Sex, Lies and Contracts by Jennifer Probst


  "I love you, Jack."

  Triumph coursed through him. He reached for her, but she held out two hands in an effort to ward him off. He finally caught the sheen of tears in her eyes. The slight tremble of her lips. And he listened to her words while he felt his world slowly break apart around him.

  "But I can't marry you. I have to marry Bryce."

  A deep freeze settled over him. He studied her with a hard, assessing glare. "Is this about money?"

  She flinched, but stayed her course. He gave her credit. She looked at him straight on and nodded. "I made my father a promise before he died. The Cliff House is the only family legacy left to us. We lost everything with the medical bills, upkeep, mortgage. The money's all gone. My father asked me to do anything in my power to keep our home. I looked for loans from anyone. Time was running out and the house would have foreclosed. I can't let that happen, Jack. Even if I have to marry for it."

  She took a deep ragged breath and sat up in the bed, the sheet tightly clutched to her breasts. "You made me fall in love with you. But if I don't marry Bryce, I'll break the only promise I ever made to my father. I can't do it. So I can't choose you."

  He let the words wash over him and permeate each layer of his body until they reached the beat of his heart. He felt as if something died deep inside. There was no happily ever after. Bad sometimes wins over good.

  Still, he needed to live with no regrets. Now he understood why she needed the money. The final puzzle piece locked into place and the reality lay before him. She'd never craved money for her own needs. Her promise to her father was key. Jack realized the woman before him had given over her entire life to promises she'd made to other people. None for herself.

  He needed her to trust him, to reach deep inside and let herself go in order to give them a shot at having something real. So, he choked on his pride. "I'm asking you to choose me over your father." His body burned with urgency, mentally screaming for her to pick him so they could share a life together. He picked his words carefully. "You may not think I have much, but I can take care of things, Julianna."

  He'd give her no more. He needed her to choose with a clear conscience. For love. Not money.

  She bowed her head, and her glorious umber hair slid over her face and teased the tips of her breasts. When she looked up, he watched one lone tear skate down her cheek. But her face was carved from stone. "I can't marry you, Jack," she said softly.

  Silence descended. He nodded and rose from the bed. After dressing quickly, he paused by the door and took one last glance at her. Said farewell to the one woman who'd stolen his heart, but didn't want it.

  "Good night, Julianna."

  Then he left.

  Chapter Seven

  Jack stiffened when he heard footsteps on the dock, but his senses told him it wasn't the woman he loved coming back to beg his forgiveness. Even the air smelled stale in the presence of evil. He got up and met his cousin halfway.

  "Bryce."

  "Hello, Jack. Figured you'd be here licking your wounds in private. Would you like to talk?"

  Jack studied his cousin and relied on his gut instinct. Something else was going on, and he needed to find out what. His cousin had discovered his secret, focused on Julianna, and got her to agree to marriage. All to spite him? Or to beat him in the rush to claim the company?

  "Come aboard. Drink?"

  "Guinness, please. Thanks."

  They settled on the deck with their stout and pretended civility. From years of experience, both were masters of the game. Jack took a swig. "What do you want?"

  Bryce threw his head back and laughed. "Why, Jack, I have everything I want. I'm in the perfect position. I'm going to marry Julianna and inherit the company. Your time is up, and you're no closer to finding your wife. The company will default to me immediately."

  Jack studied his cousin's perfect profile and called his bluff. "No, it won't. I'm sailing back to England and announcing my engagement."

  The other man's lips tightened. "To whom?"

  "Rachael. The woman my mother had her hopes pinned on. So, you lose. Now you're stuck with someone you don't even love."

  Darkness stole over Bryce's features. Jack watched the tendril of loathing writhe from gun-metal eyes.

  "If I lose in this, Jack, I'll make sure she pays."

  Jack didn't move a muscle. "What are you talking about?"

  Bryce relaxed again, assured he was back in control. "I'll make sure she's miserable. I'll hurt her, Jack. Quietly, of course, but enough so she knows to be afraid of me."

  The breath whooshed out of him like he'd been clubbed. "If you hurt her, I'll kill you."

  Bryce waved off the quietly spoken threat. "You won't be able to stop me. There are delicate ways of torturing women. You remember by handiwork in the old days, don't you, cousin? Of course, you were always a bit squeamish. I'll start our honeymoon off by forcing her to tell me everything you've done together. Then I'll do it to her and make sure she likes it better."

  Jack lunged for him, but his cousin had already jumped out of his chair in anticipation of the move. "Calm down, Jack. Of course, I'm only kidding. Still, if you allow me to win this round gracefully, I'll let her go. I have a long line of women in England I can marry in a heartbeat. You can be with Julianna and be second in command. We can run the company together like I've always wanted. Think, Jack. We can actually have it all if you'll just think the whole thing through."

  "I'll tell her the truth. She'll never marry you."

  "We're getting married on Friday." Bryce clucked in mock sympathy."You lied to her. I didn't. I told her about my worthless cousin who sails in his free time and refuses to run the company. I told her why I want to marry, where I come from, and my real name. You look like a scam artist. She'll never believe you now, Jack."

  "I'll make her believe me."

  Bryce grinned. "You had your chance." His voice dropped to a whine. "Choose me, Julianna. Please." His cousin laughed out loud. "I knew she'd choose the money over you. I waited for you to confess you had the money. The game would have changed. But you kept quiet, and she betrayed you. You were always blind when it came to women. Still, you have a soft spot for her, which will be quite useful to me."

  Jack clenched his fists. "You bugged her room, didn't you? You fucking bastard. You were listening to us all along."

  He raised a mocking brow. "Of course. How else was I to figure out the rules of the game?"

  Jack shook off the rage and clawed for control. He needed to buy time. Time to figure a way out of this mess and save everyone. "Get off my boat. I'll think about it."

  Bryce walked off the boat. "I'll wait for your decision. Always nice talking with you."

  Jack grabbed for a shred of control to keep from beating the crap out of him. He promised vengeance later. His cousin would pay, but now he had precious little time to come up with a plan.

  He realized it was time for answers. And serious help.

  Jack picked up his phone and dialed his mother.

  ****

  Julianna sat on the soft grass and studied the graceful lines of the rock wall in her backyard. The job looked flawless. Heavy cut colored stones climbed upward and set off a trickling waterfall. The rush of cool water spurted from the wall and trickled down into a clear glassy pool. Moss floated on the surface, and the sound of crickets and croaking frogs drowned out the voices in her head. She curled her bare toes into the damp soil and wondered again if she had made the biggest mistake of her life.

  She never planned to fall in love with a gardener. He had stated his intention to take care of her, and Julianna could only imagine how she had stomped on his pride by saying it wasn't enough. How could she ask Jack to sacrifice all his money to save something he didn't care about? And it could never be enough. A few thousand wasn't enough to plug one hole in the overwhelmed financial dam. She couldn't drag him down with her for a promise she'd made.

  The future was reasonably certain with Bryce. He knew the truth ab
out the money required to save the Cliff House and had no problem with it. He needed to marry in order to inherit his family company, so they'd be helping each other. She'd live in England the bulk of the time, and a few months at her family home.

  Bryce wanted children and a family. She was good at appearances. She could be a proper companion and keep the family name pure. Everything she'd been training for all her life.

  She'd have to give up teaching, another compromise to be swallowed. But at least she'd be safe. In another house, in another country, but the Cliff House would stay in her family. She'd have kept her promise. After all, what else could she do?

  Her body ached for Jack. His image flickered behind her closed eyelids at all hours of the night, his fierce urging for her to choose him. What would it feel like to be a woman who followed her heart? Who threw caution and promises to the wind and went after what she wanted?

  She'd never know.

  Her future was set. At least, her husband was someone she might grow to love. In time. She needed to focus on the goal, because if her gaze strayed from the path, she'd jump over the stone wall and race down to the marina and ask her lover to take her away.

  Julianna closed her eyes and prayed for strength.

  ****

  Jack ducked behind a large oak tree and froze. The curtain at the window swished back and forth, but the house remained quiet. He studied the layout of the rustic cabin, set back deep enough in the woods to confirm his suspicion.

  Bryce was a sick son of a bitch and it was time to expose him. The call to his mother had been difficult, but necessary. She needed to know the truth about his cousin. Instead of questioning him, she'd believed him immediately and set to work. Tracking down Bryce's personal private investigator was key, and completed within a few hours. A heavy payoff and threats of exposure easily swayed the man to switch sides. Now the surveillance equipment was safely installed in the cabin, where Bryce had requested another woman be delivered tonight.

  Jack was alone and had flown the PI back to England after he completed Bryce's task. Jack had to be the one to put his cousin in jail. He walked a fine line, and he wasn't comfortable with it. He needed Bryce to cross the line into violence with the prostitute in order to get evidence on tape. This meant allowing a woman to be hurt. That sickened him, but at least this time Bryce wouldn't follow all the way through with it.

  He winced as the image on the small video screen revealed the woman half naked and accepting Bryce from behind. Jack looked away, the violence and lust on Bryce's face too much to stomach. When he was spent, he directed the woman to suck him off, his fingers ruthlessly twisting her hair to deliberately cause her pain. When the woman choked, Bryce slapped her hard and made her start again.

  Jack waited, controlling his urge to intervene as he watched the images flicker across the screen. He realized he was at fault for allowing his cousin to run rampant, never realizing the extent of his abuse. The detective had told him stories he only half believed. How could his cousin continuously hurt innocent victims? Why had no one talked or pressed charges?

  But it was as bad as he'd been told. Bryce threw the crying, begging woman on the bed and tied her up. When the knife came out, Jack knew he'd had enough. The weapon allowed him to bump up the charges and crossed into severe criminal activity.

  He raced to the door, used the key Peter had provided. Three sharp kicks broke the chain on the door. When he entered the bedroom, Bryce faced him, cool and calm, holding the knife to the woman's throat. "Hello, cousin. Have you come to join the fun?"

  The raw terror on the woman's face affected Jack in a way he'd never forget. He knew if he hadn't carried out this plan, Julianna would have been the one tied to the bed. He took a deep breath and deliberately remained casual. He kept his gaze on Bryce's face and away from the knife.

  "Is this how you relieve boredom now? By hurting innocent women?"

  Bryce twisted his face into a grimace. The knife shook slightly. "Innocent? You mean a whore I paid good money for, to do as I wished? Women know exactly what they're doing, including your precious Julianna. But I'll be giving her a lesson soon. Screwing around with you, when I'd told her I needed a virtuous wife. Let's see how she lies her way out of that one."

  "You won't be getting anywhere near Julianna again. The game is over. Put down the knife, Bryce, and let her go. This is between you and me."

  The woman whimpered as the knife moved. A thick trickle of blood ran down her neck. She cried out and begged. Bryce smiled as if the sounds were sweet music. "Don't think so. Hmmm, scenario may need to be changed. I'm not sure how you found my hideout, and something tells me you're going to refuse my logical offer. Perhaps you're more ruthless than I thought. What should we do? I know. I kill the girl and pin the crime on you. Your princely reputation will finally be ruined."

  Jack kept his voice steady. "We both lose then. Cops make things a mess. Murder has a long reach, even over to England. Ever heard of extradition?"

  As a sequence of emotions flickered across the other man's features, Jack estimated his distance from the girl. If Bryce went for her, could he reach her in time? Fuck, he'd never forgive himself for not intervening sooner. Little meows of terror leaked from her bloody lips, pleas for his help. He had to make his cousin turn the knife away from her. Then he might reach her in time..

  "I have a solid alibi," Bryce contradicted. "You don't."

  "You bought one, and so could I," Jack said easily. His heart pounded and sweat broke out on his brow. "Listen, Bryce, let her go and we'll make a deal. Or if you've got the balls, come after me. Maybe then we'll see who's meant to be king."

  Bryce grinned. The knife flashed.

  A scream ripped from the woman's mouth seconds before the blade sliced her throat. Jack lunged and suddenly the bloody weapon was pushed into his hands, staining flesh and the white fabric of his shirt a vibrant red.

  He tore the sheets off the bed and pressed the cotton against the gaping wound. He dropped the knife on the floor and groped for his cell phone to dial 911, praying the woman lived and he hadn't participated in her murder by trying to obtain evidence. He spoke the address into the phone and murmured soothing nonsense as he felt the woman shudder, shake, and then slowly still. He figured she'd gone into shock, so he kept the pressure on the wound and looked fiercely into wide blue eyes.

  "Hang on. Don't you dare leave me. I promise to get that son of a bitch if it's the last thing I do, but I need you to stick with me. We're going to get him together. I swear to God no one is ever going to hurt you again. Are you listening? Stay with me!"

  She slipped in and out but watched her battle to keep her focus on his face. Seconds felt like hours, and then the shrilling siren pounded in his ears, and there was a rush of emergency medical workers who pushed him aside and took over trying to keep her alive. Jack stood, dripping in blood, the knife at his feet, and watched them work. Then the sound of another siren pulling in front of the cabin, and two cops rushed through the door.

  "Get down! Get down now!"

  Jack hit the floor, hands on top of his head, as two cops trained their gun on him and cuffed him. His last image before things went black was not his cousin's face as he used the knife, or the terrified look on the woman's face, or the gushing blood.

  It was Julianna's face.

  Chapter Eight

  Tomorrow was her wedding day.

  Julianna stared at the simple white gown hanging by the closet. Clean lines flowed from a strapless neckline and gathered in a bow in the back, then spilled to the floor in a rush of lace. The dress screamed elegance and practicality, especially for a small garden wedding with a few guests. She had no maid of honor, no close friends or family. Her lunch friends were acquaintances she kept up for appearances' sake and no one knew the extent of her desperation. She'd invited a few neighbors and co-workers from the college in an effort to make memories of the only wedding she'd ever have. She couldn't stand the idea of a justice of the peace. Much too imperson
al. So she'd say her vows at the Cliff House, drink some champagne, and pack her bags for England.

  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,

 
Previous Page Next Page
Should you have any enquiry, please contact us via [email protected]