“Eden, darling, consider this carefully,” Pamela said. “You don’t have much left in your trust fund, and I certainly can’t support you. Your father has cut you off.”

Eden shook her head. “I-I have to go. It was nice meeting you.” She nodded at Sally Petzell, then hurried back to her bedroom. Eden rummaged through her closet until she found her old luggage, then threw it onto the bed.

“What are you doing?”

She glanced up to see her mother standing in the door. “I’m getting out of here.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. But I can’t stay here. Call a cab for me and have them park up by the Fergusons’ house. I’ll walk up the beach. The photographers won’t know I’ve left.”

“What has gotten into you, Eden?”

“Not what,” Eden replied. “Who.”

“Who?”

She turned and faced her mother. “His name is Marcus. Marcus Quinn. And I’m pretty sure that I’m in love with him.”

IT WAS A PERFECT SUMMER day on Rhode Island Sound, the sky blue, the water calm. Marcus dangled from the bosun’s chair over the bow of the boat, the restored figurehead clamped into place. He braced his hands on the bowsprit and stared up at the mainstay, watching as a small pennant fluttered in the gentle breeze.

He’d been living on board Victorious again, finding the solitude preferable to the emptiness of his loft. Eden had been gone for a week now, and in all that time he’d been unable to convince himself it was for the best.

Every day he woke up hoping that she’d return and every night he’d lain in bed convincing himself that she wouldn’t. Their time together had been a lovely holiday that was never meant to go beyond a couple weeks. Their lives had moved in completely different directions from the start, and though the roads had intersected in one spot, they now veered off again.

He closed his eyes and swallowed back the lump of emotion stuck in his throat. Missing her had become a physical pain, nagging and chronic. His mind constantly replayed their time together, and he lost himself in elaborate plans on how he might convince her to come back.

But always in the end he was left with the realization that what they had shared had been a fantasy come to life and not real life at all.

“Is this what you were looking for?”

Marcus glanced over at his brother Ian and nodded. He held his hand out for the wrench, then fitted it over the bolt.

“It looks really good, Marky,” he said. “You do some amazing work. Hard to believe you started out with those little animals in Nana’s barn.” He shook his head. “Dec and I always used to think you were a queer one, spending all your time up in the haymow. You didn’t talk much back then.”

“I didn’t have a lot to say,” Marcus replied.

“Still don’t,” Ian countered.

“Shimmy out there and put that socket wrench over the bolt. I need to tighten this a little more.”

Ian did as he was told, lying on his stomach and reaching over the bow. Marcus carefully tightened the last bolt, then swung the bosun’s chair back to the rail of the boat. He crawled back on board and dropped the wrench into his toolbox.

“I’m almost done here,” Marcus said. “Maybe a week and that’s it.”

“What’s up after this?”

Marcus shrugged. He felt as if he was at loose ends. In truth, he wanted to go find Eden and make things right between them. Their relationship hadn’t had a proper ending. There were so many things left unsaid that Marcus couldn’t seem to move forward.

“Did you bring my video camera back?” Marcus asked. He’d been waiting for the moment to pose the question casually.

Ian cursed. “Yeah. We didn’t use it after all,” Ian said. “One of the guys brought his camera and it had a tripod. But I lost the tape. I pulled it out of the camera and set it down somewhere and-”

“You lost the tape?” Marcus asked, his stomach twisting into a knot. God, this was all he needed. The furor over Eden’s first sex tape was beginning to cool. All she needed was another home movie to hit the market. Hell, she’d trusted him with this one and now it was out there.

According to Dec, Trevor Ross had purchased the other tape for a tidy sum. Due to that unexplained expense, he’d decided to hold off on further investments, including Marcus’s business. But with the check for the commission and a generous bonus, Marcus had enough to get by for a while.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“I need that tape,” Marcus insisted. “Come on. We’ll go over to the station right now and get it.”

“What is so damn important that it can’t wait a day or two? I have the tape. It’s in my office somewhere, I’m sure of it. Jeez, Marcus, what has gotten into you lately? You’ve been acting really weird,” Ian said.

Marcus shrugged, then grabbed the beer he had wedged against the rail. He stared out at the horizon, his gaze fixed on the white sails of a boat nearly a mile out into the sound. “I was talking to Da the other day. Doing a bit of research on our…project. He told me he fell in love with Ma the moment he first saw her. Do you think that’s possible?”

Ian frowned. “There is something wrong with you.”

Marcus cursed. “Just answer the question. Is it possible to fall in love in a day or a week? I always thought it took a long time.”

“No,” Ian said after some consideration. “I think it’s definitely possible. Yeah, it could happen. Kind of like lightning striking. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it knocks you on your arse.”

“What are the odds?” Marcus asked.

“You want a number?”

Marcus leaned back and closed his eyes, turning his face up to the sun. “Yeah. A hundred to one? A thousand to one?”

“I don’t think it makes a difference,” Ian said. “When it happens, it happens. It’s not a science, Marky.”

“I know.” He paused and glanced over at his brother. “I mean, I figured that’s the way it was.”

“So how are you doing with the pact?” Ian asked.

“Fine. Women don’t come swimming out here every day, so I’m safe.”

Ian lowered his voice. “Between you and me, I think Dec might be breaking the vow of celibacy.”

Marcus scoffed at the notion. “He’s got a girl?”

“You know he’s been playing bodyguard to some radio-talk-show lady named Dr. Devine. He says she’s an uptight egghead, but I’ll bet she’s gorgeous. There’s no way he’ll survive guarding a beautiful body without indulging in it at the same time.”

“Dec is pretty tough when he wants to be,” Marcus said.

“Not that tough. No guy is that tough. We all have our weak spots.”

“Maybe we should call off the deal.”

“No way!” Ian cried. “Dec is going to cough up two thousand, and I intend to make him pay. Hell, he’s the one who suggested this-I think we should hold him to it.”

“I thought you were the one who came up with this brilliant idea.”

“Nope, it was Dec.” Ian pushed to his feet. “Let’s go get some lunch. All this hard work has made me hungry. Afterward, we’ll go look for your tape.”

Marcus got up and gathered his tools, then carried them down to the cockpit. He braced his arms on the boom, his gaze coming to rest on the dock. How many times had he caught himself looking for her, hoping that the next time he looked she’d be standing there waiting for him?

“Get a grip,” he muttered to himself. It was over. And if he wanted to fancy himself in love with Eden Ross, then this torture would go on forever. As soon as he and his brothers called an end to this ridiculous pact, he’d go out and find another woman to occupy his mind-and his body.

Ian climbed down into the cockpit and stood next to Marcus, staring over the water to the Ross mansion. “This is the life, huh?”

“It looks like it from the outside, doesn’t it? But it’s not that much different from ours when you strip away all the pretty stuff.”

Ian gave him an odd look, a frown wrinkling his brow. “You’re turning into a bleedin’ philosopher, Marky. I don’t know the cause, but I’m gonna figure it out.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me,” Marcus murmured. “I swear.”

It was easy to say but not so easy to believe. He was determined to forget her and he vowed to do just that. Starting right now.

EDEN STARED OUT THE tinted window of the limousine, watching the familiar scenery of Ocean Avenue pass by. She’d hopped the red-eye last night at LAX and had arrived on schedule in Providence just shortly after noon. The limo had been waiting and whisked her away on the fifty-minute drive home.

“Home,” she murmured. How many homes had she had over the years? Malibu, Newport, her father’s house in Providence, her favorite hotels scattered across the world, even Victorious had been a home. But home was no longer a place, it had become a person. Marcus Quinn was home to her now.

The limo turned off Ocean Avenue and continued along the winding road toward the water. The gates of her father’s house loomed in the distance, and Eden’s nerves began to fray as they approached. She smoothed the skirt of her tidy Armani suit and ran her fingers through her hair.

She’d called her father yesterday afternoon, requesting a meeting with him. To her surprise, he’d agreed and asked her to meet him at the house for a late lunch.

The limo pulled into the circular drive and her father’s chauffeur jumped out and ran to open her door. Eden thanked him and asked him to leave her bag in the foyer.

With a steely resolve, she walked up to the house and rang the bell. A moment later the door flew open. Sarah Corrigan stood on the other side, a smile coloring her cheeks rosy. The housekeeper threw out her arms and gathered Eden into a fierce embrace. “You’re home.” She kissed both of Eden’s cheeks.

“I am,” Eden said. “I’ve missed you.” Tears flooded Eden’s eyes. She’d avoided seeing Sarah during her last visit, knowing that she couldn’t test the housekeeper’s loyalty to her father. In truth, she’d been so ashamed of her behavior she hadn’t been able to face the woman who was like a second mother to her.

But that didn’t seem to matter to Sarah now. “I’ve made all your favorites. The minute your father told me you’d be coming, I started cooking. And your room is made up.”

She took Eden’s hand and led her through the house. “He’s in the study. I took him coffee a few minutes ago and I think he’s a little nervous. He’s pacing.”

Eden stopped in the hallway and grabbed Sarah’s other hand. “Thank you,” she murmured. “And not just for today but for every day that you watched over me and fed me and read me to sleep. I know I’ve never said this, but you were one of the only people that made my childhood tolerable. And I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you in any way.” Eden sniffled, brushing an errant tear from her cheek. “I just wanted to say that.”

Sarah kissed her again, then pressed her palm to Eden’s cheek. “Go see your father. When you’re finished, you and I will spend some time catching up.”

“I’d like that,” Eden said. She turned to the door of the study and took a deep breath. The rest of her life started today, at this moment. And though she wasn’t sure what the future held, she was finally ready to face it.

Eden knocked softly on the study door, then opened it. Her father looked up from his desk, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose.

“Hi, Daddy,” she said.

“Come in,” he said. He pointed to one of the leather wing chairs, silently ordering Eden to sit. “Your mother says you’ve run through most of your trust fund. I suppose you’re here to ask for money. Well, I’m not going to give you any more.”

“I realize that,” Eden said. “And that’s not why I came.”

“You went through nearly three million in four years, Eden. I put that money in trust for you so that you would get a good start in life, maybe go to school, find yourself a husband, settle down. I’d be a fool to give you more.”

“I know that, too,” Eden said. “And I’m not here to ask for more. I’m here to tell you that I’ve made some decisions about my life.”

“That’s it?”

“From now on, I think it’s best that you hear these things directly from me. You won’t have to read about them in the tabloids.”

He leaned back in his chair and studied her intently. “That will be a change.”

Eden took another deep breath, attempting to calm her pounding pulse. “First, I should tell you that I’ve fallen in love. You may not approve, but that really doesn’t matter to me. I plan to spend the rest of my life with this man.”

Her father threw his hands up and shook his head. “Who is it this time? I hope he has money so he can finance your lifestyle.”

“Actually, he doesn’t. He works for a living. In fact, he works for you. Marcus Quinn.”

Her father gasped. “How is it possible that you even know Marcus Quinn?”