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.”

“And if I’m not satisfied with the work?” She bit her tongue the moment the words left her mouth. She’d wanted to disguise her sudden unease with this man’s presence. The corner of his lip twitched slightly and he took a step forward. The scents of fresh grass and sweat and musk drifted on the late morning breeze. “You don’t pay unless you’re satisfied.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “I guarantee I’ve never left a client hanging.”

Raw, sexual heat flooded her face and moved downward. The air hung heavy and still as if ripe for something more… something completely primal. Shocked at her own reaction to this stranger, she fought for control and nodded. “Fine. You’re hired.”

“I can start this afternoon. I’ll go take a look around. By the way, name’s Jack.”

“Jack what?”

He hesitated. “Wolfe. Jack Wolfe at your service.

“Fine,” she said again. Her fingers clenched, and she prayed he wouldn’t extend his hand for a formal introduction. Touching this man was out of the question. “Julianna Elizabeth Waters. Umm, I’m going into town for a bit, but I’ll return later. See you then.”

She turned her back and marched into the house. The cool air hit her skin in welcome relief as she slumped against her door and wondered what the hell she had just done.

Maybe she was sexually inexperienced and deprived, but that was no reason to lust after her temporary gardener. The sheer cliché of it overwhelmed her enough to help her shake off her ridiculous thoughts and get ready to go into town.

* * *

Jack watched Julianna drive away like Smokey and the Bandit. He chuckled freely as he made his way down the path and into town, enjoying the picture of the lady of the manor getting flustered by a working stiff. Mrs. Cutter had given him an earful, and piqued his interest. Julianna had inherited the Cliff House when her father passed on. Supposedly, she had no other family and had fallen onto hard financial times. Her neighbor gleefully pointed out the neglected property, then launched into her assessment of Julianna’s personal life. No men in the picture. Mrs. Cutter had first thought the young lady was a lesbian, but learned she had dated a few men in town and turned them down after a few dates. She was snobby, arrogant, and distant. She never got involved with the neighbors or the historical foundation or the efforts to increase tourism in Newport.

Jack kept quiet while he drank iced tea, let the woman ogle him, and took in all the town gossip. He’d decided early on that Newport, Rhode Island was a perfect town for him to settle in for a week or so. The "city by the sea" boasted a perfect marina to dock his schooner, and odd jobs to take advantage of. Right now, he wanted to meet some local women and sail. In order to keep up his ruse, he’d hired himself out as a handyman and gardener, and knowing how fast gossip spread, planned to treat himself to a few intimate encounters this week to go fishing—literally—for possible mates.

Unfortunately, Julianna Waters intrigued him.

He’d caught her off guard, spying on him. Her plain appearance and clipped, polite tone wreaked havoc with the heat in her dark eyes. Her brown hair was caught up in a severe twist pinned to the top of her head. She wore little make-up, and a smattering of freckles sprinkled her nose. Her lips were full and pouty like a bee sting not yet healed. Her chin held a stubborn tilt, and he’d noticed she clenched her teeth and fingers automatically, trying to keep her nervousness from showing. She’d obviously been attracted to him, and even Jack had been taken aback by the sexual punch between them. But she was so uncomfortable with her body and reaction that he couldn’t help teasing her.

The woman seemed buttoned up so tight and proper that it would take a heavy-duty crane to get her out of her clothes and into bed. Those lips were a waste and obviously underused. Her body had curves galore, lush hips and generous breasts, but the way she kept herself in check told him volumes. He wondered what she'd look like during orgasm. He wondered what it would take a man to get her there.

He wondered if he was the man who should try.

Jack wiped the sweat off his brow and shook his head. No, he didn’t have time for such diversions. She’d make a terrible wife—everything he didn’t want, and he had no time to play games. Julianna obviously needed a rich man to bail her out of her financial crisis. Dinner conversation with someone so stiff-necked and proper would be sheer torture. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on her. He pitied the poor man she set her sights on, but maybe he could do the guy a favor and loosen her up a bit.

He grinned at the thought and headed for his boat.

* * *

Julianna checked her appearance in the mirror and nodded with satisfaction. The sundress was demure but a bright, happy yellow, which gave her mousy hair a bit of help. The last time she’d dared to put highlights in to jazz things up, she’d suffered with an orangey tint that wouldn’t wash out. She should have learned early on that she was not the type of woman to court style or flash. Even her makeup looked like it had faded, and she had just applied it half an hour ago.

She smoothed her topknot, grabbed her sunglasses and headed out the door.

And crashed into her newly hired gardener.

The breath left her body in a big whoosh as she rammed into a superhero-hard chest, damp with sweat. He righted her immediately with a firm grip on both her arms. Julianna jerked back as his fingers burned into her flesh, then swiped off his touch like a child not wanting to catch cooties.

Damn him. He forced the oddest reaction from her. She’d never met a man who made her so nervous. One sun-bleached brow arched at her response, and heat flooded her cheeks. She forced herself past the embarrassment and met his gaze.

“Sorry.” His badass grin said he was nothing of the sort. “Was just going to throw myself on your mercy for some water.”

“You didn’t bring any?”

His lip twitched at her outright rudeness. “Drank it all.”

Julianna glanced at her watch. “I have some bottled water inside, I’ll get you some.” She turned and opened the door. He followed her.

“Gonna be a hot one,” he said.

“Summer usually is.” She retrieved two bottles and handed them to him. He thanked her, but didn’t budge from the foyer. He motioned toward the high vaulted ceilings elaborately painted and the spiral staircase that echoed images of Gone with the Wind. The open rooms boasted formal antiques, rich wood, and polished marble. “Nice place.”

“Thank you, Mr. Wolfe. Now unless you need anything else—”

“Jack.”

“Right. Jack. I must be going.”

“Looking mighty pretty and bright as the sun. Lunch date?”

He was quite the charmer. Evidently, Jack Wolfe was used to getting whoever he wanted when he wanted her. Probably with a “pretty please” from the female recipient, if that body was any indication of his stamina. She fought a smile, knowing her sex factor was pretty low on the Richter scale. Men didn’t bother with plain women like her. Unless he was bored. Julianna crossed her arms and narrowed her gaze.

“Yes, that’s correct. I have a lunch date. Will you be finished by the end of the week?”

He lifted his battered blue cap and scratched his head. “Should be, as long as the retaining wall holds. It’s pretty weak, so it might need replacing. Will let you know later this afternoon.”

“I’ll want an estimate if that’s the case.”

“Of course. What do you teach?”

“Excuse me?”

“You teach, right?”

“How did you know that?” Julianna tried not to sound accusatory, but the idea of this man knowing anything about her personal life seemed… disturbing.

“Your neighbor. Mrs. Cutter. She said you teach classes and took care of your parents.”

Her tone reflected pure ice. “I don’t approve of gossip.”

White teeth flashed as he grinned. “Not gossip if it’s the truth. Something tells me you teach… English.”

She pursed her lips. “Poetry. I have to go.” She walked straight through the door and assumed he’d follow. Thank God he did. She locked the door and jingled her keys in her hand. “Let me know about the wall.”

“Sure. Have fun with the ladies.”

Julianna hated his correct assumption. So she lied. “I’ll have fun on my date.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Hmm. Mrs. Cutter said you always have lunch with the girls on Tuesday afternoon. 1:00pm. At The Black Pearl.”

Temper made her turn on her heel. She glared at him from behind tinted lenses. “Well, she’s wrong. What else did Mrs. Cutter tell you about me?”

He obviously enjoyed her annoyance. He took his time and uncapped the bottle of water. Removed his ball cap. Dumped the water over his head.

Julianna’s breath caught. Her body slammed into overdrive at the raw sexual scene before her. Water dripped from his thick blond hair and ran down his face. Over a carved jaw. Slid down to dampen perfectly cut lips.

His t-shirt soaked up the liquid and clung to his chest like a Women’s Night gone wild. Hunger hit hard and deep as she followed the trail down to his belt buckle, where droplets slid under the denim and hid beyond. Her pussy grew tight and uncomfortable. And as wet as that bottle of water. Her mouth fell open like a guppy’s. She snapped it shut and struggled to look unaffected.