

She winced. “I’m sorry, this is still a bit hard for me. I’m not the type of woman to place a request over the Internet like some desperate fortune hunter. I’m in a unique situation and need to explore my options. My family has owned the Cliff House for generations. My family is an old one, but over time, we lost our fortune, leaving only our home. The Cliff House is mortgaged to the hilt. Before my father passed away, I promised him I wouldn't let our home be taken."

He cut into his steak and shook his head in sympathy. “I'm very sorry about your father, Julianna. This is a hard choice. Have you contacted the bank to see if something can be done? Life insurance? Any other options?"

"No. I went to several banks and they can't extend me any more loans. After the life insurance paid off the back taxes, nothing was left.”

“What a difficult position. So, I assume you're looking for money?

Julianna winced. "Yes."

"Just for the record, I don't think of you as a fortune hunter. You're doing the best you can to keep a promise to your father."

His tone soothed her and she forked up a piece of flaky fish. “Why did you answer my ad? I’m surprised you’re not already married.”

He smiled and took a sip of red wine. “I haven’t been ready to settle down yet. I wanted to learn the business from top to bottom, but now marriage has become more urgent. You see, my cousin is in line to inherit the business, though he’s not been involved. I’ve been running the company and care about the employees. If I marry first, I will have a better opportunity to take my rightful place in my family’s legacy.”

“That’s terrible. So, you do all the work and he gets the credit?”

He nodded sadly. “Exactly. I’ve been wanting to get serious with someone for a while now, but haven’t found the proper woman. When I read your ad, something called out to me. Almost as if we were meant to be. Fate.” He laughed as if mocking himself. “Sorry, don’t I sound ridiculous?”

She stared at him as the puzzle pieces clicked into place. An instinct deep inside her screamed a warning, but she strangled the voice and met her responsibility head on. This was the man meant for her. A man she could respect and talk with. A man to share her life. He was everything she needed and he’d showed up like an answer to her prayers.

A little too perfect, the voice whispered. And what about Jack?

She forced the thought away. “No, you don’t sound ridiculous at all.”

They finished dinner and he walked her out, one hand supporting her elbow. “I’ll be in Newport for a while,” he said. “I’d like to see you again. Take this a step further. What do you think?”

She turned and lifted her face. His dark good looks caused appreciation and a visual pleasure. When he leaned over and his lips touched hers, they were warm and knowledgeable. He smiled and a flash of white teeth cut through the darkness.

“Yes. I’d like that very much.”

“Shall I come to your house tomorrow?”

“No!” She backed up at his quick frown. “I mean, why don’t we meet here again tomorrow night? Seven?”

“Of course, if that makes you feel more comfortable.”

He kissed her again, tucked her into her car, and walked away. Julianna sat in the driver’s seat and squeezed her eyes tight. She needed to tell Jack she couldn’t see him again. Tonight. The image of his tanned and heavily muscled body caused flutters in her tummy, and lower. His glorious nakedness and his sexual control that allowed her to finally let go and be the woman she always craved.

But he wasn’t meant to be hers. Her father had sealed her Fate by his dying breath, and she had agreed.

Julianna started the car and drove back home.

Where Jack waited for her.

* * *

Bryce poured himself a generous snifter of cognac and settled back on the leather chair in the den. The rental reflected the rustic, ocean community with some tacky fishing gear on the wall and dockside souvenirs, but the house was big and situated in the woods outside of town, which allowed him to conduct his private business.

He enjoyed his drink and thought over the evening. The plan was ridiculously simple and as easy as taking candy from a baby. Once he was informed his cousin lusted after a local socialite, his private investigator had searched the home and hacked her computer. Her ad was a gift from the gods. In fact, the woman was perfect to be his wife. He’d court her, marry quickly, and cite her own ambition for money as the cause.

After all, his one goal was to marry before Jack.

Then take over the company.

The idea of bedding her after his cousin intrigued him. He’d be able to take her any way he wanted, on his terms, and Jack wouldn’t be able to stop it. The lovely Julianna was an innocent prize. He’d enjoy parading her in public and humiliating her in private. His own special torture sessions while his weak cousin looked on, unable to help her. Yes, this was getting better and better.

Perhaps, he’d allow her to continue sleeping with Jack while he courted her. They seemed to be careful keeping their relationship a secret. Bryce wondered if she’d tell Jack, or if she even suspected her lover was the wealthy heir to Woodward Shipping. The game could be played either way. Jack could be testing the waters to see if she was his choice of a mate, or Julianna could be just a piece of ass for the side. Bryce was eager to see how his cousin would handle the situation when he finally realized the stakes had changed. Still, his PI seemed to believe Jack was interested in the woman. Either way, he could use it to his advantage.

He rose at the knock at the door and opened it. The whore had long, blond hair, blue eyes, and an aggressive attitude he intended to change in the next few hours. She sauntered in, hips swinging, and made herself comfortable on the edge of the bed. Bryce was a bit disappointed in her blatant lack of innocence, but he needed to be careful regarding the local girls. Better use the prostitutes for discretion’s sake. Besides, he needed a challenge tonight.

“What would you like, baby?” she drawled.

Bryce smiled. His gaze took in her short leather skirt and skimpy blouse, searching immediately for the all the places he intended to bruise and punish her. He slowly walked to the bedside table and took out his handcuffs and the long whip. Her eyes widened slightly as he dragged the tail end through his fingers in anticipation.

“I’ll tell you exactly what you need to do. Obey me and I’ll double your fee. Don’t, and I promise you’ll live to regret it.”

Bryce relished the quick gleam of raw terror and moved towards her.

* * *

Julianna opened the door and threw her bag on the couch. With a sigh of relief, she kicked off her black heels and made her way into the bedroom. It was past ten, and she expected Jack soon. She’d have to tell him the truth. They couldn’t continue sleeping together if she began seriously dating someone, especially the man who might be her future husband. She thought about keeping the information to herself, but it wasn’t fair to either of them.

She loosened the pins holding up her hair and shook the heavy length free. Her fingers rubbed her sensitive scalp in a quick massage, then reached for the small Tiffany lamp.

“You’re late.”

Julianna gasped and whirled around. Over six feet of coiled male muscle stood in the corner of the room. Hands crossed over his chest. His usual attire of worn t-shirt and faded jeans clung to his body. His feet were bare.

“You scared me! How did you get in? I locked the door.”

“You need new locks. I told you to be ready and waiting for me.” His gaze raked over her figure, taking in her black skirt and the frilly floral blouse that left her arms bare. Temper flared like a pissed-off stallion, then eased as he seemed to blow it off. “Where were you?”

She nibbled at her lower lip. “On a date.”

He pushed himself away from the wall and stalked toward her. “Have fun?”

“Jack, we can’t do this anymore.”

He stopped in front of her. Reached out to snag a long dark curl, then twisted it slowly around his finger. The scent of musk and whiskey and grass assaulted her senses. “Why not?”

She shifted her feet like a nervous filly in heat. “Because he’s everything I’m looking for,” she blurted out. Heat rose to her cheeks as she fought to look him straight in the eye. Julianna hated being ashamed for selling herself for a price, but she’d do it with her chin up and refuse to flinch from the truth. “We’re going to see where this leads.”

“Good for you. But you’re date’s over. You’re mine now.”

Her heart slammed against her chest so hard she heard it over the drone of crickets drifting from the open window. “But I thought—”

He used the pressure on her hair to guide her head back and loomed over her. Resolve glimmered from amber eyes. “You thought wrong. Until you marry or I leave town, you belong to me at night. Get used to it.”

He covered her mouth with his. Warm lips probed hers, then surged into the silky wet cavern. She moaned as her body flamed and kissed him back. When he raised his head, his face was triumphant. “Do we understand each other?”

She was too weak to speak, so she managed a nod.

“Good. Now, take off your clothes and put these on.” He walked over to the bed and handed her two scraps of black lace. “You have five minutes. After that, I'm coming in."

He pushed her toward the bathroom door and Julianna obeyed. She held up the outfit and felt a mingle of fear and excitement shimmy down her spine. She’d never worn sexy lingerie, let alone paraded herself in front of a lover. The thought of exposing herself to his visual caused her belly to clench, but the clock was ticking and she didn’t want him to come after her. She quickly stripped and squeezed into the contraption. A sheer black lace thong barely covered her mound, and the top was a matching bra, except the bra part seemed to be missing. Her breasts squeezed and spilled into the empty holes where the padding should be, emphasizing the high thrust and ruby red nipples.

“One minute.”

His commanding voice drove her to open the door before she chickened out and begged for mercy. She walked slowly into the dimly lit room and tried to keep her head held high. She felt his eyes as a caress on every exposed inch of skin and the anticipation spiked her arousal. The musky scent of her juices drifted in the air.

“Beautiful. Your body was meant to be exposed, not hidden under layers of bulky clothing.” He tossed her a pair of black spike heels. “Put these on.” Julianna bent and slipped her feet into the shoes. He murmured his approval. “Now, turn around. Slow.”

Heat flushed her skin in humiliation but she did as told, spinning around in a circle as she felt cool air hit her ass like a kiss. She wanted his hands all over her, greedy and demanding and messy. She wanted no shred of civilization or propriety—only the sheer lust of a man who wanted to possess every crevice of her body.

“Good girl. Now, I want you to put your hands against that wall and spread your legs.”

“Jack—”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

She flinched, then settled herself against the wall. Her fingers clenched and her knees trembled slightly as she sought balance in the high heels. A rustle sounded behind her. A rush of his scent. Then warm, strong hands stroking back her hair and coasting down her back, as if soothing a wild mare. She moaned deep and her skin immediately burned. He kept his touch gentle, tracing the sensitive line of her spine, each curved buttock, the top of her thighs. He slipped a hand between her legs to push her thighs farther apart, then tested the wetness between her legs.

She gritted her teeth against the pull of those talented fingers as he teased her pink bud and coaxed more moisture to drip over his hand, then used it to lubricate her further, testing the limits of her control. She arched back in pure need, desperate for those fingers to push deep inside and then—

A sharp slap echoed in the room. She cried out at the hard sting on her bottom, then wiggled as the slight pain hit, followed by a rush of heat and pleasure. She lifted her hands from the wall and tried to turn.

“Back to the wall, Julianna. Don’t make me say it again.”

Her arms shook, but she resumed position. A wildness soared through her veins as she realized she had no control over what he could or would do to her. His hands drifted upward to play with her breasts. One finger traced the delicate lace around her areoles, scraping the fabric against her rigid nipples. Julianna fought for breath as his thumbs pinched, rolled, and worked the hard tips until they poked out in demand. He continued the caress and lulled her into a sensuous cocoon.

Smack.

She flinched as his hand came down hard on her naked ass. Julianna made sure to block her initial reaction of retreat and kept her hands on the wall. A low growl of satisfaction rumbled against her ear, and suddenly she felt him gloriously naked and pressed against back, his huge erection settling between her thighs. “Good girl. You deserve a reward.” He took off her thong, bent, and lifted her leg up, hooking her thigh over his arm. Fully exposed now, he used his other hand to push his fingers between her swollen folds to rub steadily back and forth. Pleasure squeezed her mercilessly as she strained for release. At the edge, she bucked her hips, and suddenly he ripped her away from the wall, bent her over his knee and smacked her ass with force.

Burning pain flooded her backside, then released another rush of juices. Once, twice, the punishing sting of his hand made her cry out. Before she caught her breath, he plunged four fingers into her, hitting her g-spot, and pushed her over the edge.

Julianna screamed and came hard, all the muscles in her body tightening and then convulsing with sheer pleasure. She slumped over his knee as he stroked her back and murmured soothing words in her ear. He gathered her into his arms and laid her on the bed, sliding next to her and pushing back her sweat dampened hair. “You’re amazing,” he whispered in her ear, his teeth nibbling on her sensitive lobe. “I have so much I want to teach you. But I’m not done yet.”

“I can’t, Jack.” Sated and limp, her eyelids felt heavy, but he shushed her and began to bring her back up. His fingers coasted with gentleness, and she felt wrapped in a cocoon of warmth as she floated. Incredibly, her body tightened again, waiting for more, wanting him, and he sheathed himself with a condom and plunged into her heat.

He stroked her with his cock, long and deep, building to a slow and steady rhythm that drove her already wrecked body to the final culmination. She climaxed again and with a hoarse shout, he followed her over the brink.

When Julianna surfaced, she found him sprawled halfway on top of her, one leg holding her down to the bed as if afraid she’d escape. She wiggled to a more comfortable position and he let out a groan, then rolled over.

“I think you killed me,” she said. She stretched one leg out, then another and wriggled her toes, still clad in stilettos.

“Part of my evil plan to keep you to myself.”

Julianna hesitated, unsure if he was joking. But he leaned over to drop a kiss on her nose, and gave her a smile. “Where did you learn to do all that?”

Jack laughed. “Let’s just say I’m glad you’re the beneficiary of my practice.”

She laid her head on his chest and wondered how she was able to give this man such a raw, honest response. She barely knew him. Julianna ached to ask a thousand questions, but fought the instinct and tried for casual. “What imported you from England to our humble town?”

He stilled beneath her. Jack remained silent for a few moments as if deciding how much to share. “My family owns a business and they want me to take over. I’m not ready to settle down yet, so I took off with my boat to do some travelling. Meet new people.”

Peter Pan syndrome. Just as she thought. “What did your parents think of your decision?”

“My father died recently, so it’s just my mom. She agreed to give me the time I need for myself.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know about your dad. Were you close?”

“Yes. We didn’t agree on certain issues, but he taught me how to sail. Taught me to be a man and take care of the things and people I love. I miss him every damn day.”

Her arms tightened around him and for a little while, she felt completely connected to the boy inside who just wanted his father back. “What’s your mom like?” she asked.

“Tough. Doesn’t let me get away with anything. Keeps the household and family together. Doesn’t take any crap.”

Julianna laughed. “A woman who gets the job done. Someone I can respect.”

“Was your mom always sick?”

She sighed, trailing her fingers down his chest. “When I was little, we had some great moments. She was spontaneous and fun and loving. She’d wake me up late at night and we’d sneak outside to lie on a blanket and look at the stars. She cooked fabulous six- course meals with sparkling china and fresh flowers. We dressed up in princess gowns and ate like royalty. I lived for those moments, but they came less often. I mostly remember not having lunch for school, or her forgetting to pick me up after a birthday party, or waiting outside her door because she spent days in her bedroom crying.”

“Who took care of you?”

She shrugged. “My dad. We had a few nannies, but they never stayed. Dad liked his privacy, especially since we never knew what mom would do. It became easier for me to take care of things. It was difficult for them when I went away at college my first year, so I ended up leaving at the end of the semester and finished my degree online."

“In poetry?"

“English literature with a concentration in poetry. I wanted to teach college, but for a full-time faculty job I’d need a PhD."

He grinned. "The first time I met you I thought, professor or accountant."

She made a face. "I know. I'm boring. Always was."

He grasped her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. Temper rippled from his figure, as if her last words irritated him. "What's your favorite poem?"

Julianna blinked. "I have many. Whitman, Moore, Lawrence—"

"Recite the first one that comes to mind."

She hesitated, then spoke slowly as the last few stanzas took shape.

This rare, rich night! For in here

Under the yew-tree tent

The darkness is loveliest where I could sear

You like frankincense into scent.

Here not even the stars can spy us,

Not even the white moths write

With their little pale signs on the wall, to try us

And set us affright.

Kiss but then the dust from off my lips,

But draw the turgid pain

From my breast to your bosom, eclipse

My soul again.

Waste me not, I beg you, waste

Not the inner night:

Taste, oh taste and let me taste

The core of delight.

Her breath caught as the sheer vulnerability of her poetic confession shook her. God, she’d practically confirmed her helpless need for his continued touch.

“What is it called?” he asked with a husky drawl.

“Liaison. D.H. Lawrence.” She forced a small laugh. “I thought it was appropriate with our situation.”

Raw emotion flickered over his face. "Out of all the poems, you picked one with physical passion. Openness. And truth.” He ran his finger gently down her check. "Don't ever tell me you're boring again, Julianna."

Entranced by his intensity, she lost her footing and gazed at him like a love struck teenager. Jack continued with his questions.

“So, you’ve never really left this house?"

It took a moment for her to regain her balance. “No. I was able to teach a few night courses for money here and there, but my father needed full-time care."

“Did you ever just want to run away from it all?”

She caught a wistfulness in his tone, an underlying question that seemed more serious than he posed. A thousand regrets and wants and dreams raced through her mind, then settled. “Yes. But I chose to stay. I made a promise to my father and I intend to keep it.”

“Even at the expense of yourself?”

Her fingers stilled on his chest. “Yes,” she said softly. “Even at the expense of myself.”

“What did you promise, Julianna?”

“Nothing important.” She rolled off the bed, kicked off the shoes, and grabbed a long terrycloth robe. “Are you hungry?”

He watched her cover her nakedness and firmly belt the sash. “For food?”

God, he was gorgeous. All lean muscle and tawny skin. He reminded her of a predator temporarily sated, but his eyes still gleamed with lazy warning, reminding her he could strike at any time. Heat speared down her belly and her thighs clenched in anticipation. “Yes, food. I worked up an appetite.”

“Sure. But I’m not done with you yet.”

Julianna shivered and led him to the kitchen. The open space boasted shiny marble floors, stainless steel appliances, and long pine counters and cabinets that took up one whole wall. Cheery yellow walls matched the flowers stenciled along the edges of the ceiling. He settled himself at the counter and watched while she pulled out a griddle pan and mix.

* * *

Jack wondered why this woman intrigued him. Clad in her shabby white terrycloth robe, she expertly whipped up pancake batter and poured perfect circles on the hot griddle. Her long dark hair was a tangled mess of waves that fell around her face. There was nothing extraordinary in her appearance. Her face scrubbed free of make-up, a smattering of freckles across her nose, Julianna moved around the kitchen gracefully, and the peacefulness soothed his soul. In the next moment, her robe gaped open and one ruby red nipple flashed him. Immediately he hardened, and the need to claim her resurfaced like a hungry wolf scenting his mate. On the surface, she was a gentleman’s dream. Cultured, polite, and self-controlled. Pleasant appearance. Correctly educated. The perfect wife. Yet underneath, the woman burned bright and hot. He put his hands on her and she melted, her chocolate eyes going warm and gooey, the spicy aroused smell of her rising to his nostrils. She was aggressive and passionate and messy. She loved dirty talk and wasn’t afraid of intimacy. Julianna Waters was a complete enigma, yet she intended to marry only for wealth, and that sickened his heart.

He shook off his disturbing thoughts as she plopped a pile of perfectly formed pancakes on his plate. The delicious aroma rose to greet him and he groaned as he poured rich maple syrup over his dish. “I can’t remember the last time I had pancakes,” he muttered between bites.

“Dinner was always chaotic, so midnight breakfasts were popular in my house. There was something about cooking in the middle of the night that made me happy. Everyone else asleep. No television or phones or computer. Just cooking and the silence of my thoughts.”

“That’s how I feel when I’m on my boat. Life suddenly makes more sense.”

“I love sailing. I don’t think you can grow up in Newport and escape a passion for boating and fishing.” She sighed and forked up a mouthful of pancakes. “I can’t remember the last time I went for a relaxing sail."

“I’ll take you.”

The invitation popped out of his mouth before he thought it through. Then he realized he wanted her to see his boat. Wanted to take her sailing. Maybe not practical, but if she was dating someone seriously, their time together was drawing to a close. He wanted to make love to her on his boat and burn her in his memory.

She looked surprised, then gave a casual laugh. “We'd break our deal. You only get me at night, remember?”

His temper surged at the reminder of his promise. He became more determined to have her on his own turf and own terms. “I’ll take you for a night sail. You can meet me at the dock tomorrow evening.”

Wariness skated over her features. “Oh, I don’t know—”

“I do. You do what I say from midnight to dawn.” He deliberately glanced at his watch and got up from the stool. His erection sprang to attention and elicited a gasp. He smiled with satisfaction. “We have a few hours left before morning.” He took the bottle of syrup and poured a few drops on the tip of his finger. She watched with fascination, her teeth pulling her lower lip in and nibbling.

“Now take off your robe. I feel like a different type of breakfast.”

A beat passed. Challenge sparked the air, and he waited for her decision.

The robe slid off her shoulders and fell to the floor.

Jack smiled and moved toward her.

* * *

Bryce tossed down the report and looked at his private investigator with irritation. The squat, bald man waited patiently, as he always did. Bryce detested the man’s appearance, as he detested anything not pleasing to his eye. But at least the man was loyal and kept his mouth shut. Blackmail and money bought a lot of favors. He’d had Peter do his dirty work for years now, and no one ever suspected.

“What’s the missing piece?” Bryce asked. He stared up at the ceiling, deep in thought. “Jack needs to marry in order to inherit. He’s sniffing around the lovely Julianna, yet she needs to marry someone with money to save the Cliff House." He gave a rich laugh he knew was quite pleasant to the ears. “Priceless. My dear cousin is playing pauper and she has no idea she’s sleeping with a prince. Why wouldn’t he tell her? He could have his lover and a wife and inherit it all.”

As usual, Peter didn’t speak, just waited for Bryce to figure out his own thoughts. A strange idea floated past. “Could it be he wants to find someone who loves him for himself? My God, he’s more foolishly romantic than I thought possible. She’s not telling him she needs to secure her home by marrying, and he’s not telling her he needs to marry to secure his own kingdom.”

Bryce threw his head back and roared with laughter. “Sheer perfection. Now I just need to decide how I want to play. Jack doesn’t know I’m here. What better way to spring it on him than having him discover us in public? Peter, secure an engagement ring. I’ll propose by the end of the week. She’s kept me off the radar for now, but that’s about to change. I’ll make sure we dine down by the wharf near Jack’s boat. I need everyone to know I’ll be proposing, and I need Jack in attendance. Do whatever you need to have him there at the correct time. My next date with Julianna will be one very amusing revelation.”

He slapped his hands together. “This calls for a celebration. Pour us a drink, Peter.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And get me a woman tonight. Not as weak as the last one. Her whining got on my nerves.”

His investigator paused in pouring the drink, then spoke tentatively. “Umm, sir, there's a problem. The last prostitute was high end, and the news of her, umm, condition, got out. You’re blacklisted from that particular establishment.”

“Are you telling me a two bit whore is crying foul play? She was paid dearly for her time. They make me sick. Find me someone young. You know where to go. And make sure she has no firm ties to any family around here.”

Peter cleared his throat. “That may be a bit difficult.”

“Have her here tomorrow night. I’ll need something to look forward to after another boring dinner with my cousin’s slut. The only thing getting me through it is my anticipation of breaking her in while Jack watches.”

"There's something else, sir." Bryce motioned for him to go on. "I finally got a copy of the contract Mr.Woodward drew up in his will. It does state Jack needs to marry to inherit, but there's one other clause we discovered."

"What clause?"

Peter hesitated. "If you marry first, you trump his inheritance. That's what Lady Victoria has been trying to hide."

The world suddenly righted itself. Victory thrummed through his veins, and all the hate and jealousy coursed freely as he realized he would finally get everything he deserved. On his terms.

Bryce smiled. "You're getting a fat bonus, Peter."

"Thank you, sir."

"Set up the arrangements. And get me a girl. Do whatever you need to do."

"Yes, sir."

Chapter Five

Her soft-soled shoes made no noise as she walked down the dock. The sound of boats gently bobbing in the water echoed on the soft breeze. A perfect summer night for a sail. Julianna wiped her damp palms down the sides of her gauzy cocoa skirt and cursed herself for acting like a sex-starved groupie. Why was she nervous? She’d done things with this man she never thought possible—including letting him lick maple syrup from her body, inch by inch. She had no shame left.

But tonight felt different.

She’d sail on his boat. Spend time in his sacred space. A bond with this man would make it more impossible to be unaffected when he walked away. For the past week, she’d been allowed to explore the secret depths of the woman she was and always dreamed of being. As much as she rationalized it, Jack Wolfe had carved away a part of her soul. She’d never forget him or the time spent transforming the Cliff House from a prison into freedom.

Her relationship with Bryce changed everything.

Things were getting more serious. All the core elements were there for them to move forward. His last conversation hinted at the importance of obtaining a virtuous wife. She assumed he’d done a background check on her and found everything in order. The only item she’d lied about was Jack and her secret sexual affair.

Tonight could be their last night together. She needed to break things off with Jack.

Julianna watched a lone dark figure make his way down the dock to meet her. Clad in white shorts, a button-down khaki cotton shirt, and boat shoes, he struck her as a rich socialite taking a spin on his yacht. He moved like royalty, with no apology and no hesitation. His sheer masculine presence whipped out and caught her in a painful grip, and she realized she’d never met a man who connected with her on such a sensual level. Instead of sating her craving, he only incited more hunger.

“Good evening.” His husky whisper rose to her ears in a caress.

“Good evening," she said.

“Follow me.” He led her down to the pier and stopped in front of an older Schooner. The elegant lines and chipped paint clearly showed an venerable lover who held more emotional attachment than value. A hand-painted sign proudly bestowed the name THE PRINCE. “This is it. Not much, but it’s got me where I wanted to go and never let me down.”

She smiled at his possessive words and motioned to the sign. “Care to elaborate?”

“Absolutely not. Let’s just say it’s an old family joke.”

Julianna perched on the edge of the dock and watched him ready the boat for sail. He moved with seamless grace, his fingers capably pulling and untying lines, his steps sure as he moved over the wet deck. He jumped lightly down and put out his hand. Julianna waited for the verbal invitation required to be spoken in the boating world, the way a vampire needs permission to enter a home.

“Come aboard.”

She gave him her hand and hated the instant sizzle of naked skin against hers, his thumb automatically rubbing into her palm to prolong the sensation. Her feet hit the deck and she withdrew. He allowed her the space and led her through the cabin for a quick tour.

The Schooner was small and well built. Bright white canvas sails adorned the sleek look of the wood. His space seemed functional but nothing more, and Julianna assumed he barely had enough money to survive from town to town. Definitely Peter Pan syndrome. Why else would a grown man refuse to get a job, have a family, and settle down? Still, she oughtn’t to judge. Her life was the complete opposite, and not her choice.

On the open deck, he’d set up a small folding table with a white cloth. Wine chilled in a bucket alongside crab and fresh corn on the cob. Paper napkins and utensils completed the casual dinner.

“I hope you don’t mind eating before our sail. I had back-to- back jobs today, so I didn’t have time to eat.”

“No, it’s perfect. Looks wonderful.”

The moon hung in a graceful crescent and competed with an array of stars. The breeze blew light, with a crisp sting that kept the body alert. She watched him pour wine and serve while she enjoyed the gentle sway of the boat and the endless blackness of ocean spread before her. They nibbled on crab and sipped wine in silence before she asked her question.

“Julianna, would you take off your top?”

Her glass paused in mid-air. “Excuse me?”

His smile was pure amusement and wicked intent. “You heard me.”

“Someone will see.”

“It’s midnight. No one’s out here, and soon we’ll be setting sail. I thought about you all day. Thought about licking sweet sugar from your breasts while you cried out for me to stop. Do you remember how long I pleasured your breasts? How sensitive to each bite and lick you became?”

Oh, God, yes. She remembered it all. Already on command, her body slammed into full alert, awaiting his every instruction.

“I want to eat while I gaze at you half naked. I want to know I can reach out and touch you at any time, and that soon I’ll have you.”

It took a moment for her fingers to stop trembling. Then she set down her glass and pulled off her tiny white t-shirt, exposing a lacy crème bra.

“Now the bra.”

She unhooked the back clasp and revealed herself.

“Good girl,” he murmured. He took a sip of wine and devoured her with his gaze. “You hide your body behind such boring clothes. Your skin tastes like vanilla bean ice cream. Your nipples are rosy and flushed, and you fit perfectly in the palms of my hands. Now I want you to remove your underwear.”

She fought a blush, amazed she had any shred of modesty left after the week they’d shared. “How do you know I’m wearing underwear?”

“Because you like it when I make you take it off.”

She sucked in her breath. Then hiked up her skirt to wiggle out of the plain white panties she’d desperately wanted to upgrade.

“Well done. Now, about the retaining wall.”

Julianna assumed he was joking. Every nerve ending felt raw and exposed, and her pussy throbbed to have him thrust deep inside her. Unfortunately, he wasn’t joking. He launched into a detailed description of the project, the cost, and the time period. She tried desperately to listen, but her body screamed louder than her mind and became the victor. Finally, she agreed to the project and dimly noted it would extend the time he worked around her house by a few more days. Not a good idea, but something she couldn’t control. Hell, she was barely able to hold an intelligent conversation with the breeze caressing her bare breasts and hardening her nipples, aware that she was wet, aching and ready for him.

“Tell me about the classes you teach,” he said, leaning back in his chair and obviously enjoying the view.

She refused to surrender and focused her thoughts on the conversation. “Poetry and literature was always a passion of mine. I grew up on Dickens and Austen. Always seemed more comfortable with books than people. I even tried my hand at writing, but I don’t have the talent.  I’d rather read.”

“Hmm, I’m not surprised. You try desperately to live in your head, but deep inside you have too much passion. Literature would feed that hunger.”

Surprise shot through her. Dead-on hit. She wondered how he knew her so well after so little time spent in her company. “Yes,” she answered softly. “I think you’re right.”

“My mother raised me on poetry.”

“Dr. Seuss?”

He laughed. “More like Dickinson and Moore. She insisted on giving me culture, as she called it. Also told me it would help with the ladies.”

“Did it?”

“You tell me.”

Julianna shook her head in amusement at his outright arrogance and the memory of that night by the bar. “You’re impossible. But your mother was right. When I heard you quoting Whitman, well, I don't need to lie. You had me.” He seemed satisfied by her admission, but she was curious about all the hidden facets he never spoke about. “You sound like you come from a close family, yet you don’t want to settle down with the business. What type of business is it, Jack?”

A beat passed. “We build things, then ship them.”

“Construction?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re not ready to take over?”

Another beat passed. Julianna knew he was hiding something, but didn’t push. After all, she had her own secrets.

“I have nothing to complain about. I grew up with a solid foundation and my parents were always there for me. Let’s just say I felt separated from other kids. I was on a different social level, so I became isolated. Of course, as I got older I realized that was bullshit. You can be friends with anyone you want, if you choose.”

“Are you talking about rich versus poor?”

“Yeah.”

She nodded. “I know what you mean. I grew up with the pressure of socializing with “my kind.” I made a friend in school once. We hung out and played together, and I invited her over to my house for a play date. Once my mother discovered her background, she told me I wasn’t allowed to see her any longer. Explained I had a responsibility to learn only from friends at my own social level.” She huffed out a disgusted breath. “So embarrassing. After mom's lecture, I ignored my friend. I still regret how I hurt her feelings. I wish I’d been strong enough to stand up to my mother instead of accepting what she told me as law. I was literally raised to be a spoiled brat.”

“Is that why you want to marry someone at your social level?”

She hesitated with the truth. And decided to hold back. “Yes.” She gave no further explanation, almost wanting him to disapprove of her. Anything to keep some emotional distance between them.

“You may not have had a choice then. But you do now.”

The words stung like a hive of bees. She took the pain because she knew she deserved it. He was right. Pretending she was stuck on the path before her was a sheer copout. She could turn her back on her father’s plea and do what was best for her. She could sell the property and walk away. Make a life somewhere else on her own terms.

Her father’s face haunted her. To keep the family home and name alive. Ridiculous, these days. She was a heroine straight out of Victorian fiction or Gone with the Wind.

Jack was right, though. Still her choice.

She decided to play her own games. There was no need to hunker down for a heart-to-heart talk with a temporary lover. She sat across from him, topless, while he called the shots.

Not anymore.

“This crab is delicious.” Her obvious change of subject seemed to amuse him, but she vowed to alter the expression on his face. The meat was tender and cold against her mouth. She dipped a claw in butter, brought it slowly to her lips and nibbled at the jagged edges.

Suddenly, he seemed less than amused.

He watched every motion with obviously growing hunger, and a jolt of satisfaction raced through her at the ability to make this man want her. Power urged her on as she darted her tongue out and caught the crab delicately between her teeth. Without pulling her gaze from his, she opened her mouth and sucked on the meat. As it disappeared behind her lips, she emitted an earthy moan.

His muscles locked. Julianna heard a ragged breath, but he didn’t speak or try to stop her. She licked the dripping butter off every finger, scraping her teeth lightly against her skin. When they were clean, she pushed her hair behind her shoulder. Then she slowly allowed her moist fingers to trace the collarbone of her neck, caress the swell of her breasts, and drop lower.

He sucked in his breath. Driven by an extreme urge to push him, to make him want her, she allowed her fingers to touch and stroke her breasts with delicate motions. She let her head fall back a bit and felt the cool breeze drift over her heated skin, sent her thumb to play over the ruby hard tip and coax it to rise.

He muttered a dirty curse. “I knew I created a monster. Look at you. Look at what you do to me.”

Her gaze fell to his erection straining against the white shorts. Tawny eyes glittered with a mad hunger and spurred her on. She dropped her voice to a naughty whisper. “Why don’t you look at what you do to me?”

She pulled up her skirt and parted her legs.

Jack gripped the table and swore. “Show me, Julianna. Show me what you did on the cliffs the first night I took you.”

The wildness took hold and tore through her. She slid her hand downward, parted her swollen lips, and pushed her finger inside.

He urged her on. She moaned as her body reached for release. She used her wetness to coat her clit and applied the steady moving pressure to make herself come. Slipping lower in the chair, she hooked both feet behind the legs of the table and pleasured herself.

He sensed her approaching climax and jumped from his chair. With one fast movement, he caught her around the waist and pulled her up, catching her hand firmly in his. Hard, choppy breaths floated past her ear as he held her against his rock-hard body.

“I won’t let you finish this time, Julianna.” He ripped the skirt down her hips and gazed at her naked body with an odd possessiveness. “Go stand by the railing and don’t turn around. We’re setting sail.”

Her knees trembled when he left, but she obeyed. She clasped the cool rails of the deck and heard him release the ropes. Silently, the boat glided away from the harbor into the blackness before her.

The night engulfed her with silence, and the horizon pulled her further into an alternate universe. Civilization left behind, she waited for him as the boat made its way deep into the ocean, then slowed. A million stars twinkled overhead.

She never heard his footsteps.

Like a wild stallion mounting his mare, he pressed his hard body against hers and dragged her legs apart. She gasped and held on tight as he yanked her up, spread her wide, and plunged deep inside.

Julianna tensed against the sudden invasion. His massive size filled her up, and she clenched her muscles tight in an automatic defense. He groaned with pleasure as her walls milked his cock, and she arched backward as her body slowly received him, then demanded more.

The wind caressed the hard tips of her breasts, and she clutched the railing, fighting for some shred of sanity. The wildness of the scene took her deeper into a dark, seething hunger. He gripped her hips and thrust over and over, ravishing, punishing, teaching her the ultimate lesson in submission. Julianna moaned with need as his strokes pushed her toward the edge of climax, then held her there mercilessly. She twisted back and forth in a mad attempt to get him to finish, but he tortured her, his thrusts deep and hard but hardly enough.

“Fuck me harder.” She panted the words between gritted teeth as her pussy dripped and burned for more. “Take it all, Jack.”

He muttered her name, lifted one leg to expose her swollen pussy, and plunged again. She cried out as he rubbed her clit at the same time and the orgasm gripped every muscle of her body. Mini-convulsions seized her and she rode the wave to the end, sobbing at the exquisite release.

He came inside of her and gripped tight. Her name echoed through the night as he found his own release. Moments passed as they slumped together. Then he picked her up, grabbed a blanket, and wrapped them in a cocoon of warmth. He settled into the leather boating chair and cuddled her on his lap while they sat in silence and looked at the stars. She floated in a sensual haze and wondered why she felt more cherished and protected than she ever had before.

“It was on this boat that my father told me he was sick,” Jack said. “I was wrapped up in my own shit, as usual, and he asked me to go sailing with him. I kept cancelling and finally he looked me dead in the eye and said, ‘Come sailing with me, Jack.’ And I knew there was something wrong.”

He hesitated, and rocked her back and forth as if soothing himself. She held his hand and listened.

“Things are simpler out here. The burn of the sun and the wash of water. Instincts aren’t buried, lies no longer needed. Just the direction of the boat and the silence of your mind.”

Julianna thought back on the times spent with her father out on the ocean. Then realized Jack had worded her own memory perfectly.

“The day was perfect. Clear skies, fat clouds, and smooth waters. We found a new route we had wanted to explore and sailed for hours. Didn’t talk much. We let the ocean do it for us, until he turned to me and told me about the cancer. Prostate. Went fast once he was diagnosed. Odd, I remember every detail of that conversation. After he told me, all I could think of was how something so bad could happen on such a perfect day.”

His voice reached out and called to her soul, whisper-soft and rich. She allowed herself to surrender to the magic and felt the bond between them tighten a notch. She didn’t speak, only held his hand and accepted the silence, the gentle splash of water against the boat as it bobbed up and down.

“I didn’t have to take care of him,” said Jack. “Sure, I was there every day. I talked to him, and took care of business details. But we had my mom and a nurse daily. I got to hide from the really bad stuff.”

“If your dad was anything like you, I bet he didn’t want to show you sickness or weakness. He probably wanted you to remember that day on the boat. That was your real dad. Not the one bedridden and unable to talk.”

He nodded and stared out into the night. “You’re right. Funny how you know things about me on instinct.”

“Not instinct. We’ve been through the same thing. Sick parents test the core of who you are. I remember after my mother passed how excited I was to leave. I packed, bought a new outfit, and got ready to make my own way. When I said good-bye to my father, I sensed there was something he wasn’t telling me. I pushed. He told me about the cancer. Funny, like you said about your dad, that was the moment I remember. Listening to his diagnosis, aware he would die alone in the house without my mother. My shiny leather suitcase at the door and my new heels on my feet. And I knew I couldn’t leave. “

They rocked in companionable silence. Then he dropped a gentle kiss on the top of her head. “You’re the real hero, Julianna.”

She stiffened in surprise. “You’re wrong. I hid, just like you told me the first day we met. I used my parents as an excuse so I wouldn’t have to make my own choices.”

“You made your choices. You just chose your family over yourself. If that’s not a hero, I don’t know what is.”

“Jack—”

“Shush. You’re also the only woman I know who refuses a compliment.”

“I don’t—”

He gave a deep sigh and tipped her head back. Julianna gazed into amber depths burning with need and another emotion she was terrified to name.

She realized she was falling in love with him.

“Is this the only way to shut you up?” He kissed her, his mouth moving over hers with a languid ease, then raised his head. His lip twitched at her sudden silence. “Much better. No need to remind you dawn is a while away, and I’m not done with you.”

Excitement stirred in her belly. She didn’t want to spoil their last few hours by confessing her decision to marry another man. For a little while, he belonged to her, and she intended to enjoy every moment.

“I remember.”

“Good. Now, take off the blanket and let me suck on those pretty breasts. I didn’t get a chance, and I’ve been looking at them all evening.”

The blanket dropped and he smiled.

Julianna pushed away all the disturbing thoughts of emotion and love and let him pleasure her.

Chapter Six

Julianna crossed to Thames Street and arrived at Christie's Restaurant. She chatted with some local acquaintances before being led to a table on the back deck. The breeze barely stirred, and she smoothed out some loose strands from her chignon. Her casual white sundress left her shoulders bare, and matching white sandals completed the outfit. She ordered a glass of Chardonnay and waited for Bryce.

Almost a week had passed and they’d seen each other every evening. They dined, shared conversation, and he politely kissed her goodnight. Then she went home to Jack and spent the hours before dawn making love.

Julianna tapped one peach-tinted nail against the edge of the table. A decision needed to be made. Fast. Bryce was to leave next week, and she sensed a question would be posed.

What was she going to do?

She sipped the cold, dry liquid and tried to gather her thoughts. Jack was the perfect summer affair. He knew she dated someone, but refused to question her daily activities. He gave her multiple orgasms and didn't ask for anything back. With his work completed tomorrow, he'd soon move on until he decided to return to England and run the family business.

The problem was, she was beginning to want more.

The nights on his boat had taken on a dreamlike quality. Her body knew every touch, every tone, and every look. She belonged to him, as he reminded her each evening.

But he couldn't give her what she needed.

The Cliff House. The fulfillment of a promise to her dying father. Jack Wolfe lived in the moment, but never looked beyond the day. When he left, he’d be taking a piece of her. But she had to be rational about her decision.

Julianna looked up and smiled as Bryce greeted the waiter and sat down. He made a charming face. “I’m late again.”

“You’re always late,” she teased back. “That’s why I already ordered a drink.”

“I love an independent woman.” They skimmed the menu and ordered, then relaxed and took in the scenery. “Maybe after dinner you can show me your home. I’ve been dying to see it.”

Guilt made her voice sharp. “Oh, not tonight. I’m having some work done and it’ll be better tomorrow night.”

“Outside or inside?”

She took a bite of bread and pushed the basket toward him. “Outside. Try this—the hummus is delicious here.”

“Hmm. You have to be careful with those contractors. Do you have one you trust?”

Julianna wondered if she was losing it, or if he was studying her face as intently as she thought. Like he waited for something. She concentrated on her plate. “Sure, he’s fine. He’ll be gone tomorrow.”

“Well, good. Then it’s a date for tomorrow.”

“Fine. Now I think…” Julianna’s gaze caught on a tall, familiar build and she trailed off, her attention completely focused on the couple across the room. A young woman with short blond hair, a slim build, and a killer smile bent forward and rubbed her companion’s knee. He smiled back and leaned in to tell her something, forming an intimate circle which seemed to delight her. Julianna felt the room go still, then spin and throw her completely off kilter. She shook her head hard as if to clear it, noting Bryce’s sudden worried frown and her inability to form any words.

Jack.

With another woman.

“What is it, Julianna? Are you ok?”

She forced a smile and tore her gaze away. Her heart pounded in a frantic rhythm, but she spoke calmly. “Nothing. I thought I recognized someone I knew. Now, tell me about your day.”

She listened to him half-heartedly and snuck glances at her lover. They seemed intent on their own conversation, ignoring the waiter when he delivered the food. Jack had ordered a bottle of wine. Was it expensive?

He wasn’t wearing his usual attire of jeans and t-shirt. He’d dressed for this occasion, in a button-down blue shirt with navy cotton pants and leather shoes. His hair glistened in the dying sun and turned some strands a golden blonde. Who was she? He seemed less physical with this woman, yet interested in her words. Was he sleeping with her?

Even worse, was he courting her?

She attacked her shrimp with a ruthless intensity, but Bryce didn’t comment. Occasionally, he glanced over his shoulder as if wondering what distracted her. Julianna cursed under her breath, using a few choice words Jack taught her. This was ridiculous. He was a free man. For God’s sake, she was probably getting married! It was for the best.

Julianna finished the meal and refused to look at the couple across the room.

The waiter delivered a tall crystal goblet filled with fresh strawberries and whipped crème. She grabbed her spoon, lifted it to her mouth, and stopped dead.

Something brilliant caught the light and sparkled amidst froths of whipped cream. Slowly, she took the spoon away and tapped the object.

A ring.

The waiter stood back from the table, a delighted grin on his face. Bryce reached over and took her hand. His dark eyes glinted with purpose and seriousness as he plucked the princess-cut diamond ring from the top of the fruit. He cleaned the cream off with a napkin, then held the ring out to her.

“Julianna, I think we can make each other very happy. Will you marry me?”

An eerie silence settled around her. A slight roaring attacked her ears, and she realized everyone was staring at their table, holding their breath.

Her gaze cut across the room.

Jack stared back at her. Whiskey colored eyes mercilessly caught and held her prisoner. Raw anger carved out his face, his jaw locked tight, his fingers clenched into fists at his side. Pure masculine rage flew at her like shards of glass, and she flinched.

“Julianna?”

Her throat stuck. She made an effort to speak, but only managed a squeak. The walls closed in, and Julianna realized with horror she was having an outright panic attack. Her plan had worked. She had a chance to keep her promise, and also marry a man she had legitimate feelings for. Maybe friendship could grow. Maybe this was the best decision of her life.

She watched Jack whisper something to his companion. The woman looked over in confusion, and then Jack rose from his seat. And began to walk with deadly purpose toward her.

One second. Two. A decision.

“Julianna?”

She saw her future across the table. She saw the love of her life walking toward her. And she chose.

“Yes. I’ll marry you.”

Bryce let out a breath and slid the ring onto her finger. The waiter clapped, and surrounding patrons murmured happy approval. Champagne was uncorked and poured into two glasses. Julianna closed her eyes in brief prayer that Jack would go back to his table. If she let him, surely he would do the same for her?

“Hello, Julianna.”

She opened her eyes and swallowed. His gaze was hard, accusing, and dangerous. The game had been played and the final deal was on the table.

Ante up.

“Hello, Jack.”

She was surprised at the raw tension and open competitiveness of the look the two men shared. Almost as if there was something else going on she had no knowledge of. But then they nodded at each other as if a decision had been made.

Julianna cleared her throat. “Bryce, this is Jack Wolfe. He’s finishing up the work around the Cliff House.”

Bryce sat back in his seat with an amused look. “Wolfe, huh? I always did respect hard labor. Julianna seems satisfied with your work. I’ll check it out tomorrow when I see the Cliff House.”

She blinked at the obvious gloat in his tone, feeling like she was missing something crucial in this exchange.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” Jack said. “I’m surprised. Didn’t think you had known each other for long.”

Bryce grinned. “Long enough, old pal.”

“Yes, so it seems. Long enough.”

The men stared each other down. Julianna shifted in her seat, desperate to end the whole evening.

“Will this be a long engagement?” Jack asked.

Bryce gave a wink. “Don’t think so. No need to wait, right, sweetheart?”

Julianna shook her head to clear it. “We haven’t discussed dates yet. Umm, thanks for stopping by, Jack. I think your companion is waiting for you.”

Jack nodded as if he had made his own important decision. “Yes, she is. Enjoy your night.”

He turned and strode away without a glance back. He whispered something to his date. Within minutes, he paid the bill and walked out with her hand in hand. The woman was laughing.

Julianna knew he would make love to her tonight. Enveloped by rage and betrayal, he’d feel there wasn’t another choice. He’d strip her naked and plunge inside of her and call someone else’s name.

“Interesting guy,” Bryce commented. “Seems like he knows you better than a contractor would. Did you ever date?”

Julianna told the truth. Her voice was whisper soft when she spoke. “No, we never dated.”

How about a walk by the marina?” Bryce asked. “We can discuss plans. We have some decisions to make.”

“Yes."

Her heart shattered piece by piece as she took her fiancé's hand and accompanied him out of the restaurant.

* * *

Jack sat in the darkened bedroom and waited.

Silence closed around him. He sank deep into the stillness and let his thoughts take control.

He’d underestimated his cousin’s thirst for power. Now Jack would pay for his mistake, and pay dearly. He’d met Angela on one of his jobs and immediately asked her out. After all, his purpose in Newport had been to find a wife. A wife who wanted him for the person he was, and not for the money she’d inherit. Angela was sweet and sexy. A lunch date had turned into dinner. He felt there was potential in the relationship, that it might go further, but most of the time he compared her to Julianna.

When he left the restaurant, he’d intended to sleep with Angela. She was willing and ready, but her body was long and thin and almost boyish. Her taste was a bit tangy rather than the smooth caramel sweetness of Julianna’s mouth. Everything felt wrong, so he’d claimed exhaustion and put her off for another evening.

His short, meaningless affair had wrecked him for anything else. And now Julianna was going to marry his cousin.

After Angela left, Jack made the necessary phone calls. He pulled rank and discovered Bryce had come to town shortly after Jack arrived. Seemed his private investigator had done his dirty work for him. Somehow, Bryce knew about his plan to disappear and find a wife. Of course, he couldn't know about the special clause in his father's will, or his cousin would have married immediately. No, he was playing a dangerous head game. Bryce liked to toy with his prey before moving in for the kill. He’d probably discovered Jack's interest in Julianna and intended to halt the relationship before it went any further. Not sure what the final goal was, but Jack needed to find out.

Fast.

He could have called out his cousin’s charade in the restaurant, in front of Julianna. Instead, he’d protected both their identities. It wasn’t the place or time to tell Julianna the truth. Did she think she loved Bryce? Or was she so intent on marrying for wealth, she’d chosen to ignore her heart?

Gut instinct told him there was a deeper connection between them than sex. He’d intercepted her shocked look when she spotted his companion. He watched the naked jealousy on her face, along with her struggle to contain her emotions. The woman was so skilled at grooming herself to hide any messy feelings that it took him a while to learn her expressions. But now he understood them. Hours in the bedroom and talking through the night had bonded them, and he knew her more intimately than anyone who might have come before him.

Bryce would want to sleep with her.

Sickness lurched in his gut. He couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t let this marriage happen. He had one shot at changing her mind and convincing her to take a chance on her heart. For God’s sakes, she must have enough money from her parents’ estate. Why did she want more?

She needed to choose.

He’d fought his feelings, but he knew he’d made the right choice. If she did the same, he’d tell the truth. Then she’d have it all, and he'd finally know she loved him enough to take a chance on him.

He'd changed. He quoted poetry as he worked. He looked for her in the gardens and hoped she'd pass the window so he could steal a quick peek. Her image burned in his mind. Her eyes gleaming with desire when she glanced at him, humming under her breath as she did chores around the house, or bathed in sunlight while she sat in the gardens with a novel in her lap. He loved watching her hair fly wildly in the ocean breeze when they sailed, and her laugh of delight when they caught a dolphin dancing behind his ship.

He was in love with her.

The door opened. Footsteps led straight to the bedroom and paused in the doorway. He kept hidden in the shadows as her gaze probed the room and settled on his figure.

“I didn’t think you would show.”

Her voice tore at him, slightly ragged and confused. Dark tendrils of hair escaped her topknot and framed her face. She breathed in and out in a nervous rush, and her tongue licked her plump lower lip, then nibbled. The strapless white dress barely clung to her plump breasts, sliding low enough to give him a glimpse of a red nipple. He wondered if Bryce had kissed her goodnight and pulled down her top. Wondered if she let him slide his hand under the gauzy material and touch her through her panties.

Jack reached down deep to connect with the emotional part of him that wanted to sit down and tell her his feelings. The civilized, rational man who ran a shipping company and sailed boats and knew how to court women with politeness.

Instead, he felt an animal rage and possession shake through his body and tear at his muscles. A need to stake his claim one last time.

He crossed the room and stood before her. Her rich brown eyes widened as she recognized the danger and took a step back with sheer survival instinct. He caught her hard around the waist and pulled her in. His mouth stopped inches from hers and he spoke his words directly against her lips.

“Did you let him fuck you?”

She gasped. Temper replaced fear as she pushed his chest. “No!”

“Good. You belong to me.” His gazed raked her face. “Maybe you need a reminder.”

He kissed her. She opened to his savagery with her own crazed need, meeting every rough thrust of his tongue and giving back with all she had.

He dropped one hand to his belt buckle, deftly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. His erection sprang out and he felt her shudder in his arms. He tore his mouth from hers, gripped the back of her neck, and forced her down on her knees. He used his other hand to rip the pins from her hair until the waves tumbled loose over her shoulders. She breathed hard and unevenly, and his cock felt the warm puffs of her breath against his straining erection.

“Suck me. And don’t stop unless I tell you to.”

He waited for the fight, but a mad glitter of lust lit her eyes, and with a low moan, she opened up her lips and took him in.

He murmured his approval and loosened his grip on the back of her neck. She needed no more urging—her mouth held the perfect suction as she wrapped him tight and sucked, her tongue swirling around the base and licking the tip as daintily as a kitten licks cream. To Jack, she reminded him more of a lioness than a kitten, her bold strokes and suction creating the perfect balance and slowly driving him out of his mind. He arched upward and gave her more. Her hand cupped his scrotum and lightly raked her nails along the underside, eliciting a moan from his lips. She pushed him toward the edge with every stroke and lick and bite until he exploded in her wet channel, crying out her name in the silent room as she accepted every drop of him.

Julianna released him and looked up. Her lips wet from his semen, her eyes unfocused and blurred with need. Jack scented her raw arousal and knew she was moments from orgasming herself.

“Keep licking me gently.”

She obeyed, caressing him with talented fingers and soft breaths as he grew hard again. When he was ready, he guided her off her knees and pointed to the bed.

“Lie down and spread your legs.”

She raised her knees and let him look at her. The bodice of the sundress had dipped to her belly and exposed her full naked breasts, already swollen and sensitive. Her skirt was hiked up above her legs, and her pussy spread open to his ravenous gaze. Wetness gleamed in the dim light. He moved to the bed and knelt between her open legs. His tongue flicked out to gently lick around her swollen clit, parting her labia and then stroking the surface with teasing strokes. She arched off the bed in response and cried out, looking for more, but he kept her there for long minutes, stretching out her pleasure until sensation was so intense it bordered on pain.

She begged and pleaded. Finally, he sucked on her engorged clit, the ripe flesh blossoming against his lips, her heady scent swamping his senses. She slid toward orgasm, the convulsions beginning, and he quickly removed his mouth and plunged deep inside her with his cock.

Julianna screamed and climaxed hard. He took all she had, every thrust a reminder her body and soul and mind belonged only to him. Her body embraced the knowledge and then she shuddered again, a flow of mini-orgasms that milked his cock and pushed him one final time to spurt inside of her.

The clock ticked as they lay together in a tangle of sheets. Her breathing slowed, and Jack rolled over to face her in the darkness. He reached deep inside himself for the strength to reveal his emotions, not knowing the outcome.

“Don’t marry him.”

Her hands cupped his face. He felt her fingers lightly touch his lips, trace the curve of his cheekbone, his jaw. Smooth out his brows. He watched as a mix of emotions flickered in her inky eyes.

“What have you done to me?” she whispered.

“I’m breaking our deal.” He placed a hard kiss on her lips. “I lied. I don’t want you to belong to me every night. I want days. Weekends. Holidays. I want it all.”

“Jack—”

“I love you.” His heart squeezed in fear and hope and astonishment at the truth. “I want you to marry me instead. I want to sail my boat with you and make love to you and listen to you quote poetry all day. Choose me.”

Despair leaked into her voice. “This was supposed to be about sex.”

“Yes. But it became more for me. Now I need to know if you feel the same.”

His gut told him she’d choose him. They understood and connected with each other on a basic scale he’d never discovered with another woman. He had to believe it was more than sex. He had to believe she’d choose him over the money. He felt as if his whole life had led up to this moment. Not only had he found a woman he loved, but by marrying her, he’d complete his destiny and finally claim the company and his heritage on his own terms.

“I love you, Jack.”

Triumph coursed through him. He reached for her, but she held out two hands in an effort to ward him off. He finally caught the sheen of tears in her eyes. The slight tremble of her lips. And he listened to her words while he felt his world slowly break apart around him.

“But I can’t marry you. I have to marry Bryce.”

A deep freeze settled over him. He studied her with a hard, assessing glare. “Is this about money?”

She flinched, but stayed her course. He gave her credit. She looked at him straight on and nodded. “I made my father a promise before he died. The Cliff House is the only family legacy left to us. We lost everything with the medical bills, upkeep, mortgage. The money’s all gone. My father asked me to do anything in my power to keep our home. I looked for loans from anyone. Time was running out and the house would have foreclosed. I can’t let that happen, Jack. Even if I have to marry for it.”

She took a deep ragged breath and sat up in the bed, the sheet tightly clutched to her breasts. “You made me fall in love with you. But if I don’t marry Bryce, I’ll break the only promise I ever made to my father. I can’t do it. So I can’t choose you.”

He let the words wash over him and permeate each layer of his body until they reached the beat of his heart. He felt as if something died deep inside. There was no happily ever after. Bad sometimes wins over good.

Still, he needed to live with no regrets. Now he understood why she needed the money. The final puzzle piece locked into place and the reality lay before him. She’d never craved money for her own needs. Her promise to her father was key. Jack realized the woman before him had given over her entire life to promises she’d made to other people. None for herself.

He needed her to trust him, to reach deep inside and let herself go in order to give them a shot at having something real. So, he choked on his pride. “I’m asking you to choose me over your father.” His body burned with urgency, mentally screaming for her to pick him so they could share a life together. He picked his words carefully. “You may not think I have much, but I can take care of things, Julianna.”

He’d give her no more. He needed her to choose with a clear conscience. For love. Not money.

She bowed her head, and her glorious umber hair slid over her face and teased the tips of her breasts. When she looked up, he watched one lone tear skate down her cheek. But her face was carved from stone. “I can’t marry you, Jack,” she said softly.

Silence descended. He nodded and rose from the bed. After dressing quickly, he paused by the door and took one last glance at her. Said farewell to the one woman who’d stolen his heart, but didn’t want it.

“Good night, Julianna.”

Then he left.

Chapter Seven

Jack stiffened when he heard footsteps on the dock, but his senses told him it wasn’t the woman he loved coming back to beg his forgiveness. Even the air smelled stale in the presence of evil. He got up and met his cousin halfway.

“Bryce.”

“Hello, Jack. Figured you’d be here licking your wounds in private. Would you like to talk?”

Jack studied his cousin and relied on his gut instinct. Something else was going on, and he needed to find out what. His cousin had discovered his secret, focused on Julianna, and got her to agree to marriage. All to spite him? Or to beat him in the rush to claim the company?

“Come aboard. Drink?”

“Guinness, please. Thanks.”

They settled on the deck with their stout and pretended civility. From years of experience, both were masters of the game. Jack took a swig. “What do you want?”

Bryce threw his head back and laughed. “Why, Jack, I have everything I want. I’m in the perfect position. I’m going to marry Julianna and inherit the company. Your time is up, and you’re no closer to finding your wife. The company will default to me immediately.”

Jack studied his cousin’s perfect profile and called his bluff. “No, it won’t. I’m sailing back to England and announcing my engagement.”

The other man’s lips tightened. “To whom?”

“Rachael. The woman my mother had her hopes pinned on. So, you lose. Now you’re stuck with someone you don’t even love.”

Darkness stole over Bryce’s features. Jack watched the tendril of loathing writhe from gun-metal eyes.

“If I lose in this, Jack, I’ll make sure she pays.”

Jack didn’t move a muscle. “What are you talking about?”

Bryce relaxed again, assured he was back in control. “I’ll make sure she’s miserable. I’ll hurt her, Jack. Quietly, of course, but enough so she knows to be afraid of me.”

The breath whooshed out of him like he’d been clubbed. “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

Bryce waved off the quietly spoken threat. “You won’t be able to stop me. There are delicate ways of torturing women. You remember by handiwork in the old days, don't you, cousin? Of course, you were always a bit squeamish. I'll start our honeymoon off by forcing her to tell me everything you’ve done together. Then I’ll do it to her and make sure she likes it better.”

Jack lunged for him, but his cousin had already jumped out of his chair in anticipation of the move. “Calm down, Jack. Of course, I’m only kidding. Still, if you allow me to win this round gracefully, I’ll let her go. I have a long line of women in England I can marry in a heartbeat. You can be with Julianna and be second in command. We can run the company together like I’ve always wanted. Think, Jack. We can actually have it all if you’ll just think the whole thing through.”

"I'll tell her the truth. She'll never marry you."

"We're getting married on Friday." Bryce clucked in mock sympathy."You lied to her. I didn't. I told her about my worthless cousin who sails in his free time and refuses to run the company. I told her why I want to marry, where I come from, and my real name. You look like a scam artist. She'll never believe you now, Jack."

"I'll make her believe me."

Bryce grinned. “You had your chance.” His voice dropped to a whine. “Choose me, Julianna. Please.” His cousin laughed out loud. “I knew she’d choose the money over you. I waited for you to confess you had the money. The game would have changed. But you kept quiet, and she betrayed you. You were always blind when it came to women. Still, you have a soft spot for her, which will be quite useful to me.”

Jack clenched his fists. “You bugged her room, didn’t you? You fucking bastard. You were listening to us all along.”

He raised a mocking brow. “Of course. How else was I to figure out the rules of the game?”

Jack shook off the rage and clawed for control. He needed to buy time. Time to figure a way out of this mess and save everyone. “Get off my boat. I’ll think about it.”

Bryce walked off the boat. “I’ll wait for your decision. Always nice talking with you.”

Jack grabbed for a shred of control to keep from beating the crap out of him. He promised vengeance later. His cousin would pay, but now he had precious little time to come up with a plan.

He realized it was time for answers. And serious help.

Jack picked up his phone and dialed his mother.

* * *

Julianna sat on the soft grass and studied the graceful lines of the rock wall in her backyard. The job looked flawless. Heavy cut colored stones climbed upward and set off a trickling waterfall. The rush of cool water spurted from the wall and trickled down into a clear glassy pool. Moss floated on the surface, and the sound of crickets and croaking frogs drowned out the voices in her head. She curled her bare toes into the damp soil and wondered again if she had made the biggest mistake of her life.

She never planned to fall in love with a gardener. He had stated his intention to take care of her, and Julianna could only imagine how she had stomped on his pride by saying it wasn’t enough. How could she ask Jack to sacrifice all his money to save something he didn’t care about? And it could never be enough. A few thousand wasn’t enough to plug one hole in the overwhelmed financial dam. She couldn’t drag him down with her for a promise she’d made.

The future was reasonably certain with Bryce. He knew the truth about the money required to save the Cliff House and had no problem with it. He needed to marry in order to inherit his family company, so they’d be helping each other. She’d live in England the bulk of the time, and a few months at her family home.

Bryce wanted children and a family. She was good at appearances. She could be a proper companion and keep the family name pure. Everything she’d been training for all her life.

She’d have to give up teaching, another compromise to be swallowed. But at least she'd be safe. In another house, in another country, but the Cliff House would stay in her family. She’d have kept her promise. After all, what else could she do?

Her body ached for Jack. His image flickered behind her closed eyelids at all hours of the night, his fierce urging for her to choose him. What would it feel like to be a woman who followed her heart? Who threw caution and promises to the wind and went after what she wanted?

She’d never know.

Her future was set. At least, her husband was someone she might grow to love. In time. She needed to focus on the goal, because if her gaze strayed from the path, she’d jump over the stone wall and race down to the marina and ask her lover to take her away.

Julianna closed her eyes and prayed for strength.

* * *

Jack ducked behind a large oak tree and froze. The curtain at the window swished back and forth, but the house remained quiet. He studied the layout of the rustic cabin, set back deep enough in the woods to confirm his suspicion.

Bryce was a sick son of a bitch and it was time to expose him. The call to his mother had been difficult, but necessary. She needed to know the truth about his cousin. Instead of questioning him, she’d believed him immediately and set to work. Tracking down Bryce’s personal private investigator was key, and completed within a few hours. A heavy payoff and threats of exposure easily swayed the man to switch sides. Now the surveillance equipment was safely installed in the cabin, where Bryce had requested another woman be delivered tonight.

Jack was alone and had flown the PI back to England after he completed Bryce’s task. Jack had to be the one to put his cousin in jail. He walked a fine line, and he wasn’t comfortable with it. He needed Bryce to cross the line into violence with the prostitute in order to get evidence on tape. This meant allowing a woman to be hurt. That sickened him, but at least this time Bryce wouldn’t follow all the way through with it.

He winced as the image on the small video screen revealed the woman half naked and accepting Bryce from behind. Jack looked away, the violence and lust on Bryce’s face too much to stomach. When he was spent, he directed the woman to suck him off, his fingers ruthlessly twisting her hair to deliberately cause her pain. When the woman choked, Bryce slapped her hard and made her start again.

Jack waited, controlling his urge to intervene as he watched the images flicker across the screen. He realized he was at fault for allowing his cousin to run rampant, never realizing the extent of his abuse. The detective had told him stories he only half believed. How could his cousin continuously hurt innocent victims? Why had no one talked or pressed charges?

But it was as bad as he’d been told. Bryce threw the crying, begging woman on the bed and tied her up. When the knife came out, Jack knew he’d had enough. The weapon allowed him to bump up the charges and crossed into severe criminal activity.

He raced to the door, used the key Peter had provided. Three sharp kicks broke the chain on the door. When he entered the bedroom, Bryce faced him, cool and calm, holding the knife to the woman’s throat. “Hello, cousin. Have you come to join the fun?”

The raw terror on the woman’s face affected Jack in a way he’d never forget. He knew if he hadn’t carried out this plan, Julianna would have been the one tied to the bed. He took a deep breath and deliberately remained casual. He kept his gaze on Bryce’s face and away from the knife.

“Is this how you relieve boredom now? By hurting innocent women?”

Bryce twisted his face into a grimace. The knife shook slightly. “Innocent? You mean a whore I paid good money for, to do as I wished? Women know exactly what they’re doing, including your precious Julianna. But I’ll be giving her a lesson soon. Screwing around with you, when I’d told her I needed a virtuous wife. Let’s see how she lies her way out of that one.”

“You won’t be getting anywhere near Julianna again. The game is over. Put down the knife, Bryce, and let her go. This is between you and me.”

The woman whimpered as the knife moved. A thick trickle of blood ran down her neck. She cried out and begged. Bryce smiled as if the sounds were sweet music. “Don’t think so. Hmmm, scenario may need to be changed. I'm not sure how you found my hideout, and something tells me you're going to refuse my logical offer. Perhaps you're more ruthless than I thought. What should we do? I know. I kill the girl and pin the crime on you. Your princely reputation will finally be ruined.”

Jack kept his voice steady. “We both lose then. Cops make things a mess. Murder has a long reach, even over to England. Ever heard of extradition?”

As a sequence of emotions flickered across the other man’s features, Jack estimated his distance from the girl. If Bryce went for her, could he reach her in time? Fuck, he’d never forgive himself for not intervening sooner. Little meows of terror leaked from her bloody lips, pleas for his help. He had to make his cousin turn the knife away from her. Then he might reach her in time..

“I have a solid alibi,” Bryce contradicted. “You don’t.”

“You bought one, and so could I,” Jack said easily. His heart pounded and sweat broke out on his brow. “Listen, Bryce, let her go and we’ll make a deal. Or if you’ve got the balls, come after me. Maybe then we’ll see who’s meant to be king.”

Bryce grinned. The knife flashed.

A scream ripped from the woman’s mouth seconds before the blade sliced her throat. Jack lunged and suddenly the bloody weapon was pushed into his hands, staining flesh and the white fabric of his shirt a vibrant red.

He tore the sheets off the bed and pressed the cotton against the gaping wound. He dropped the knife on the floor and groped for his cell phone to dial 911, praying the woman lived and he hadn’t participated in her murder by trying to obtain evidence. He spoke the address into the phone and murmured soothing nonsense as he felt the woman shudder, shake, and then slowly still. He figured she’d gone into shock, so he kept the pressure on the wound and looked fiercely into wide blue eyes.

“Hang on. Don’t you dare leave me. I promise to get that son of a bitch if it’s the last thing I do, but I need you to stick with me. We’re going to get him together. I swear to God no one is ever going to hurt you again. Are you listening? Stay with me!”

She slipped in and out but watched her battle to keep her focus on his face. Seconds felt like hours, and then the shrilling siren pounded in his ears, and there was a rush of emergency medical workers who pushed him aside and took over trying to keep her alive. Jack stood, dripping in blood, the knife at his feet, and watched them work. Then the sound of another siren pulling in front of the cabin, and two cops rushed through the door.

“Get down! Get down now!”

Jack hit the floor, hands on top of his head, as two cops trained their gun on him and cuffed him. His last image before things went black was not his cousin’s face as he used the knife, or the terrified look on the woman’s face, or the gushing blood.

It was Julianna’s face.

Chapter Eight

Tomorrow was her wedding day.

Julianna stared at the simple white gown hanging by the closet. Clean lines flowed from a strapless neckline and gathered in a bow in the back, then spilled to the floor in a rush of lace. The dress screamed elegance and practicality, especially for a small garden wedding with a few guests. She had no maid of honor, no close friends or family. Her lunch friends were acquaintances she kept up for appearances’ sake and no one knew the extent of her desperation. She’d invited a few neighbors and co-workers from the college in an effort to make memories of the only wedding she’d ever have. She couldn’t stand the idea of a justice of the peace. Much too impersonal. So she’d say her vows at the Cliff House, drink some champagne, and pack her bags for England.

Julianna sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the gown. An emptiness had taken root and grew hungrier with each passing day. She wondered if Jack had sailed away yet. Maybe another waterfront town in the hopes of finding something better than his home. Someone better than her. A woman like the one he’d shared dinner with that night.

Choose me.

His plea echoed in her head like a mantra with no ending. He’d called her a hero, yet she’d known the truth. She was a coward. Afraid to really live on her own terms. Afraid to choose the unknown over the dependable. A martyr to the end, she was willing to marry to give her father what he wanted. She was exchanging one prison for another without a fight. She placed no value upon herself.

Until Jack.

How had he suddenly made her feel important? Worthwhile and deserving of love? He’d challenged her body and her mind, pushed her boundaries, and had the gall to ask her to come away with him. Was there another man alive with such audacity? Was there another man alive who was meant to be her true love?

Her nerves raw, she wandered to the sunroom, desperate for a few moments of peace. She sought out her thick poetry book, cracked the spine and opened the page.

And came face to face with Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Juliana fought for breath as her gaze rested on the title, Give All to Love. And then she read.

Give all to love;

Obey thy heart;

Friends, kindred, days,

Estate, good-fame,

Plans, credit and the Muse,—

Nothing refuse.

'T is a brave master;

Let it have scope:

Follow it utterly,

Hope beyond hope:

High and more high

It dives into noon,

With wing unspent,

Untold intent;

But it is a god,

Knows its own path

And the outlets of the sky.

It was never for the mean;

It requireth courage stout.

Souls above doubt,

Valor unbending,

It will reward,—

The hard shell cracked and exposed a vulnerable, gooey center. The realization slammed through her like a hurtling racecar, crashed, and left a trail of crumbled debris in its wake. He’d given her everything he was, offered his heart, and she’d told him he wasn’t enough. Visions of her past flickered before her eyes. How many times had she given up her dreams for the sake of someone else? She had no one to blame, yet she found herself with no one to take care of while still seeking to be a caretaker. She didn’t want to marry someone socially acceptable that she didn’t love. Someone she felt lukewarm with.

She wanted to marry a man who would ignite the night, hold her accountable during the day, and see beyond the surface to the woman she really was. No other man had given her such a gift. Jack Wolfe had looked hard, and loved her anyway.

The room spun and she clutched the book to her chest for support. What good was owning the Cliff House without love? How could she spend the rest of her life regretting her choice and trying to live with a man she never truly wanted?

The answer was simple, held in the pages of poetry, held in her heart.

She’d cancel her wedding, find Jack Wolfe, and beg his forgiveness. She’d sail away with him and let the bank take her home. She didn’t need a home. She needed Jack.

Her legs shook when she stood and made her decision.

First she needed to find Jack. Then she’d speak with Bryce and tell him the truth. He didn’t deserve a wife who couldn’t give her heart to him and make a valiant effort at this marriage. Julianna was positive he’d find another suitable wife in order to inherit his family estate. After all, he was charming, polite, and kind.

Julianna raced out of the house and slammed the door behind her.

* * *

Jack sat on the deck of the boat. A forgotten beer lay beside him on the table, and his head thrummed in rhythm to the screech of seagulls. He sucked in a breath of salt air and his stomach steadied. The hours had passed in a whirlwind, from his arrest, the questioning, and tracking down Bryce. Thank God for the video camera hidden in the trees. Without the tape, the woman could have testified against both of them. She hadn’t known Jack was there to help, and her terror could have easily slanted the situation to make it look like they were working together.

After a few strategically placed calls to England, Bryce’s private investigator was a prime witness against his cousin. The trail of violence and abuse winded long, and hard evidence was needed. Bryce wouldn’t be claiming any family legacy. He’d be spending the next several years in jail. Jack would focus all his energies into making sure justice was served.

As for the woman, he found out her name was Charlotte, and she was going to be fine. He moved quickly to make sure her medical bills were paid, and a sizeable fund was ready to help her transition when she got out. Not that money would help her sleep any better at night. Still, he intended to make sure she got a proper job and anything she needed.

“Jack?”

He jumped and whirled around. Julianna stood on the dock. Her feet shifted back and forth, but her raven gaze was steady. “May I come aboard?”

Jack wanted to say no. He wanted to say yes. The sight of her made the wound throb and re-open. His need for her, and her need for another man’s money. He forced the word out. “Sure.”

She moved with a feminine grace, her white canvas shoes spotlessly clean as she jumped onto the gangway. A simple white t-shirt and cropped shorts covered her body. Her thick dark hair was pulled back in a pony-tail, and her face was scrubbed free of make-up. Jack spotted the telltale freckles sprinkling her nose and noted she’d spent too much time in the sun. Her familiar scent of vanilla and spice rose to his nostrils on the tug of the ocean breeze.

Julianna stopped before him, her teeth nibbling on her lower lip. “I was afraid you’d be gone.”

“I got delayed.”

“You look tired.”

“I am.”

They stared at one another. Jack ached to take her downstairs, tug off her clothes, and bury himself inside her sweet heat. She’d make him forget all the ugliness the day had brought. Halfway tempted to possess her one last time, he turned away and picked up his beer. “What do you want, Julianna?”

“Choose me.”

The bottle stopped halfway to his lips. He frowned, and temper bit into his voice. “What game are you playing with me? Do you want me to fuck you one last time before you get married?”

She flinched, but kept her chin raised. “Jack, I came back to ask you to forgive me. I made a terrible mistake.”

The realization hit him hard. He forced a laugh. “Oh, I get it. You heard the news about Bryce, so you figured you’d run over to me before your second choice sails away. No thanks. I’m no woman’s leftovers, love.”

A frown marred her brow. “What are you talking about? I haven’t told Bryce the truth. Not yet. You were never my second choice, Jack. He was. But I can’t go living a lie and marrying a man I don’t love just because of a promise I gave my father.”

She stepped forward. “I fought my feelings because I thought I owed my family. But my family’s gone.” Her voice quivered. “I’m sacrificing the man I love for an empty house. I was a stupid coward, but I’m not afraid anymore. You made me realize I could go after what I want with no apologies. And I want you.”

Heat wrapped around his cock and squeezed. Then moved up to his heart. Her dark eyes glowed with a passion he’d never seen in the bright light of day.

He studied every feature, probing for deceit, but found nothing but an innocent plea. “What about Bryce?” he asked.

“I needed to tell you how I feel first. I’m going to cancel the wedding. Bryce is a good man, and he doesn’t deserve someone who can never love him.”

My God, she really didn’t know.

He threw the bottle back on the table and rubbed his hand over his face. He needed to tell her the truth. The whole truth. But first he needed to complete one last test.

“What if I tell you it’s too late?” he asked harshly. “I intend to leave Newport this evening. Do you go back to him again and settle?”

“No.” She never faltered, just kept her chin high in the air and let him see naked vulnerability. “I’m never going to settle again. If I lose you, I’m still letting the house go. I’ll find my own way.”

Jack knew then he’d won. He was a prince with his own happy ending. He’d won the woman of his dreams, slain the evil knight, and would sail off into the sunset. He’d also save the Cliff House, so they they’d all get what they wanted. “Come here.”

She hesitated at his softly spoken command, but closed the distance between them. He trailed one finger down the curve of her cheek and felt her tremble. Satisfaction surged. “Ask me again.”

“I love you, Jack.”

He watched her dig deep for courage, for the grit to ask someone she’d rejected for another chance. He’d never loved her more than in that moment. Her breath broke from her lips.

“Please. Choose me.”

His mouth stamped over hers. An emotional flood rose and churned through his body as her taste and touch swamped his senses. He seized. Plundered. Released. His tongue drank deep until she clutched frantically at his shoulders, ripping at his shirt in a desperate attempt to unclothe him.

The warning bell clanged from somewhere distant and Jack focused on the sound in order to pull him out of sensual oblivion. He lifted his head and admired the sleek sheen of her swollen lips, her raven colored eyes dark with passion. Then he gave the words back. “I love you. I needed to know I wasn’t second choice. I don’t think I could have lived like that.”

“I’m so sorry I hurt you,” she whispered. “I’ll never again give you reason to distrust me. I’ll always tell you the truth. I have to find Bryce to finally finish this so we can get on with our lives.”

The warning bell screeched. Unease slithered through his body, and he released her. “I have to tell you something, Julianna. Something about Bryce.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I left him a message, but I need to find him. He’s not at the local hotels, but I’m supposed to meet him for dinner tonight at seven. I have to cancel the flowers, and call up the people we invited and then—”

“Bryce is in jail. He’s being held on charges of attempted murder.”

Color drained from her face and she swayed on her feet. “What?”

He wrapped his arms around her waist for support. “I know it’s a lot. I’ve been keeping some things from you, too. I need to tell you everything now.”

“Jack, what the hell is going on? Do you know each other? He couldn’t possibly have done something like that—”

“Bryce is my cousin. He followed me here from England when he found out my interest in you. He set up the whole meeting.”

Julianna shook her head hard. “No, you’re wrong. When I realized I couldn’t get the money, I placed an ad at a restricted website for women and men looking to marry. He answered my ad. He knew nothing about you.”

“Bryce hired a private investigator to go through your house. He reviewed all your files and the activity on your computer. He was looking for something to use against me, and he found it in you.”

She took a step back and held up her hands in defense. “That’s impossible.” She forced a laugh. “This makes no sense. Bryce is a rich man who needed to marry to inherit the family business. Wait a minute….” She trailed off and studied him hard. He allowed her the time to chase her thoughts. “You left to get away from the family business. Bryce told me his cousin was trying to steal the business even though he wanted no part of it. You belong to the same family?”

Jack nodded. “The company is Woodward Shipping based in England. I’m next in line to inherit, but I am compelled to marry before the company can be transferred to me. Bryce has been ruthless with his attempts to be the one who inherits. I had no idea he was this obsessed, or so sick. I found out he’s been securing prostitutes and beating them up, along with a many other women along the way.”

Jack let out a breath. “At first, I was so angry with you, I was about to sail back home and let you marry him. But when I found out he was dangerous, I couldn’t let that happen.” He quickly relayed the story of his stake-out, the videotape, the police, and the arrest. “Whatever happens, he’s ruined and he’s never going to hurt you or any other woman again.”

He reached out to touch her, but she turned away. He allowed her the space and told himself to be patient. This was a lot for Julianna to handle. She needed to accept that Bryce was a monster and Jack had deceived her. Of course, he was positive she’d understand. After all, she’d been the one to declare she only wanted to marry a man with money.

“If Bryce was your cousin, and you knew I was in trouble, why did you lie?”

“I was angry. You had clearly declared I wasn’t good enough for you because you wanted a man with money. Imagine how I felt? I only realized what Bryce was up to that night I saw you at dinner. I had no idea he was the man you were seeing, or that he was even in town.”

She nodded slowly. His muscles eased a notch. “I see,” she said. “So, from the very first you lied to me. You were never a gardener or a handyman. Your family business is one of the biggest companies in the world. What were you doing here, Jack? Or is that your real name?”

He refused to wince and stood his ground. “My real name is Jack Woodward. When my mother informed me I wouldn’t inherit the company unless I married, I decided to travel to see if I could find a woman who’d love me for myself. Not my money or title or company. I decided to go undercover, pick up a few odd jobs, and be a normal guy. I picked Newport because I wanted to sail and we have a satellite company here. I could check in on things and give myself the time and space I needed to meet someone on my own terms.”

His gaze raked over her figure. “I wanted you the moment I saw you. I figured you were a stuck-up, cold socialite who only cared about money. Yet, each time I spoke with you, you got under my skin.”

“You were testing me.” She shuddered and wrapped her arms tight around her body. “I failed the test because I wanted a man with money. What were you doing with that other woman at dinner? Auditioning her for the role of your wife?”

He took slow steps toward her and closed the distance. “I knew you were meant to be mine. No other woman ever stood a chance. And now I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

Her eyes widened. “Give me what? My reward?” Her face changed. Pure feminine temper burned from dark eyes, flew from her pores, and twisted her mouth. “Did you actually think you’d proudly announce you’re rich and make this whole charade go away?”

Jack pulled her against her chest and ignored the warning signs. “I can give you The Cliff House. You can keep your promise to your father, and we can have each other. Dammit, Julianna, we can have it all!”

Like a cat dropped in water, she literally spat and hissed. “We have nothing! We have sex and lies. I fell in love with Jack Wolfe, a man who worked with his hands, and made me laugh, and gave me orgasms night after night. A man who quoted poetry and burned with righteous pride when I told him I needed money.”

“I’m the same man. The man I wanted to be when I came here. The real me.”

“I don’t know the real you, Jack.” The fight went out of her and she grew limp in his arms. “I don’t know anything, except I can’t be with you. Did you really think you could make an entire existence disappear because you wanted it to happen? Or I’d drop to my knees, grateful I’d get the money as a bonus prize because I passed your test?”

The fragile thread holding his own temper frayed. “You’re not making any sense. You’re upset and overwhelmed and need some time.”

“Yes,” she said woodenly. “I need lots of time. Everything I believed in was a lie. You. Bryce. Dear God, I was going to marry a man tomorrow I thought was sweet and kind, and he's in jail for doing these terrible things to women. For attempted murder!" She shuddered. "I feel dirty, and stupid, and used."

"You're in shock. If I had any idea you were in danger, I would've told you the truth from the beginning."

"Gee, thanks. That makes everything okay."

"Julianna—"

"Go home, Jack. Go back to England where you belong and leave me alone.”

“Not without you.”

Her laugh held no humor. “There is no us. I won’t be your bride because the clock is ticking. I won’t give up my life for the promise of something that may not make me happy. You taught me that.”

“Maybe I need to remind you another way.”

His mouth took hers. She fought with fists and nails, teeth and feet, but he managed to drag her to the cabin and pin her to the bed. He used his tongue to pleasure, while his hands ripped at her clothes, under her panties, and plunged into wet, pulsing heat. She arched into his hand while she cursed him, yet beneath the rage was a sexual firestorm that seared flesh and pushed away all civil boundaries. He rubbed her clit with his thumb and hit her g-spot with pounding fingers. She clenched around him and climaxed while he tore off her shorts, unbuckled his pants, and thrust into her. She cried out his name as he drove into her, over and over, leaving her nothing left to hide or a shred of untruth between them. They both peaked together and held on as the shock waves held him mercilessly. When Jack was finally able to lift his head, he looked into her face.

A face he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Her skin glowed with pleasure, her eyes dreamily half closed and swollen lips emitting breathless gasps as she returned to sanity. Their gazes locked, and he drowned deep in a pool of inky blackness, touched her soul, and was changed forever.

“I love you, Jack.” Her words were whisper soft in the dimly lit room. “But I can’t do this anymore. I need time to figure out what I want on my own terms now. And not on anyone else’s agenda.”

She got up from the bed, straightened her clothes, and walked away.

Jack let her. Once again, he had given her everything, and it still wasn't enough. He watched her go without a word and wondered if his heart would ever be whole again.

Chapter Nine

Julianna sat in the Piazza San Marco at Cafe Florian, sipped her cappuccino, and watched the swarm of pigeons entertain the tourists. She lifted her face to the weak light of the sun and breathed in the scent of espresso and rich chocolate. The musical chatter of Italian rang through the square and caressed her ears like poetry.

And she thought of him.

She shook her head and mentally berated herself. Surrounded by lush architecture in the world’s most beautiful city, her first thought was of Jack. Venice called to her poet's soul, a mixture of old and new, heartbreaking beauty mingling with a dirty earthiness. The water lapping at the gondolas on the Grand Canal, the streets narrow and twisted with broken pavement. The people who swarmed the shops and cafes glowed olive brown and bellowed enthusiastic "Buon Giornos." Julianna buried herself in the sights and sounds with a headiness she hadn't felt since Jack Wolfe made love to her.

She wished he were here.

Three months of silence and heartache. Three months of saying good-bye to her past and seizing her own future. Yet every carved line of his face, every lean muscle was remembered. The tigerish gleam in his eyes, and the thick tawny strands of hair that fell over his forehead. The musky scent of his skin and the full curve to his lower lip.

She fought a sigh, tore off a piece of flaky pastry and popped it in her mouth. She’d done the right thing. Though she’d forgiven him, she needed time to make her own choices. The night on the boat had changed her forever. For the first time, she saw her life clearly and realized each step had led to her final decision as she looked into the eyes of the man she'd always love.

Jack believed the end had justified the means. With the villain safely jailed, the prince unveiled, and the spinster rewarded, he assumed the happily ever after. Instead, she glimpsed only each untruth in every step of a charade. The shock of his betrayal, of Bryce's ruse and violence, and the path her life could have taken if she'd uttered those vows. She glimpsed her own role in a Shakespearean tragedy. When Jack dragged her to the bedroom, her body had surrendered to everything he was, but she knew it would not be enough.

Julianna closed her eyes at the memory. She'd been a coward, ignoring her own dreams for somebody else's. Hiding from the woman she’d always wanted to be. She realized that if she accepted Jack's proposal, she'd never know what her own choices would have been, or how her life would lead. She'd set up house in England, with her home safe, and always wonder if Jack would have married her if not for his need to inherit.

Saying good-bye to him almost destroyed her. Instead, she picked herself up and made some hard choices. For herself, and for no one else.

Selling the Cliff House was devastating, but necessary. She’d found a generous buyer interested in historical houses who paid in cash. She settled her debts, put her stuff in storage, and took a three-week trip to Italy. After her vacation, she’d settle in a new town, put down roots, and pursue her PhD.

But she wondered every day who Jack Woodward had married.

She tried not to snoop, but found a short announcement. Woodward Shipping now belonged entirely to Jack Woodward, heir and son of the late Edward Woodward. She’d clipped it out of the paper, stuck it in her drawer, and cried the whole night. The next morning, she stuck her chin up, booked her airfare, and refused to look back.

Well. Only occasionally.

The waiter stopped by her table. “Signorina, this came for you.” He handed her an envelope, bowed his head and left. Julianna looked around, puzzled, and tore open the letter. Her gaze scanned the paper, stopped, and began to re-read.

Dear Julianna,

Time has passed. So much time, I wonder how I can express myself without trite polite words getting in the way of how I feel. How I’ve felt since the moment you left me. Instead, I’m borrowing someone else’s words, in the only way I know to show you the truth. So, I give you a sonnet by William Shakespeare.

Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind,

And that which governs me to go about

Doth part his function and is partly blind,

Seems seeing, but effectually is out;

For it no form delivers to the heart

Of bird, of flow’r, or shape which it doth latch;

Of his quick objects hath the mind no part,

Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch;

For if it see the rud'st or gentlest sight,

The most sweet-favor or deformèd'st creature,

The mountain or the sea, the day or night,

The crow or dove, it shapes them to your feature.

Incapable of more, replete with you,

My most true mind thus maketh mine eye untrue.

Her heart pounded and her ears roared. She gripped the edge of the table and frantically searched the crowd. Was this a sick joke? The note was unsigned. The words reached out and took a merciless hold, squeezing out every last ounce of her emotion and grief and longing for a man she’d never hold again.

“Hello, Julianna.”

She whirled around. He stood behind her, a slight smile curving those lips. Raw hunger gleamed from tiger eyes as his gaze roved over her, taking in every curve of her body, caressing her face, her hair, and settling back to gaze deep into her eyes. Her heart stopped, then pounded in a frantic rhythm.

A white suit jacket was slung over his shoulder. A black t-shirt molded to his chest, and matching white slacks showed off his lean figure. A Rolex gleamed from his wrist, and black aviator sunglasses perched on top of his head. His golden skin accentuated the blondish strands of hair raked back from his face. She felt the stare of every woman in the piazza veer and focus on him, yet his gaze never moved from hers.

“What are you doing here?” she asked softly.

He took the seat next to her, snapped the waiter over, and ordered in perfect Italian.

This other Jack fascinated her, yet when he spoke again, she glimpsed the man who had lain in her bed and set her body on fire.

“I wanted to see you.” He seemed to search for his words. “The night you left… well, at first I didn’t understand why. I thought I was presenting you with everything you wanted.” He gave a lopsided smile. “Then I realized I never gave you a chance to really choose. You may have loved me, but you didn’t know what kind of life I led. I think you would’ve always wondered if I married you to inherit Woodward Shipping. So, I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”

She smiled at him. “You came all the way to Italy to offer an apology?”

Jack laughed. “Not really. I had some business to take care of.”

“How did you know I was here?”

He paused. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you. To be sure you were okay.”

Pain tightened her chest. She reached out and took his left hand. Warm rough skin closed around hers. Then she lightly touched his ring finger. “You don’t wear a ring.”

One brow shot up. “Why would I?”

“I read in the paper you inherited the company. That means you had to marry.”

Jack grinned, and suddenly he transformed into her gardener, her erotic teacher, and her wayward sailor. “I told my mother I’d give up the company. I wasn’t going to marry for convenience, so I called her bluff. If you knew my mother, I could only say things got… intense. Bryce is in jail so there was no heir to the throne. Eventually, my mother found a way to break the contract, and I inherited the company.”

“You’re not married.”

“No. There’s only one woman I want to marry. I came to ask you again, Julianna.”

He lifted the white paper with the poem and held it out to her. “This is how you make me feel. I’m not complete without you. I wanted to give you time to find yourself. You can travel, teach, study. I can fly back and forth while we figure it out. We don’t have to rush. I just want to be with you.”

Hope bloomed. Her fingers trembled. A new path rose before her, taunting and sweet in the dying Venice sun. The stanza from Robert Frost teased the edges of her mind. “Two paths diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.”

“I sold the Cliff House. I want to get my PhD and teach. I want to write.” Her eyes burned. “And I want to go with you to England.”

A wild gleam of hope lit amber eyes, then dimmed. “I have to tell you one more thing, Julianna. I was the one who bought the Cliff House.”

“What? But I met the new owner. He’s with the historical society.”

“He's my representative. The house is being held for you, for your family. I wasn’t going to tell you, but I want no lies between us. If you really want to sell it, I’ll do it. If you want to live there, I don’t care. But I couldn’t let it slip away when it’s something I wanted to do for you.”

Julianna looked at the man sitting before her. Tears gathered in her eyes and ran down her cheeks. He’d given her the ultimate gift. Her family home, with no other motive but to make her happy. No strings. No contracts.

Just love.

She leaned forward, framed his face with her hands, and kissed him. The band in the piazza began to play, a low rich melody filled with violins. The sound echoed down the canal in a burst of beauty, and Julianna gave the man she loved her answer.

“I choose you, Jack. I will always choose you.”

He whispered her name and Julianna knew she had finally found her happily ever after.

About The Author

I've always loved to travel as much as I love to write, and enjoy bringing personal experiences to my story. First, you met my characters in the exotic location of Lake Como, Italy in Secrets, Volume 11 “Masquerade.” I took a two week, hectic tour one hot summer with my girlfriend when we were young, single and carefree.

Then I snuck you into my own private yoga studio to meet my characters in the city of New York. I studied yoga and meditation intensely for almost a decade, and a big part of my life took place on that path. This journey will take you to Newport, Rhode Island, where my husband and I spent our first romantic weekend together during our dating period. Now, married for seven years, with two small boys and two rescue dogs, life is more hectic, maybe a bit less romantic, but always soul fulfilling. My favorite part of writing is sharing these stories with my readers. I welcome comments, reflections, and anything else you'd like to share at romancewriter121@yahoo.com

Content

Sex, Lies and Contracts
By
Jennifer Probst

TO MY READERS:

READER ALERT!:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

About The Author