“I’m so sorry I hurt you,” she whispered. “I’ll never again give you reason to distrust me. I’ll always tell you the truth. I have to find Bryce to finally finish this so we can get on with our lives.”

The warning bell screeched. Unease slithered through his body, and he released her. “I have to tell you something, Julianna. Something about Bryce.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I left him a message, but I need to find him. He’s not at the local hotels, but I’m supposed to meet him for dinner tonight at seven. I have to cancel the flowers, and call up the people we invited and then—”

“Bryce is in jail. He’s being held on charges of attempted murder.”

Color drained from her face and she swayed on her feet. “What?”

He wrapped his arms around her waist for support. “I know it’s a lot. I’ve been keeping some things from you, too. I need to tell you everything now.”

“Jack, what the hell is going on? Do you know each other? He couldn’t possibly have done something like that—”

“Bryce is my cousin. He followed me here from England when he found out my interest in you. He set up the whole meeting.”

Julianna shook her head hard. “No, you’re wrong. When I realized I couldn’t get the money, I placed an ad at a restricted website for women and men looking to marry. He answered my ad. He knew nothing about you.”

“Bryce hired a private investigator to go through your house. He reviewed all your files and the activity on your computer. He was looking for something to use against me, and he found it in you.”

She took a step back and held up her hands in defense. “That’s impossible.” She forced a laugh. “This makes no sense. Bryce is a rich man who needed to marry to inherit the family business. Wait a minute….” She trailed off and studied him hard. He allowed her the time to chase her thoughts. “You left to get away from the family business. Bryce told me his cousin was trying to steal the business even though he wanted no part of it. You belong to the same family?”

Jack nodded. “The company is Woodward Shipping based in England. I’m next in line to inherit, but I am compelled to marry before the company can be transferred to me. Bryce has been ruthless with his attempts to be the one who inherits. I had no idea he was this obsessed, or so sick. I found out he’s been securing prostitutes and beating them up, along with a many other women along the way.”

Jack let out a breath. “At first, I was so angry with you, I was about to sail back home and let you marry him. But when I found out he was dangerous, I couldn’t let that happen.” He quickly relayed the story of his stake-out, the videotape, the police, and the arrest. “Whatever happens, he’s ruined and he’s never going to hurt you or any other woman again.”

He reached out to touch her, but she turned away. He allowed her the space and told himself to be patient. This was a lot for Julianna to handle. She needed to accept that Bryce was a monster and Jack had deceived her. Of course, he was positive she’d understand. After all, she’d been the one to declare she only wanted to marry a man with money.

“If Bryce was your cousin, and you knew I was in trouble, why did you lie?”

“I was angry. You had clearly declared I wasn’t good enough for you because you wanted a man with money. Imagine how I felt? I only realized what Bryce was up to that night I saw you at dinner. I had no idea he was the man you were seeing, or that he was even in town.”

She nodded slowly. His muscles eased a notch. “I see,” she said. “So, from the very first you lied to me. You were never a gardener or a handyman. Your family business is one of the biggest companies in the world. What were you doing here, Jack? Or is that your real name?”

He refused to wince and stood his ground. “My real name is Jack Woodward. When my mother informed me I wouldn’t inherit the company unless I married, I decided to travel to see if I could find a woman who’d love me for myself. Not my money or title or company. I decided to go undercover, pick up a few odd jobs, and be a normal guy. I picked Newport because I wanted to sail and we have a satellite company here. I could check in on things and give myself the time and space I needed to meet someone on my own terms.”

His gaze raked over her figure. “I wanted you the moment I saw you. I figured you were a stuck-up, cold socialite who only cared about money. Yet, each time I spoke with you, you got under my skin.”

“You were testing me.” She shuddered and wrapped her arms tight around her body. “I failed the test because I wanted a man with money. What were you doing with that other woman at dinner? Auditioning her for the role of your wife?”

He took slow steps toward her and closed the distance. “I knew you were meant to be mine. No other woman ever stood a chance. And now I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

Her eyes widened. “Give me what? My reward?” Her face changed. Pure feminine temper burned from dark eyes, flew from her pores, and twisted her mouth. “Did you actually think you’d proudly announce you’re rich and make this whole charade go away?”

Jack pulled her against her chest and ignored the warning signs. “I can give you The Cliff House. You can keep your promise to your father, and we can have each other. Dammit, Julianna, we can have it all!”

Like a cat dropped in water, she literally spat and hissed. “We have nothing! We have sex and lies. I fell in love with Jack Wolfe, a man who worked with his hands, and made me laugh, and gave me orgasms night after night. A man who quoted poetry and burned with righteous pride when I told him I needed money.”

“I’m the same man. The man I wanted to be when I came here. The real me.”

“I don’t know the real you, Jack.” The fight went out of her and she grew limp in his arms. “I don’t know anything, except I can’t be with you. Did you really think you could make an entire existence disappear because you wanted it to happen? Or I’d drop to my knees, grateful I’d get the money as a bonus prize because I passed your test?”

The fragile thread holding his own temper frayed. “You’re not making any sense. You’re upset and overwhelmed and need some time.”

“Yes,” she said woodenly. “I need lots of time. Everything I believed in was a lie. You. Bryce. Dear God, I was going to marry a man tomorrow I thought was sweet and kind, and he's in jail for doing these terrible things to women. For attempted murder!" She shuddered. "I feel dirty, and stupid, and used."

"You're in shock. If I had any idea you were in danger, I would've told you the truth from the beginning."

"Gee, thanks. That makes everything okay."

"Julianna—"

"Go home, Jack. Go back to England where you belong and leave me alone.”

“Not without you.”

Her laugh held no humor. “There is no us. I won’t be your bride because the clock is ticking. I won’t give up my life for the promise of something that may not make me happy. You taught me that.”

“Maybe I need to remind you another way.”

His mouth took hers. She fought with fists and nails, teeth and feet, but he managed to drag her to the cabin and pin her to the bed. He used his tongue to pleasure, while his hands ripped at her clothes, under her panties, and plunged into wet, pulsing heat. She arched into his hand while she cursed him, yet beneath the rage was a sexual firestorm that seared flesh and pushed away all civil boundaries. He rubbed her clit with his thumb and hit her g-spot with pounding fingers. She clenched around him and climaxed while he tore off her shorts, unbuckled his pants, and thrust into her. She cried out his name as he drove into her, over and over, leaving her nothing left to hide or a shred of untruth between them. They both peaked together and held on as the shock waves held him mercilessly. When Jack was finally able to lift his head, he looked into her face.

A face he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Her skin glowed with pleasure, her eyes dreamily half closed and swollen lips emitting breathless gasps as she returned to sanity. Their gazes locked, and he drowned deep in a pool of inky blackness, touched her soul, and was changed forever.

“I love you, Jack.” Her words were whisper soft in the dimly lit room. “But I can’t do this anymore. I need time to figure out what I want on my own terms now. And not on anyone else’s agenda.”

She got up from the bed, straightened her clothes, and walked away.

Jack let her. Once again, he had given her everything, and it still wasn't enough. He watched her go without a word and wondered if his heart would ever be whole again.

Chapter Nine

Julianna sat in the Piazza San Marco at Cafe Florian, sipped her cappuccino, and watched the swarm of pigeons entertain the tourists. She lifted her face to the weak light of the sun and breathed in the scent of espresso and rich chocolate. The musical chatter of Italian rang through the square and caressed her ears like poetry.

And she thought of him.

She shook her head and mentally berated herself. Surrounded by lush architecture in the world’s most beautiful city, her first thought was of Jack. Venice called to her poet's soul, a mixture of old and new, heartbreaking beauty mingling with a dirty earthiness. The water lapping at the gondolas on the Grand Canal, the streets narrow and twisted with broken pavement. The people who swarmed the shops and cafes glowed olive brown and bellowed enthusiastic "Buon Giornos." Julianna buried herself in the sights and sounds with a headiness she hadn't felt since Jack Wolfe made love to her.

She wished he were here.

Three months of silence and heartache. Three months of saying good-bye to her past and seizing her own future. Yet every carved line of his face, every lean muscle was remembered. The tigerish gleam in his eyes, and the thick tawny strands of hair that fell over his forehead. The musky scent of his skin and the full curve to his lower lip.

She fought a sigh, tore off a piece of flaky pastry and popped it in her mouth. She’d done the right thing. Though she’d forgiven him, she needed time to make her own choices. The night on the boat had changed her forever. For the first time, she saw her life clearly and realized each step had led to her final decision as she looked into the eyes of the man she'd always love.

Jack believed the end had justified the means. With the villain safely jailed, the prince unveiled, and the spinster rewarded, he assumed the happily ever after. Instead, she glimpsed only each untruth in every step of a charade. The shock of his betrayal, of Bryce's ruse and violence, and the path her life could have taken if she'd uttered those vows. She glimpsed her own role in a Shakespearean tragedy. When Jack dragged her to the bedroom, her body had surrendered to everything he was, but she knew it would not be enough.

Julianna closed her eyes at the memory. She'd been a coward, ignoring her own dreams for somebody else's. Hiding from the woman she’d always wanted to be. She realized that if she accepted Jack's proposal, she'd never know what her own choices would have been, or how her life would lead. She'd set up house in England, with her home safe, and always wonder if Jack would have married her if not for his need to inherit.

Saying good-bye to him almost destroyed her. Instead, she picked herself up and made some hard choices. For herself, and for no one else.

Selling the Cliff House was devastating, but necessary. She’d found a generous buyer interested in historical houses who paid in cash. She settled her debts, put her stuff in storage, and took a three-week trip to Italy. After her vacation, she’d settle in a new town, put down roots, and pursue her PhD.

But she wondered every day who Jack Woodward had married.

She tried not to snoop, but found a short announcement. Woodward Shipping now belonged entirely to Jack Woodward, heir and son of the late Edward Woodward. She’d clipped it out of the paper, stuck it in her drawer, and cried the whole night. The next morning, she stuck her chin up, booked her airfare, and refused to look back.

Well. Only occasionally.

The waiter stopped by her table. “Signorina, this came for you.” He handed her an envelope, bowed his head and left. Julianna looked around, puzzled, and tore open the letter. Her gaze scanned the paper, stopped, and began to re-read.

Dear Julianna,

Time has passed. So much time, I wonder how I can express myself without trite polite words getting in the way of how I feel. How I’ve felt since the moment you left me. Instead, I’m borrowing someone else’s words, in the only way I know to show you the truth. So, I give you a sonnet by William Shakespeare.