“You are my only daughter. You must promise to keep the family legacy alive.”

A cloud hovered and split open. The ground shook beneath her feet with the fierceness of a woman scorned, and she tilted her face upward as the rain poured down. Her hair lifted and whipped around like Medusa in all of her glory. Julianna gasped as the cold seeped through her bones and re-fired her blood, forcing her heart to pump heavier for warmth. The numbness burst wide open and let all the pain and hurt stream back.

“The Cliff House must be saved. You must marry someone with wealth. Someone who is worthy of you.”

She let out a long, animal wail as the grief took hold. The scene flashed in the sky overhead. Her father dying inch by inch as she watched. The promise wrested from her lips to save their family home. The final closure of his eyes, and the peaceful smile upon his lips as he sealed her Fate.

Her promise would be her sentence.

Her home would be her prison.

Julianna had no one. No siblings. No parents. No cousins. The money was gone, swallowed in a drench of medical bills and mortgage payments. The life insurance would barely pay for taxes and upkeep for the month. She had no one to turn to. The banks and credit unions and friends had nothing left to give her.

She needed to marry. For money, not love. For the home she’d been trying to escape her entire life.

The ocean roared its fury and the sky boomed back.

Her shoulders slumped. The emotions passed as quickly as they had taken hold. Julianna wasn’t surprised. She’d learned young emotions had no place in real life. Not when people depended on her.

She turned from the cliff and walked back toward her house. Her shoes sank into the muddy ground, and her dress hung heavy with wetness as she left the storm behind. The heat of the house pressed down upon her like an oppressive spirit.

Dreams of luxurious travel, hot affairs and a shiny, open world lay behind her. She must do her duty and continue her family’s heritage. Along the way, perhaps the man who was destined to fulfill her promise would be a man she could love.

Julianna shut the door behind her. On the storm. On her grief.

On her future.

Chapter Two

Julianna ducked behind the thicket of wild pink roses and froze. Who was he? Definitely not a tourist. He surveyed the lush grounds of The Cliff House with an assessing air rather than the awe of an onlooker. A realtor? No, she still had time to get the money. She’d used her father’s life insurance policy to pay most of the debt that strangled like a drowning swimmer. This man was no businessman.

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.