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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.”