Julianna sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the gown. An emptiness had taken root and grew hungrier with each passing day. She wondered if Jack had sailed away yet. Maybe another waterfront town in the hopes of finding something better than his home. Someone better than her. A woman like the one he’d shared dinner with that night.

Choose me.

His plea echoed in her head like a mantra with no ending. He’d called her a hero, yet she’d known the truth. She was a coward. Afraid to really live on her own terms. Afraid to choose the unknown over the dependable. A martyr to the end, she was willing to marry to give her father what he wanted. She was exchanging one prison for another without a fight. She placed no value upon herself.

Until Jack.

How had he suddenly made her feel important? Worthwhile and deserving of love? He’d challenged her body and her mind, pushed her boundaries, and had the gall to ask her to come away with him. Was there another man alive with such audacity? Was there another man alive who was meant to be her true love?

Her nerves raw, she wandered to the sunroom, desperate for a few moments of peace. She sought out her thick poetry book, cracked the spine and opened the page.

And came face to face with Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Juliana fought for breath as her gaze rested on the title, Give All to Love. And then she read.

Give all to love;

Obey thy heart;

Friends, kindred, days,

Estate, good-fame,

Plans, credit and the Muse,—

Nothing refuse.

'T is a brave master;

Let it have scope:

Follow it utterly,

Hope beyond hope:

High and more high

It dives into noon,

With wing unspent,

Untold intent;

But it is a god,

Knows its own path

And the outlets of the sky.

It was never for the mean;

It requireth courage stout.

Souls above doubt,

Valor unbending,

It will reward,—

The hard shell cracked and exposed a vulnerable, gooey center. The realization slammed through her like a hurtling racecar, crashed, and left a trail of crumbled debris in its wake. He’d given her everything he was, offered his heart, and she’d told him he wasn’t enough. Visions of her past flickered before her eyes. How many times had she given up her dreams for the sake of someone else? She had no one to blame, yet she found herself with no one to take care of while still seeking to be a caretaker. She didn’t want to marry someone socially acceptable that she didn’t love. Someone she felt lukewarm with.

She wanted to marry a man who would ignite the night, hold her accountable during the day, and see beyond the surface to the woman she really was. No other man had given her such a gift. Jack Wolfe had looked hard, and loved her anyway.

The room spun and she clutched the book to her chest for support. What good was owning the Cliff House without love? How could she spend the rest of her life regretting her choice and trying to live with a man she never truly wanted?

The answer was simple, held in the pages of poetry, held in her heart.

She’d cancel her wedding, find Jack Wolfe, and beg his forgiveness. She’d sail away with him and let the bank take her home. She didn’t need a home. She needed Jack.

Her legs shook when she stood and made her decision.

First she needed to find Jack. Then she’d speak with Bryce and tell him the truth. He didn’t deserve a wife who couldn’t give her heart to him and make a valiant effort at this marriage. Julianna was positive he’d find another suitable wife in order to inherit his family estate. After all, he was charming, polite, and kind.

Julianna raced out of the house and slammed the door behind her.

* * *

Jack sat on the deck of the boat. A forgotten beer lay beside him on the table, and his head thrummed in rhythm to the screech of seagulls. He sucked in a breath of salt air and his stomach steadied. The hours had passed in a whirlwind, from his arrest, the questioning, and tracking down Bryce. Thank God for the video camera hidden in the trees. Without the tape, the woman could have testified against both of them. She hadn’t known Jack was there to help, and her terror could have easily slanted the situation to make it look like they were working together.

After a few strategically placed calls to England, Bryce’s private investigator was a prime witness against his cousin. The trail of violence and abuse winded long, and hard evidence was needed. Bryce wouldn’t be claiming any family legacy. He’d be spending the next several years in jail. Jack would focus all his energies into making sure justice was served.

As for the woman, he found out her name was Charlotte, and she was going to be fine. He moved quickly to make sure her medical bills were paid, and a sizeable fund was ready to help her transition when she got out. Not that money would help her sleep any better at night. Still, he intended to make sure she got a proper job and anything she needed.

“Jack?”

He jumped and whirled around. Julianna stood on the dock. Her feet shifted back and forth, but her raven gaze was steady. “May I come aboard?”

Jack wanted to say no. He wanted to say yes. The sight of her made the wound throb and re-open. His need for her, and her need for another man’s money. He forced the word out. “Sure.”

She moved with a feminine grace, her white canvas shoes spotlessly clean as she jumped onto the gangway. A simple white t-shirt and cropped shorts covered her body. Her thick dark hair was pulled back in a pony-tail, and her face was scrubbed free of make-up. Jack spotted the telltale freckles sprinkling her nose and noted she’d spent too much time in the sun. Her familiar scent of vanilla and spice rose to his nostrils on the tug of the ocean breeze.

Julianna stopped before him, her teeth nibbling on her lower lip. “I was afraid you’d be gone.”

“I got delayed.”

“You look tired.”

“I am.”

They stared at one another. Jack ached to take her downstairs, tug off her clothes, and bury himself inside her sweet heat. She’d make him forget all the ugliness the day had brought. Halfway tempted to possess her one last time, he turned away and picked up his beer. “What do you want, Julianna?”

“Choose me.”

The bottle stopped halfway to his lips. He frowned, and temper bit into his voice. “What game are you playing with me? Do you want me to fuck you one last time before you get married?”

She flinched, but kept her chin raised. “Jack, I came back to ask you to forgive me. I made a terrible mistake.”

The realization hit him hard. He forced a laugh. “Oh, I get it. You heard the news about Bryce, so you figured you’d run over to me before your second choice sails away. No thanks. I’m no woman’s leftovers, love.”

A frown marred her brow. “What are you talking about? I haven’t told Bryce the truth. Not yet. You were never my second choice, Jack. He was. But I can’t go living a lie and marrying a man I don’t love just because of a promise I gave my father.”

She stepped forward. “I fought my feelings because I thought I owed my family. But my family’s gone.” Her voice quivered. “I’m sacrificing the man I love for an empty house. I was a stupid coward, but I’m not afraid anymore. You made me realize I could go after what I want with no apologies. And I want you.”

Heat wrapped around his cock and squeezed. Then moved up to his heart. Her dark eyes glowed with a passion he’d never seen in the bright light of day.

He studied every feature, probing for deceit, but found nothing but an innocent plea. “What about Bryce?” he asked.

“I needed to tell you how I feel first. I’m going to cancel the wedding. Bryce is a good man, and he doesn’t deserve someone who can never love him.”

My God, she really didn’t know.

He threw the bottle back on the table and rubbed his hand over his face. He needed to tell her the truth. The whole truth. But first he needed to complete one last test.

“What if I tell you it’s too late?” he asked harshly. “I intend to leave Newport this evening. Do you go back to him again and settle?”

“No.” She never faltered, just kept her chin high in the air and let him see naked vulnerability. “I’m never going to settle again. If I lose you, I’m still letting the house go. I’ll find my own way.”

Jack knew then he’d won. He was a prince with his own happy ending. He’d won the woman of his dreams, slain the evil knight, and would sail off into the sunset. He’d also save the Cliff House, so they they’d all get what they wanted. “Come here.”

 She hesitated at his softly spoken command, but closed the distance between them. He trailed one finger down the curve of her cheek and felt her tremble. Satisfaction surged. “Ask me again.”

“I love you, Jack.”

He watched her dig deep for courage, for the grit to ask someone she’d rejected for another chance. He’d never loved her more than in that moment. Her breath broke from her lips.

“Please. Choose me.”

His mouth stamped over hers. An emotional flood rose and churned through his body as her taste and touch swamped his senses. He seized. Plundered. Released. His tongue drank deep until she clutched frantically at his shoulders, ripping at his shirt in a desperate attempt to unclothe him.

The warning bell clanged from somewhere distant and Jack focused on the sound in order to pull him out of sensual oblivion. He lifted his head and admired the sleek sheen of her swollen lips, her raven colored eyes dark with passion. Then he gave the words back. “I love you. I needed to know I wasn’t second choice. I don’t think I could have lived like that.”