Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Julianna paused at her keyboard, the mouse hovered above the send button.
Nausea hit her belly but she knew there were no other options.
This wasn’t nineteenth-century England and she didn’t belong in the ton.
She had already used her father’s intricate network of social contacts to begin introductions to a number of eligible men, but no one seemed interested in a mousy woman with an old estate and nothing else.
Many of the men she dated locally didn’t have enough funds to support a money suck like the Cliff House.
The ones who did were past seventy, which placed them out of the running.
She didn’t have the money to travel and meet new prospects.
Therefore, there was one social connection she needed to use to further her plan.
The unlimited world of the Internet. Beyond the regular dating apps of swiping right or left, this website boasted social networking circles so tight-knit and secretive, it was more closely guarded than a sex ring.
Her name was her entry. Many men needed to marry in order to secure companies, or meet a mate with certain specifications in order to claim their inheritance.
Others needed an heir. The thought of a child made her heart ache with longing. And hope.
Her ad would be well received by the group and guarded in a private manner. Unfortunately, she had nothing to trade for. Except her name.
Her family came from a long line of aristocrats with royalty in the blood.
Her people, among the first to settle Rhode Island, came from the old English gentry.
In early American days, Newport had been a playground for the rich and famous, from the Vanderbilts to the Astors, and her family had taken a prominent place among them.
Julianna knew some people coveted all that. She counted on some man who liked the idea of a spouse with a family straight from The Great Gatsby. Even if her family was now gone. The past, she’d learned, always survived.
The site catered to men and women who needed to marry for specific purposes.
Julianna’s face burned as she compared herself to a prostitute offering her services.
Maybe the man would request breeding papers as evidence of her birthright.
The bitterness leaked through yet again, and tempted her to consider selling the Cliff House.
Walk away with her pride intact and money in her pocket.
“Promise me...”
Her father’s voice echoed in her mind. Her prison was also her haven. If she sold the house, she’d have nowhere to go. In the past, the lure of the unknown excited and tempted her to explore the world and find who she really was.
Now, the thought made her quake with terror. Here, at least, she was safe. Her family memories burned bright within its walls, and if she left the house behind, she’d have nothing left of her past. Just a broken promise to her dying father.
The endless noose around her neck tightened.
Julianna uploaded her ad and the photo. A plain woman looked back at her, a forced smile on her lips. The specially created email address would receive any initial inquiries or questions before securing a meeting. Julianna took a deep breath and clicked the mouse.
Her fate was sealed.
A knock sounded on the door.
She hesitated, knowing Jack was working outside and having no desire to meet up with him.
She now kept her distance from the sexy gardener who tied her tongue in knots and made her want to do very bad things.
Things she’d craved deep in her soul for so long that she wondered if she’d be satisfied with any man.
She peeked through the window and faced the object of her obsession. Shirtless. Dirty. Sweaty.
Julianna flung open the door, annoyed at the interruption and determined to set him straight regarding their worker/employer relationship.
Then saw the blood.
He held up his hand, wrapped in his white T-shirt and stained muddy brown. His face looked almost sheepish. “Sorry, I had a bit of an accident. Can I use your bathroom?”
Julianna stepped aside and grabbed his hand. She quickly pressed the fabric over the wound and led him down the hall. “What did you do?”
“Made an ass out of myself.” She couldn’t help the tsking sound she made under her breath at his language—her father’s strict rules of propriety drilled into her from birth.
But she fought off a bit of amusement at his temper.
Evidently, he despised making mistakes that cost him blood. Too much blood, by the looks of it.
“Sit down.” She pushed him down on the closed toilet seat, quickly grabbed some washcloths and ran them under warm water.
Julianna winced when she took the shirt away from the gaping wound.
A clean cut crossed his hand, deep enough to warrant stitches from the looks of it.
She dumped the shirt on the floor and began wiping away the dirt. “You may need a hospital.”
He shook his head hard enough to remind her of a little boy refusing to go to the doctor. “I’ll be fine. You shouldn’t use those cloths though—they’ll ruin.”
She shrugged at the delicate rose lace that adorned the towels and kept pressure on the wound. “I do laundry.”
“Yourself?”
Her brow lifted in annoyance. She concentrated on the task and not his curious stare. “I know how to take care of a house. I like my privacy.”
“Still, this is a pretty big house. And you don’t look like the type of woman to…clean.”
Julianna refused to take the bait. She couldn’t help her tendency to screen her face for a calm, emotionless facade.
Lord knows, she’d learned her lesson along the way that temper tantrums or emotional outbursts did nothing to help matters.
“Interesting. You don’t seem like the type of man who doesn’t know how to handle a mower. ”
His rich laughter attacked, then soothed her eardrums. She reached for the brown bottle under the cabinet, determined he would never know how his laughter affected her. “Nice shot. I’m blaming it on the rental company. They gave me crap equipment to work with.”
“Hmmm. OK, this is going to sting.”
She poured a generous dose of peroxide into the gaping wound and felt his muscles strain against the burning pain.
He cursed fluently under his breath and with a creative flair.
Julianna kept her touch brisk and impersonal as she examined the wound, then retrieved the appropriate dressings and tape.
“Were you ever a nurse?” he asked. “You seem good at this.”
“No.”
“You don’t like to talk much about yourself, do you?”
She took out a large bandage and studied his hand to determine the placement.
His skin was still warm from the sun—golden brown, and a bit rough.
A callous rested on the tip of his finger.
She fought back a primal urge to press her lips to his wound to soothe.
The sizzling energy nipped at the nerve endings of her fingers and made her flinch.
She answered his question so he wouldn’t notice her reaction.
“Not really. Let’s just say I received a fine education, then came back to take care of my parents.”
He seemed to wait for more but when she didn’t continue, he prodded. “But you teach. Poetry, right? A full professor?”
“Adjunct. I teach at the local college but never had the opportunity to get my PhD. I did my master’s degree online so I didn’t need to leave the house.”
“And?”
Round and round the tape wrapped around his wrist to hold the bandage in place. “And that’s it. My parents needed someone round the clock and I have no other siblings. I’m the end of the line.” A bit of bitterness leaked through her tone.
“What was wrong with your mom?”
“Manic depressive. She needed to be watched at all times and my father and I were in charge.” Julianna left out the rest. How her traitorous heart finally felt free to go explore and live her life when her mother finally passed. She’d done her duty as the good daughter.
Julianna dreamed of finally allowing herself the freedom to experience sexual ecstasy.
Her body had been as tightly locked up as her mind and emotions, and she longed to immerse herself in pleasure.
Of course, the night she packed her bags she’d discovered her father’s cancer.
Another disease that wreathed and slithered like a snake—poisoning her father’s body and stealing her own freedom. She’d done the only thing left.
Julianna pretended she wanted to stay and take care of him, refusing to leave her father with a stranger to tend to his medical needs. The only money they had left was tied up in the estate. And, after all, she was good at taking care of people other than herself.
“Yet you’re still here.” His words were thoughtful, as if trying to solve a puzzle as she worked on his wound. “Your parents are gone now. Why not leave?”
The ultimate question. Asked yet not answered. The response tripped over her lips in a desperate attempt to escape. She strangled the words and let them die without a trace. “I don’t know.”
She tested the bandage and was satisfied. Her gaze lifted.
And collided with a full-sized predator.
His eyes were a dark stormy blue that reminded her of fierce ocean waves and endless blue skies.
She sensed a woman could fall deep into such depths and lose herself; sensed those eyes could reflect passionate fire or cool ice.
Right now, his gaze seemed to assess her story and challenged for the truth.
“I don’t believe you. I think you know exactly why you’re still here. ”
She retreated behind the familiar wall of distance, refusing to let the sexual heat between them melt her defenses. Julianna had one goal, and a gardener wasn’t going to distract her at this point. Her voice sharpened. “We’re done. You can go back to work.”