"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.
Sex, Lies and Contracts Page 6