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.”