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 creme 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 yo
u 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."