“I saw the way you were looking at me just now. It isn’t too late to renegotiate, Jules.”

The heat of his gaze instantly warmed the blood pumping through her veins. He very quickly made her aware of every inch of her body and how she responded to him.

“Yes it is,” she said. “Way, way too late.”

“Well then, I guess I’m just trying to be nice.”

He made her reluctance to accept his offer seem childish. “Of course,” she said, but a part of her still wondered. There were too many undercurrents running between their every interaction.

They had been apart for so long, most days it was easy to ignore what had happened between them. But now they were looking at months together. In close quarters.

Julianne had the feeling that the pressure cooker they’d kept sealed all this time was about to blow.

* * *

Her Secret Husband is a Secrets of Eden story: Keeping their past buried isn’t so easy when love is on the line.

Her Secret Husband
Andrea Laurence

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ANDREA LAURENCE is an award-winning contemporary romance author who has loved books and has been writing stories since she learned to read and write. She always dreamed of seeing her work in print and is thrilled to be able to share her books with the world. A dedicated West Coast girl transplanted into the Deep South, she’s working on her own “happily ever after” with her boyfriend and five fur-babies. You can contact Andrea at her website, www.andrealaurence.com.

To My Fellow Desire Divas

Jules Bennett & Sarah M. Anderson—

The day my editor announced my first sale to Harlequin Desire on Twitter, I was greeted with congratulations from a hundred people I’ve never met. You were two of the first to welcome me as fellow Harlequin Desire Authors and you’ve had my back ever since that day. I never felt like the new kid in class. Thanks for the support, the laughs and the Lego movie trailers.

Contents

Cover

Excerpt

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

One

“Your dad’s heart attack was pretty serious this time.”

The doctor’s words did little to make Heath Langston feel better about his foster father’s condition. He stood outside Ken Eden’s hospital room, listening to the doctor’s prognosis. He felt helpless, which was not the way he liked it. He might be the youngest of the “Eden boys,” but he owned his own advertising firm on Madison Avenue. He’d single-handedly developed one of the most successful ad campaigns of the last year. He was used to everyone, from his secretary to his business partner, looking to him to make decisions.

But this was serious stuff. Life and death. Not exactly his forte. Ken and Molly Eden’s only biological child, Julianne, hadn’t stopped crying since she arrived. Heath preferred to keep things light and he’d much rather see Julianne smile, but even he couldn’t find anything to make a joke about right now.

The Edens’ five children had rushed to their family farm in Cornwall, Connecticut, the moment they’d gotten the call about Ken’s heart attack. Heath had gotten into his car and bolted from New York City, not knowing if his foster father would be alive by the time he got to the hospital. His biological parents had died in a car accident when he was only nine years old. He was a grown man now, the CEO of his own company, but he wasn’t ready to face losing another parent.

Heath and Julianne were the last to arrive and were receiving the report the others had already heard.

“He’s stable now, but we were lucky,” the doctor continued. “That aspirin Molly gave him may have made all the difference.”

Julianne’s tiny figure stood in front of him. Despite the doctor’s serious words, Heath couldn’t keep his eyes from going to her. She took after Molly, being petite but powerful. Today, she looked even smaller than normal, with her shoulders hunched over and her head dipped down to focus her eyes on the floor. Her blond hair had been long and loose when she’d first arrived, but after sitting forever in the waiting room, she’d clipped it up into a messy twist. She shivered at the doctor’s words and tried to snuggle deeper into her green cashmere sweater.

Heath put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. His brothers each had their fiancées to hold for support, but he and Julianne were both alone. His heart went out to her. He hated seeing his feisty, confident artist looking so broken. Although they’d grown up in the same house, she had never been a sister in his mind. She had been his best friend, his partner in crime, and for a short time, the love of his life.

Knowing they had each other in this dark moment made him feel better. Tonight, he hoped they could put their tumultuous past behind them and focus on what was more important. Since Julianne didn’t pull away, she had to feel the same. Normally, she would give him a playful shove and artfully dodge the physical contact, but not today.

Instead, her body slumped against him for support, her back pressing into his chest. He rested his cheek against the gold strands of her hair and deeply breathed in the scent that was imprinted on his brain. She sighed, sending a tingle of awareness traveling along his spine. The sensation turned the doctor’s voice into a muffled mutter in the distance. For a moment, there was only him and her. It wasn’t the most appropriate of times, but he would revel in the contact.

Touching Julianne was a rare and precious experience. She had never been a very physically demonstrative person, unlike Molly, who hugged everyone she met, but she kept an even greater distance from Heath. No matter what had happened between them all those years ago and who was to blame, in a moment like this he regretted the loss of his best friend the most acutely.

“He’s going to need open-heart surgery. After that, he’ll have to stay in ICU a few days until we can move him to a regular room.”

“How long until he’ll be able to come home?” Julianne asked, making Heath feel guilty for where his mind had strayed. Even as they touched, she was focused on something more important than the two of them and their history together. It was enough for him to straighten up and put some distance between their bodies once again. He opted to focus on the doctor’s answer instead.

The doctor frowned. “I don’t like to set expectations on this kind of thing, but as I told the others, he’s going to be with us a week at least. He might need to go into a rehab center for a while. Maybe he could be at home if there’s a bed downstairs and a nurse could be brought in. After that, he’s going to have to take it easy for a few months. No lifting, no climbing stairs. He won’t be cutting down pine trees this Christmas, that’s for sure.”

That decided it. With everything else that was going on, Heath had already been thinking of taking a few months off to return to his foster parents’ Christmas-tree farm. A body had been discovered on former family property last Christmas and it had recently been identified as Tommy Wilder, a foster child who had stayed briefly on the farm. Heath and the other Eden children knew that Tommy had been dead nearly sixteen years, but the police investigation was just now heating up.

Heath had been torn between wanting to keep up with every news story on television about Tommy and wishing he could just pretend the bully had never existed. Unfortunately, he knew well that ignoring issues wouldn’t make them go away.

As much as he hated to admit it, it was time for Heath to come home and answer for what he’d done. It was just Ken and Molly on the farm now, and although they knew nothing about the truth behind Tommy’s disappearance, they were having to deal with the police investigation on their own. According to his only biological brother, Xander, the stress of Sheriff Duke threatening to arrest Ken had put him into the hospital today.

It was bad enough that one person was dead because of Heath’s mistakes. He couldn’t bear it if someone else, especially someone innocent like Ken, also fell victim.

The doctor disappeared and he and Julianne made their way back to the waiting room area, where the rest of the family was assembled. His three brothers and their fiancées were scattered around the room. Some were reading magazines, others were focused on their phones. All looked tired and anxious. “I’ll be coming to stay at the farm until Dad is better,” he announced to the group. “I can handle things.”

“I know it’s only the beginning of October, but Christmas will be here before you know it,” his oldest foster brother, Wade, pointed out with a frown furrowing his brow. “The last quarter of the year is always a nightmare. You can’t take all that on by yourself.”

“What choice do we have? All of you are busy. My business partner can run Langston Hamilton for a few months without me. And I’ve got Owen,” Heath added, referring to the Garden of Eden Christmas Tree Farm’s oldest and most faithful employee. “He can help me with the details. When Christmas comes, I’ll hire some of the high school and college boys to bag and haul trees.”

“I’m coming home, too,” Julianne announced.

The whole family turned to look at her. She’d been fairly quiet since she had arrived from the Hamptons, but only Heath seemed to realize the significance of her decision. She was volunteering to come home, even knowing that Heath would be there. While she visited the farm from time to time, it was very rare that the boys were there aside from Christmas celebrations. Volunteering to spend months with Heath was out of character for her, but she wasn’t exactly in a good headspace.

Despite how small and fragile she looked, there was a sternness in her eyes. Unfortunately, Heath knew that look well. The hard glint of determination, like emeralds, had set into her gaze, and he knew she wouldn’t be dissuaded from her decision. Once Julianne’s mind was made up about something, there was no changing it.

Even without Heath there, her coming to the farm was a big deal. Julianne was a sculptor. Both her studio and her boutique gallery were in the Hamptons. It wasn’t the kind of job where you could just pick up your twelve-hundred-pound kiln and work wherever you like.

“What about your big gallery show next year?” Heath said. “You can’t afford to lose two or three months of work to come down here.”

“I’m looking to set up a new studio anyway,” she said.

Heath frowned. Julianne had a studio in her home. The home she shared with her boyfriend of the last year and a half. It was a personal record for her and everyone thought Danny might be a keeper. Looking for a new studio meant looking for a new place to live. And possibly a new relationship.

“Has something happened with you and Danny?” their brother Brody asked, saving Heath the trouble of nosing into her love life.

Julianne frowned at Brody, and then glanced around at her protective older brothers with dismay. She obviously didn’t want to talk about this now, or ever. “Danny and I are no longer ‘Danny and I.’ He moved out about a month ago. I needed a change of scenery, so I’ve sold the house and I’m looking for something new. There’s no reason why I can’t move back for a few months while Dad recuperates. I can help around the farm and work on my art pieces when we’re closed. When Dad’s feeling better, I’ll look for a new place.”

Heath and the other boys looked at her dubiously, which only made the color of irritation flush her pale, heart-shaped face. “What?” she said, her hands going to her hips.

“Why didn’t you say anything about your breakup with Danny? And selling your house? You two were together a long time. That’s a pretty big deal,” Xander noted.

“Because,” Julianne explained, “three of you guys have gotten engaged recently. It’s bad enough that I’ll be going stag to all of your weddings. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to telling all of you that I’ve got yet another failed relationship under my belt. Apparently I’m doomed to be the old maid in the family.”

“That’s hardly possible, Jules,” Heath said.

Julianne’s cool, green gaze met his. “Point is,” she continued, deliberately ignoring his words, “I’m able to come home and help, so I will.”

Heath could tell by her tone that the discussion was over for now. Taking her cue, he turned to the rest of his siblings. “Visiting hours are about over, although you’ll pay hell to get Mom from Dad’s bedside. The rest of us probably need to say good-night and head back to the farm. It’s been a long, stressful day.”

They shuffled into Ken’s hospital room, the dark, peaceful space ruined by the beep of Ken’s heart monitor and the low rumble of the voices on his television. There was one light on over the bed, illuminating Ken’s shape beneath the off-white blanket. He was nearly as pale as the sheets, but it was a big improvement over the blue-tinged hue his skin had taken on earlier. His light blond, nearly white hair was disheveled from constantly pulling out his oxygen tube and putting it over the top of his head like a pair of sunglasses. Molly had obviously forced it back into his nose recently.

She was sitting in a reclining chair beside him. It was the kind that extended into a bed and that was a good thing. Molly wasn’t going anywhere tonight. Her normally cheery expression was still pasted onto her face, but that was more for Ken’s benefit than anything. Heath could tell there wasn’t much enthusiasm behind it. They were all struggling just to keep it together for Dad’s sake.

Ken shifted his gaze from his favorite evening game show to the group of children huddled at his bedside. Heath realized they must look ridiculous standing there. Five rich, successful, powerful people moping at their father’s hospital bed, unable to do anything to help. All their money combined couldn’t buy Ken a new heart.

At least, not legally. Since they’d already done their fair share of dancing on the wrong side of the law and had enough police lurking around their property to prove it, they’d stick with the doctor’s recommendations for now.

“There’s not much happening here tonight,” Ken said. He tried to cover the fact that speaking nearly winded him, but he had to bring his hand to his chest and take a deep breath before saying anything else. “You kids get on home and get some rest. I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere, anytime soon.”

Julianne stepped to his side and scooped up his hand. She patted it gently, careful not to disturb his IV, and leaned in to put a kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Daddy. I love you.”

“I love you too, June-bug.”

She quickly turned on her heel and moved to the back of the group so others could take their turns. She’d let the tears on her cheeks dry, but Heath could see more threatening. She was trying to hold them in and not upset Ken.

One by one, the rest of them said good-night and made their way out to the parking lot. The hospital was a good distance from Cornwall, so they merged onto the highway and made the long, dark drive back to their parents’ farm.

Wade and Tori returned to their nearby home, but the rest of the family continued on to the farm. The boys each parked at the bunkhouse, leaving an impressive display of luxury vehicles out front. Heath was last, pulling his Porsche 911 Carrera in between Xander’s Lexus SUV and Brody’s Mercedes sedan.

Twenty-five years ago, the old barn had been converted into a guest house of sorts, where the foster children who came to live at the Garden of Eden would stay. It had two large bedrooms and baths upstairs and a large common room with a small kitchenette downstairs. It was filled with old, but sturdy furniture and all the comforts teenage boys needed. Heath was the youngest of the four boys who had come to the farm and stayed until adulthood. These days they spent their time in multimillion-dollar mansions and apartments, but this farm was their home and when they returned, the boys always stayed in the bunkhouse.

Heath watched Julianne pull her red Camaro convertible up closer to the main house. The old Federal-style home was beautiful and historic, but it didn’t have enough space for a large crew of children. Ken and Molly had a bedroom, their daughter, Julianne, had a room and there was one guest room.

She stood on the porch, fumbling with her keys and looking lost. Heath didn’t like that at all. Normally, Julianne was a woman who knew exactly what she wanted from life and how to get it. But tonight she looked anything but her normally spunky self. Nearly losing Ken right after things went south with Danny must have been more than she could take.

Heath grabbed his overnight bag from the trunk of his Porsche and followed the group into the bunkhouse. He set his duffel bag on the old, worn dining room table and looked around. The downstairs common room hadn’t changed much since he’d moved in, aside from the new flat-screen television Xander had purchased during his recent stay.

There was a sense of comfort in being back home with his family. He imagined that wouldn’t be the same for Julianne, who would be returning to an empty house. Heath might not be the person she’d choose to stay with her tonight, but he wasn’t going to argue with her about it. He wasn’t leaving her alone.

“Hey, guys,” he said to his brothers and their fiancées as they settled in. “I think I’m going to sleep in the big house tonight. I don’t like the idea of Jules being alone. Not after the day we’ve had.”

Xander nodded and patted him on the shoulder. “That’s a good idea. We’ll see you in the morning.”

Heath picked up his bag, stepped out and then jogged across the grass and gravel to the back door.

* * *

Julianne knew she should go to bed; it had been a very long day with unexpected twists and turns, but she wasn’t sleepy. She’d woken up worried about her work and the fallout of her latest failed relationship. Then the phone rang and her world turned upside down. Her previous worries were suddenly insignificant. She’d dropped everything, thrown some clothes in a bag and hit the road.

Even now, hours later, she was still filled with nervous energy. There was a restless anxiety in her muscles, the kind that urged her to go to her workshop and lose herself in the clay. Usually, immersing herself in her work helped clear her mind and solve her problems, but all the pottery in the world wouldn’t fix this.

She settled for a cup of chamomile tea at the kitchen table. That might bring her brain down a few notches so she could sleep. She was sitting at the table, sipping the hot tea, when she heard a soft tap at the door. The door almost immediately opened and before she could get up, Heath was standing in the kitchen.

“What is it?” she said, leaping to her feet. “Did the hospital call? Is there a problem?”

Heath frantically shook his head, making one curl of his light brown hair dip down into his eyes. He held up his hands in surrender and she noticed the duffel bag on his shoulder. “No, no problem. Dad’s fine,” he insisted. “I just didn’t want you to be alone in the house tonight.”

The air rushed out of her lungs in a loud burst. Thank goodness Dad was okay. Her heart was still racing in her chest from her sudden panic as she slipped back down into her chair. She took a large sip of the scalding tea and winced. After the day she’d had, she didn’t need Heath hovering nearby and the distracting hum of his presence in her veins. An hour after they had left the hospital, she could still recall the weight of his hand on her shoulder and the comforting warmth of his chest pressed against her. The contact had been innocent, but her eyes had fluttered closed for a moment to soak in the forbidden contact. She’d immediately snapped herself out of it and tried to focus on her father’s health.

“I’ll be okay alone,” she said.

Heath dropped his bag onto the wooden floor and flopped in the chair across from her. “No, you won’t.”

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and middle finger. She could feel a headache coming on and that was the last thing she needed. Of course, she could take one of her migraine pills and knock herself out. That was one sure way to get to sleep tonight, but what if something happened to Dad?

When she looked up at her guest, she found herself getting lost in the light hazel depths of his eyes. Heath was always happy, always ready with a joke or a smile. But tonight, his expression was different. There was a softness, a weariness, that lined his eyes. He looked concerned. Worried. But not for Ken. At least not entirely. He was concerned about her.

As always.

Julianne wouldn’t make light, even in her own mind, of Heath’s protectiveness of her. He had gone to extraordinary lengths to keep her safe. She knew that anytime, day or night, she could call him and he would be there. But not just because they were family and he cared about her. There was a great deal more to it than that and tonight was not the night she was willing to deal with it.

“Thank you,” she said at last. She wasn’t going to put up a fight and force him into the bunkhouse. She didn’t have the energy to argue and frankly, it would be nice to have someone in the big, creaky house with her. No matter what had happened between them over the years, she always knew she could count on him to respect her boundaries.

“It feels weird to be in the house without Mom and Dad,” he said, looking around at the large, empty kitchen. “Mom should be fussing at the sink. Dad should be tinkering with farm equipment outside.”

He was right, but she didn’t want to think about things like that. Those thoughts would require her to face the mortality of her aging parents. Dad would come home this time, but eventually, he wouldn’t. She’d rather pretend they were immortal, like she had believed as a child. “Would you like some tea?” she asked, ignoring his words.

“No, I’m fine, thanks.”

She wished he would have accepted the tea. That would have given her something to do for a couple of minutes. Instead, she had to sit idly and wait for the questions she knew were coming. They hadn’t been alone together and able to really talk since before she had left for college eleven years ago. That had been by design on her part. There were so many thoughts, so many feelings she didn’t want to deal with. Looking into Heath’s eyes brought everything back to the surface. The burning attraction, the anxiety, the overwhelming feeling of fear...

“So, what happened with you and Danny? That seemed kind of sudden.”

Julianne sighed. “We decided we wanted different things, that’s all. I wanted to focus on my art and building my career. Things have really taken off and I want to strike while the iron is hot. Danny wanted to take our relationship to the next level.”

A spark of interest flickered in Heath’s light eyes, his full lips pursing with suppressed amusement. “He proposed?”

“Yes,” she said, trying not to let the memories of the uncomfortable moment flood into her mind. She’d told him repeatedly that she wasn’t interested in marriage right now, and kids were far, far on the horizon. And yet he’d asked anyway. He seemed to mistake her hesitation as her playing hard to get or using reverse psychology with him. She wished she knew why. She’d given him no signals otherwise. “I refused, as politely as I could, but he didn’t take the rejection very well. After that, we decided if we weren’t moving forward, we were stagnating. So he moved out.”

Danny had been a great guy. He was fun and exciting and sexy. At first, he hadn’t seemed interested in settling down. Given her situation, he was the perfect choice. She didn’t want to get too serious, either. They wouldn’t have even moved in together if he hadn’t needed a new place on short notice. He must have seen that as a positive relationship step, when in fact it was simply practicality and economics. In time, it was just easier to stay together than to break things off and cause an upheaval.

“You didn’t want to marry him?” Heath asked.

Julianne looked up at him again and shook her head in exasperation. That was a ridiculous question. He knew full well why she’d turned him down. “No, I didn’t. But even if I did, what was I going to say to him, Heath?”

There was a long, awkward silence before Heath spoke again. “Jules?”

“Listen, I know I brought it up, but I really don’t want to talk about it tonight.” Julianne sipped the last of her tea and got up from the table. “With Dad and the stuff with Tommy, I can’t take any more drama.”

“That’s fine,” he said as he leaned back into the wooden chair and watched her walk into the kitchen. “But considering we’re going to be spending the next few months together, you need to come to terms with the fact that we need to talk about it. We’ve swept the issue under the rug for far too long.”

She knew when she made the decision to come home that this would happen. No matter how uncomfortable it might be, she knew they needed her help on the farm, so that was where she would be. There wasn’t anywhere else for her anyway. She had sold her house. Closing was next week, and then she was officially homeless. She had to come back here. And she had to deal with her past once and for all.

Julianne looked over at the funny, charming man that had stolen her heart when she was too young and messed up to know what to do about it. Even now, the soft curve of his lips was enough to make a heat surge through her veins and a longing ache in her belly. It took almost no effort at all to remember how it felt when he’d kissed her the first time in Paris. The whisper of his lips along her neck as they admired the Sagrada Família in Barcelona...

Her parents thought they were sending their two youngest children on an exciting graduation trip through Europe. Little did they know what freedom and romantic settings would ignite between their daughter and their youngest foster child. Heath wasn’t her brother. She’d known him before his parents died and had never thought of him like a brother. He was her best friend. But if she ever wanted him to be something more, she had to deal with the past.

“Agreed,” she said. “Once Dad is stable and we have some time alone to talk, I’m ready to deal with it.”

Heath narrowed his gaze at her and she knew instantly what he was thinking. He didn’t believe her. She’d been feeding him excuses and dragging her feet for years. He probably thought she got some sort of sick pleasure from drawing all this out, but that was anything but true. She was stuck between not wanting to lose him and not knowing what do with Heath if she had him.

A lifetime ago, when they were eighteen and far, far from home, he’d wanted her. And she’d wanted him. At least, she thought she had. She was young and naive. Despite the attraction that burned at her cheeks when he touched her, she’d found she couldn’t fully give herself to him in the heat of the moment.

“It’s been easy to ignore while both of us were in school and building our careers,” Heath said. “But it’s time. Your recent breakup is one of several signs we can’t disregard any longer. Whether you like it or not, eventually you and I are going to have to face the fact that we’re still married.”

Two

He’d laid his cards out on the table. This would end, and soon. After several minutes spent in silence, waiting for her to respond to his declaration, Heath finally gave up. “Good night, Jules,” he said, pushing up from his seat.

With Ken’s attack, he understood if she couldn’t deal with this tonight, but he wasn’t waiting forever for her. He’d already wasted too much time on Julianne. He picked his bag up off the floor, and carried it down the hall and up the stairs to the guest bedroom.

The guest room was directly across the hall from Julianne’s room and next to the bathroom they would share. He could count on one hand how many times he’d slept in the big house over the years. It just wasn’t where he was drawn to. The big house was beautiful and historic, filled with antiques and cherished knickknacks. Most anyone would be happy to stay here, but Heath always felt like a bull in a china shop when he was in the house.

As kids, the bunkhouse was the ideal boy zone. They could be rowdy because the furniture was sturdy but old, there were no breakable antiques and downstairs was all wood flooring, so they could spill and not stain the carpet. There was a big television, video games, a foosball table and an inexhaustible supply of soda and other snacks to fuel growing boys. Things had changed over the years, but being there with his brothers again would make it feel just the same.

Tonight, he made an exception and would stay in the big house for Julianne’s sake, but it would be a mistake for her to confuse his gesture as weakness where she was concerned. Any love he had for her had fizzled away when she’d slammed her dorm room door in his face.

For years, he’d been as patient as he could stand to be. He knew now that he had been too nice. He’d given her too much space and let her get too contented. There was no incentive for her to act. That was going to change. He had no intention of being easy on her while they were here. Whatever it took, no matter how hard he had to push her out of her comfort zone, he would leave this farm a happily divorced man. Heath knew he shouldn’t enjoy watching Julianne squirm, especially tonight, but he did.

Eleven years of marriage without his wife in his bed could do that to a guy.

He opened the door to the guest room and put his bag down on the white eyelet bedspread. The room was intricately decorated, like the rest of the house, with antique furniture, busy floral wallpaper, lacy curtains and shelves filled with books and framed pictures. As he kicked out of his Prada loafers, he noticed a portrait on the wall in a carved, wooden frame.

It was of Julianne. One of her elementary school pictures, although he couldn’t be sure what year. Her golden hair was pulled up into a ponytail, a sprinkle of freckles across her nose. She was wearing a pink plaid romper with a white turtleneck underneath it. She looked just as he remembered her.

He had fallen in love with Julianne Eden the first time he’d seen her. They were in Mrs. Henderson’s fourth-grade class together. The cheerful blonde with the curly pigtails and the bright smile had sat right next to him. Whenever he forgot his pencil, she would loan him one of hers. They were pink and smelled like strawberries, but he didn’t care. He left his pencil at home on purpose just so he could talk to her.

He’d fabricated childish plans to marry Julianne one day. It seemed like a pipe dream at the time, but one day on the playground, she kissed him—his very first kiss—and he knew that she was meant to be his. He’d even made her a Valentine’s Day card to tell her how he felt.

He never gave her the card. The weekend before their class party, his parents were killed in a car accident. Heath had been in the car at the time, but his injuries, while serious, had not been fatal. When he was finally discharged from the hospital, both he and his brother, Xander, had found themselves in the care of Family Services. The next thing he knew, they were living at the Christmas-tree farm on the edge of town and the beautiful golden-haired girl of his dreams was supposed to be his “sister.”

He had outright rejected that idea right away. They might live in the same home, but not once in twenty years had he ever referred to her as “sis” or “my sister.” She was Jules, usually; Julianne when he was speaking about her to the uninitiated.

He’d given up the dream of ever marrying his childhood love soon after coming to the Garden of Eden. Julianne never kissed him on the playground again. They were friends, but that was all. It wasn’t until they were seniors in high school and the only kids left on the farm that things started to change between them. The trip to Europe had been the tipping point. Unfortunately, it hadn’t tipped in his favor for long.

That seemed to be Julianne’s M.O. Since they’d broken up, she had dated, but from what he could tell, never seriously and never for long. None of the brothers had ever met a boyfriend. She never brought one home to the farm. Danny had come the furthest, moving in with Julianne. She didn’t really let any man get close, but Heath wasn’t certain what was the cause and what was the effect. Did their marriage fail because she didn’t do relationships, or did her relationships fail because she was married?

He had unpacked a few things and was halfway undressed when he heard a soft tap at his door. “Come in,” he called out.

Julianne opened the door and stuck her head in. She started to speak, and then stopped, her gaze dropping from his face to his bare chest. He tried not to move, fighting the urge to puff up his chest and suck in his stomach. He liked to think he looked pretty good without all that, but it was such a reflex. He jogged the High Line every morning and lifted weights. As a child, he was always the smaller, scrappier of the boys, but no longer. He might be the shortest, at six feet, but he could take any of his brothers and look good doing it.

The dumbstruck Julianne seemed to agree. A crimson flush rose to her delicate, porcelain cheeks. Her full bottom lip hung, useless, until her tongue shot across it and her mouth slammed shut.

If Heath had known strutting around shirtless would get this kind of reaction from her, he would have done it a long time ago. Nothing made her more uncomfortable than the topic of sex. If he’d pushed the issue, perhaps he’d be happily single or happily married right now. Watching her reaction, he thrust his hands in his pockets. His Dolce & Gabbana slacks rode lower with the movement, exposing the trail of hair beneath his navel and the cut of his muscles across his hips.

Julianne swallowed hard and then shook her head and shifted her gaze away to the nearby armoire. “I’m s-sorry,” she stuttered. “I didn’t realize you were...”

“It’s okay,” Heath said with a sly smile, enjoying her discomfort. “I’m not bashful and it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

She shook her head, sending a wave of the luxurious golden strands over her shoulders. “I don’t remember you looking like that,” she said, quickly bringing her hand up to cover her mouth. She looked embarrassed to share her observation aloud.

Heath glanced down at the display of his own body and shrugged. “I’m not eighteen anymore.”

He supposed he would be struck just as hard to see her topless after all this time. Hell, he’d barely seen her naked back then. Sometimes when he was feeling particularly masochistic, he would allow himself to imagine what she looked like now beneath her sweaters and her jeans. The teenage girl he loved had become a very sexy and gifted woman. Any gangliness had been replaced with lush curves and soft, graceful movements. Beautiful and aggravating.

She stood awkwardly in the doorway, nodding, not looking at him, not saying anything for a few moments.

“Did you need something?” Heath prompted at last.

Her green gaze shifted back to his, her purpose suddenly regained. “Yes. Well, I mean, no. I don’t need anything. I, uh, just wanted to say thank you.”

“Thank you? For what?”

“For staying here with me tonight. I know you’d rather be laughing and chatting with Xander and Brody. You guys never get to see one another.”

“I see them more than I get to see you,” Heath said before he could stop himself. It was true. As children, they had been inseparable. She was his best friend. The marriage that should have brought them even closer together had driven them apart and he still didn’t understand why. “I miss you, Jules.”

A sadness crept into her eyes, a frown pulling down the corners of her mouth. “I miss you, too, Heath.”

“Be honest. You avoid me. Why?” he asked. “Even if we divorced, I get the feeling that you’d still be uncomfortable around me.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” she said, but not convincingly.

“Am I being punished for what happened between us?”

Julianne sighed and slumped against the door frame. “It’s not about punishing you. And no, it’s not about what happened in Europe, either. There are just things in our past that I don’t like thinking about. It’s easier to forget when I don’t see or talk to you.”

“Things in our past? Wait...” he said. “Are you blaming me for what happened with Tommy Wilder?”

“No!” she spoke emphatically, raising her palm up to halt him. “You are my savior. The one who protected me when no one else could.”

“But you think of that horrible night when you look at me?” Heath was almost nauseated at the thought.

“No,” she insisted again, but less forcefully. “If that were true, I never could’ve fallen for you. It’s just easier for me to focus on the future instead of dwelling in the past. Our relationship is in my past.”

“Not according to the public records office. It is very much current and relevant. Ignoring things won’t change them. It just makes it worse.”

Julianne chuckled and crossed her arms over her chest. “Believe me, I know. I just don’t know what else to do about it.”

“We get divorced. We can’t just stay married forever.”

“It’s worked okay so far.”

Now it was Heath’s turn to laugh. “Says the woman that just broke up with her boyfriend when he proposed.”

“I didn’t...” she began to argue, and then stopped. “This conversation has strayed from what I’d intended when I knocked. Thank you, again,” she repeated. “And good night.”

Heath watched her slip through the doorway. “Good night,” he replied just as the door shut. Once he was certain she was settled in her room, he cast off the rest of his clothes and crawled into bed in his boxer shorts. The bed was soft and inviting, the sheets smelling like the lavender soap Molly used for linens and towels. The bed very nearly forced him to relax, luring him to the edge of sleep faster than he ever thought possible.

Things hadn’t worked out between him and Julianne, but he wasn’t stupid. He had long ago set aside any idea that their farce of a marriage might become something real. They’d never even consummated it. He’d thought she would come around eventually. It was her first time, perhaps she was just nervous. But then she left for her art program in Chicago without even saying goodbye. He chased after her, driving all night to figure out what was going on. He’d imagined a romantic moment, but instead, she’d told him their marriage was a mistake, he needed to forget it ever happened and practically shut her dorm room door in his face.

He’d been devastated. Then the devastation morphed into anger. Then indifference. After that, he’d decided that if she wanted a divorce so badly, she could be the one to file. So he’d waited.

Eleven years.

As she’d mentioned, it hadn’t been a problem. At least, logistically. He hadn’t met a single woman that made him want to walk down the aisle again, but it was the principle of the thing. She didn’t want him, and yet she was resistant to let him go. Julianne always seemed to have an excuse. They were broke. They moved around too much after school to establish residency. They were busy starting their businesses. Her appointment with her divorce attorney was rescheduled, and then rescheduled again.

After a while, he began to wonder if she would rather stay married and keep it a secret than file for divorce and risk people finding out she’d married him. Her big mistake.

He’d known her since they were nine years old and he still didn’t understand what went on in that beautiful blond head of hers.

* * *

Julianne sat in a rocking chair on the back porch clutching a big mug of steaming coffee. She had barely slept last night and she desperately needed the infusion of caffeine to make it through today. She’d lain in bed most of the night thinking about Heath and how he was so close by. Her mind had wandered to their first trip together and how wonderful it had been. Even as young as they were, he’d known just how to touch her. With the backdrop of Europe, so romantic and inspiring, behind them, she thought she might be able to overcome the fear. She’d been wrong.

The familiar ache of need had curled in her belly, but she’d smothered her face in the pillows until it faded. It didn’t matter how much she’d loved him back then. How much she wanted him. It didn’t stop the fear from nearly strangling her with irrational panic. If she couldn’t give herself to Heath, the one who protected her, the one she was closer to than anyone else... When it came down to it, she had been too messed up back then to be with anyone.

Heath was right, though. They needed to move on. She’d dragged her feet. Hoping the words would come easier after all this time, she made excuses. If the years had taught her anything, it was that the truth could be more painful than a lie. She lied for everyone’s sake, including her own. To have a real, honest relationship with Heath, she would have to tell him the truth about their wedding night. And she just couldn’t do it.

That meant that all there was left to do now was clean up the tattered remains of their relationship.

And there would be time for that soon. Other more pressing issues had to be addressed first, like arranging her move and seeing her father through his heart surgery, but even those could wait until after she’d had her coffee and settled into her day. It was early. The sun had just come up. Heath was still asleep and there was no sign of life from the bunkhouse. For now, it was just her, the cool air and the pine forest that spread out in front of her.

At one time in her life, those trees had been her sanctuary. Whenever something was troubling her, she could walk through row after row, losing herself in them. And then Tommy Wilder came to the farm. She never imagined someone could hurt her so badly and not kill her. The physical scars healed, but the emotional ones lingered. The trees had turned their backs on her that day, and she’d refused to go out there any longer. The boys had gladly picked up her share of chores in the field and she took on more responsibility in Molly’s Christmas store. Her mother thought that it was Julianne’s budding artistic spirit that drove her out of the trees and into the shop.

That was so far from the truth. It was actually the other way around. Her refuge in the shop had fueled an artistic creativity in her she didn’t know she had. She started helping Molly decorate and make wreaths, but soon she was painting the windows and molding Nativity scenes out of clay. She was keeping so many painful, confusing things inside; it was easy to give her mind over to the intricacies of her art. It was only her good fortune that she was talented at what she did and was able to turn her therapy into a career.

The rumble of car tires across the gravel caught her attention. A moment later, Molly’s Buick rounded the house and parked beside her Camaro.

Julianne got up and walked to the stairs to meet her. “Morning, Mama. Is Daddy doing okay?”

Molly nodded. “He’s fine. Feeling well enough to shoo me home for a while. His surgery is tomorrow morning, so he wants me to take a break now, while I can.”

That sounded like Daddy. He hated to be fussed over, just like she did. “I’ve made some coffee.”

“Thank goodness,” Molly said, slowly climbing up the stairs. “That sludge at the hospital hardly qualified.”

They went inside and Julianne poured her a large mug with a splash of cream and one spoon of sugar. She joined her mother at the kitchen table, where she and Heath had had their uncomfortable conversation the night before. Looking at the weary, worn-out woman across from her, Julianne knew she just couldn’t let her parents find out she’d eloped with Heath right out of high school.

It wasn’t because of whom had she married, or even how. If Julianne hadn’t been such a mess and things worked out, Molly wouldn’t have been happy about them eloping, but she would have come around. The problem was explaining what went wrong between them and why she wasn’t willing to work things out. Everyone would want to know how they could marry and break up in an instant. She couldn’t even tell Heath that. How could she tell her parents, who had no clue that Tommy had ever laid a hand on her, much less ruined their daughter?

Julianne refused to be anything other than the cool and confident daughter of Ken and Molly. She supposed it was growing up as the only child of parents who desperately wanted more children. They loved her without question, but at the same time, they were always vocal about their disappointment in having only one. When they started taking in foster children, it made it even harder to get attention. At first, she tried to excel in school to prove to them that she was good enough to make up for being the only one. She was well-behaved, polite and never caused the tiniest problem for her parents.

It had worked. To a point. They were always quick to praise her, but her parents continued to bring in foster children. Perfection became her way to stand out and get noticed. It wasn’t until after the incident with Tommy that she threw an uncharacteristic fit and demanded her parents stop bringing in other children and pay attention to her for once. It was selfish. And she felt horrible doing it. But she couldn’t risk another boy coming to the Garden of Eden who might look at her the way Tommy did.

“Are you doing okay this morning?” Molly asked her.

“Yeah. Heath stayed in the guest room so I wouldn’t be alone. We talked last night and a couple of us are going to come stay here for a few months. Through the New Year, at least, to help with Christmas and such.”

Molly’s chin shot up—her mother was ready to argue—but she stopped herself and nodded. They both knew she couldn’t run the farm alone. Her petite frame and increasingly stiff fingers couldn’t haul Christmas trees twice her size. Having the kids here would take the pressure off of her and keep Ken resting the way he should. “Which of you are coming up?”

“Heath and I. He’s taking a few months away from the advertising agency. I’ve sold my house in Sag Harbor and I’m moving here until Dad is better, then I’ll find someplace new.”

“What about you and, uh...” Molly’s voice trailed off.

Her mother couldn’t remember the name of her boyfriend. That said volumes about her ill-fated relationship history. “Danny,” Julianne offered. “We’ve broken it off.”

“Oh,” Molly said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Liar,” Julianne said, smiling into her coffee mug as she took a sip.

Molly shrugged, but didn’t argue with her on that point. “I’ve been speaking with a private medical care company about bringing your father home to recuperate instead of putting him in a nursing home. They recommended moving a bed downstairs, and they could provide a live-in nurse for a few weeks.”

“That sounds perfect.” She wanted her father to have the best possible care, but she hated the idea of him in a nursing home, even if temporarily.

“Well, except that you’d have to stay in the bunkhouse. We’d need to move one bed downstairs and have the other for the nurse. Is that okay?”

“Absolutely,” Julianne responded, although the idea of close quarters with Heath didn’t thrill her. Last night was bad enough. “It will give me some room to store my equipment, too.”

“Speaking of which, what about your studio? And your gallery showing? You have to keep working, don’t you?”

“The store is fine without me. My place in the Hamptons does too well to move and my staff there run it beautifully. As for my studio, I’m thinking I can work here and it wouldn’t impact the show. Since I’m staying out there, maybe I can use part of the bunkhouse.”

“You know,” Molly said, “the storage room there hasn’t been used in ages. We could clean that out and you could use it.”

“Storage room?”

“Yes. You know what I’m talking about. In the bunkhouse, under the staircase. It’s about twelve by twelve, I’d say, with a window and its own door to the outside. That’s where we used to hide your Christmas presents when you all were small. Right now, I think it might just have some boxes of the boys’ old toys and sporting equipment.”

Honestly, she hadn’t given much thought to the nook under the stairs. Her time in the bunkhouse was usually spent watching television or messing around with the boys, not surveying the property. “Now I remember. If it’s as big as you say, that would be perfect.”

“If Heath is staying,” Molly continued, “perhaps he can help you get the space ready. There should be some time before the holiday rush begins.”

“What am I helping out with?” Heath stumbled sleepily into the kitchen in jeans, a casual T-shirt and bare feet. His light brown hair was tousled. It was a far cry from his expensive tailored suits and perfectly styled hair, but it impacted Julianne even more powerfully. This morning, he looked more like the Heath she’d fallen in love with. The successful, powerful advertising executive was a stranger to her.

“We need you to help clean out the old storage room in the bunkhouse,” Molly answered.

He located a mug and made his own cup of coffee. “The one where you hid our Christmas presents?”

A light flush of irritation rose to Molly’s cheeks. Julianne had her mother’s same pale, flawless complexion. It was always quick to betray their feelings. They blushed bright red at the slightest provocation.

“You knew about that?” Molly asked.

Heath smiled and took a step farther from his mother under the guise of looking in the cabinet for something to eat. “We’ve always known, Mom. We just didn’t have the heart to tell you.”

“Well, hell,” Molly said, smacking her palm against the table. “Just as well we turn it into a studio, then.”

“Mom says that Dad’s surgery is tomorrow,” Julianne added, steering the conversation in another direction.

Heath pulled down a box of cereal and nodded. “Once we’re certain that he’s doing okay after surgery, I’ll probably head back to New York for a few days and get my things. I need to make arrangements with work and such, but I can probably be back up here in two or three days.”

Julianne nodded. She had plenty of things to take care of, too. “Same here. I’ve got to close on the house. Most of my things are already boxed up. I’ll put what I can in storage somewhere and bring the rest.”

“How are you going to get all your stuff into that little bitty sports car?” Heath asked.

“The Camaro is bigger than your Porsche,” she countered.

“Yeah, but I’m not hauling all your sculpting supplies and tools. What about your kiln?”

“I’m selling it locally,” Julianne said, although she didn’t know why he was so concerned. “I wanted a new one anyway, so I’ll get it delivered here.”

Heath frowned at her and crossed his arms over his chest in irritation. She tried not to focus on the way the tight fabric stretched across his hard muscles when he moved, but her eyes were instantly drawn to it. She followed the line of his collar to the lean cords of his neck and the rough stubble along his jaw. Her gaze stopped short when she noticed his amused smirk and arched eyebrow. He’d caught her. At that, she turned her attention back to her coffee and silently cursed herself.

“You need movers,” he persisted. “And a truck. I can get you one.”

Julianne scoffed at the suggestion. This was so typical of the way the last few years had gone. They avoided the big issues in their relationship and ended up quibbling about stupid things like moving trucks. She supposed to others, they seemed like bickering siblings, when in fact they were a grumpy, married couple. “I might need a truck, but I don’t need you to pay for it. I’m capable of handling all that myself.”

“Why won’t you—”

“We’ll discuss it later,” she interrupted. She wasn’t going to argue with him in front of Molly. She eyed her mother, who was casually sipping her coffee and sorting through her mail.

As if she could feel the tension in the room, Molly set down her stack of bills and stood up. “I’m going to go take a shower,” she announced. She took the last sip of her coffee and went upstairs, leaving the two of them alone.

Heath took Molly’s seat with a bowl of cereal in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. “It’s later.”

“You paying for my movers looks suspicious,” she complained. And it did. She made decent money. She didn’t need someone to handle it for her, especially Heath playing knight in shining armor.

“I wasn’t planning on paying for it. My agency handles the Movers Express account. The CEO owes me a favor. I just have to make a call. Any why is it suspicious? If Wade or Xander offered the same thing, you’d take them up on it without question.”

“Because I understand their motives,” Julianne said.

Heath’s brows went up in surprise. “And what are my motives, Jules? Do you think I’ll demand my rights as a husband in exchange for it? Sex for a moving truck? That’s certainly a new one on me. Shoot. I should have made that part of the deal up front.” His light hazel eyes raked over her, a devious smile curling his lips. He leaned across the table and spoke in a low, seductive tone. “I saw the way you were looking at me just now. It isn’t too late to renegotiate, Jules.”

The heat of his gaze instantly warmed the blood pumping through her veins. He very quickly made her aware of every inch of her body and how she responded to him. She wished he didn’t have that power over her, but the moment she’d looked at him as something more than a friend, it was like a switch had flipped and she hadn’t been able to reverse it. She also hadn’t been able to do anything about the attraction.

“Yes, it is,” she said, dropping her gaze to her coffee mug in the hopes she could suppress her stirring libido. “Way, way too late.”

“Well then, I guess I’m just trying to be nice.”

He made her reluctance to accept his offer seem childish. “Of course,” she said, but a part of her still wondered. There were too many undercurrents running between their every interaction. Whenever Heath was nice to her, whenever he did something for her, she couldn’t help but wonder why. He had every reason to be angry with her. She’d treated him terribly, practically throwing his love back in his face.

On their trip to Europe, they had lain on the grass at the base of the Eiffel Tower and watched the lights twinkling on the hour. There, he’d confessed to her that he had been in love with her since the fourth grade. Swept up in the moment, she told him that she loved him, too. Their relationship had begun in Paris. The marriage started and ended in Gibraltar just three days later. She’d pushed him away for his own good, but he’d never understand that. All he saw was that she turned her back on him and wouldn’t tell him why.

For a while he was angry with her. He didn’t talk to her for their entire freshman year of college. Then he avoided her, doing internships instead of coming home for the summer. Their interactions were short, but polite. It took years, but eventually, he went back to the funny, easygoing Heath she’d always loved.

The light banter and humor covered up their issues, however. They had both been apart for so long, most days it was easy to ignore what happened between them on the graduation trip. But now they were looking at months together. In close quarters.

Julianne had the feeling that the pressure cooker they’d kept sealed all this time was about to blow.

Three

Ken’s surgery went perfectly the next day. He spent twenty-four hours in ICU, and then he was moved to a regular room. Once he was off the ventilator and able to talk, Ken demanded everyone go home and stop hovering over him like it was his deathbed.

As instructed, Brody and his fiancée, Samantha, drove back to Boston. When Ken had his attack, Xander had been in Cornwall to move his ten-year-old son and new fiancée, Rose, to D.C. to live with him. He’d sent them along without him, so he gathered up the last of their things and met up with them back in D.C. Wade and Tori lived nearby and agreed to watch the farm while Heath and Julianne went home to make arrangements and make the transition to their new, temporary home.

Heath had offered to drive with Julianne and help with her move, but of course, she’d declined. He didn’t know if she just didn’t trust him, or if she felt too guilty to accept things from him after she’d broken up with him. He liked to think it was guilt.

The drive to Manhattan was quick, about two and a half hours. He called his business partner as he reached Chelsea and asked Nolan to meet him at his place to go over details while he packed. He found a metered spot on the street as he got off the phone. It was a great spot, considering how much he needed to load into the car. Some days he wasn’t so lucky and wished he’d gotten a place with parking.

He hadn’t been looking for a condo in this area when he first started shopping, but he’d fallen in love with the modern feel and large rooftop terrace that was bigger than his first New York apartment. Everything else, including parking, fell to the wayside. It was close enough to the office, near a subway stop and one of his favorite restaurants was a block up the street. He couldn’t pass it up.

Heath had cleaned all the perishables out of his refrigerator and had his largest suitcase packed when he heard the buzzer for the outer door of the building. He hit the release to let Nolan in and waited there for him to come out of the elevator. “Hey, man. Thanks for coming by.”

Nolan smiled and straightened his tie as he walked down the hallway. It was the middle of the week, so he was dressed more for work than Heath, who was in his jeans and NYU alumni sweatshirt.

“How’s your dad doing?” Nolan asked.

Heath urged him inside and shut the door. “He’s stable. I think he’s going to pull through fine, but as I mentioned earlier, I’m going to be gone a few months while he recovers.”

“Totally understandable. I think everything will go smoothly at the office. The only account I worry about with you gone is J’Adore.”

Heath went to the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of sparkling water. He opened them both and handed one over to Nolan. “The cosmetics account? Why do they worry you?”

“Well—” Nolan shrugged “—it has more to do with the owner’s preference for Monsieur Langston.”

“Oh,” Heath replied. Now he understood. The French cosmetics company was a great account. They’d helped J’Adore break into the high-end American cosmetics market in the last year. Thanks to his company’s marketing campaign, J’Adore was the trendiest new product line for the wealthy elite. The only issue was the owner, Madame Cecilia Badeau. She was in her late fifties, wealthy and eccentric, and she had Heath in her sights. For a while he was concerned they would lose the account if he didn’t make himself...available to her.

“Thank goodness you’re married, man,” Nolan said, flopping down onto the sleek, white leather couch.

There was that. It was the first time he was thankful to have that stupid piece of paper legally binding him to Julianne. In order not to offend Madame Badeau, Heath had to tell her he was married. It came as quite a shock to her, as well as Nolan, who was also in the room at the time. They were the only other people who knew he and Julianne were married. He explained that Julianne traveled for her work and was always out of town when he was asked about her. Madame Badeau had immediately backed off, but she still insisted the account be personally handled by Heath.

“I think she’ll understand that I’ve taken a leave of absence.”

Nolan looked at him, his dark brows pointedly drawn together with incredulity. “I sincerely hope so, but don’t be surprised if you get a call.”

“After a month on the farm, I might be happy to answer.” Heath hadn’t spent more than a few days back at the Garden of Eden Christmas Tree Farm since he’d graduated from college. Avoiding Julianne had meant avoiding his family, although he was beginning to think that was the wrong tactic. He was out of sight, out of mind with her. From now on, he was going to be up close and personal.

“Are you going to be running that huge place all by yourself?” Nolan asked.

“No,” Heath said, sliding onto the other end of the couch. “Julianne is going back for a while, too.”

Nolan sputtered, obviously trying not to choke on his sip of water. “Julianne? Your wife, Julianne?”

Heath sighed. “Technically, yes, but I assure you it means nothing. I mean, I told you we never even slept together, right?”

“I still don’t know what you could’ve done to ruin a marriage within hours of your vows.”

Heath had wondered that same thing a million times. One moment, he had achieved his life’s dream and married his glorious Julianne. The next, she was hysterically crying and screaming for him to stop touching her. The moment he let her go, she ran into the bathroom of their hotel room and didn’t come out for two hours.

“I don’t know. She never would tell me what changed. She was happy. The perfect, beautiful blushing bride. She responded to me, physically. Things were going fine until they weren’t. All she would ever say was that she was sorry. She thought she could be with me, but she just couldn’t do it.”

“Was she a virgin? My high-school girlfriend was a nervous wreck our first time.”

“That’s what I thought. I never asked her directly, that felt weird, but that was my assumption. I kept thinking she’d warm up to the idea. She didn’t.” When he’d first told his partner about his crazy marriage, Heath hadn’t elaborated and Nolan had been kind enough not to press him for details. Now, facing months with Julianne, he was glad he had someone to talk to about it.

Nolan scoffed. “What about when you got home?”

“I was trying not to push her. She asked not to tell anyone about the marriage right away and I agreed. I thought she needed time, and we had a few weeks before we both went to school. One morning, I came in from the fields and her car was gone. She’d left early to go to Chicago and didn’t tell me or say goodbye.”

“What did you do?”

“I followed her up there. She wouldn’t even let me into her room. I’d never seen such a hard, cold expression on her face before that day. She told me getting married was a mistake. She was so embarrassed, she couldn’t bear to tell anyone about it. Then she told me to go home and forget it ever happened.”

“Do you think there’s more to it than what she told you?”

“Some days, yes, some days, no. I do think she was ashamed to tell people that she married me. Especially our parents. She’s always been too concerned with what people think. Jules had to have Molly and Ken’s approval for everything. Maybe she didn’t think she would get it for our marriage.”

“Or?”

That was the big question. Something just didn’t add up. If she had been so concerned about their parents finding out what happened, she either wouldn’t have married him at all or she would have panicked when they returned home and had to face telling them. But she had panicked on their wedding night without any warning that his eighteen-year-old self could pick up on. They had kissed and indulged in some fondling in the days before the wedding and again that night. It wasn’t until all the clothes came off that the mood shifted.

Then there was fear in her eyes. Sudden terror. And he’d barely touched her, much less hurt her. He’d had eleven years to live that night over and over in his mind and still didn’t know what he did wrong.

“I have no idea. I just know that whatever the issue is, she doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Why are you two still married, then? You’re not still in love with her, are you, Heath?”

“I’m not,” Heath assured him. “That boyhood crush died a long time ago, but it’s more complicated than that.”

“Enlighten me.”

“At first, I thought she would change her mind. We had broken up, but I was certain she would realize she was overreacting about the sex and after being apart for a while she would miss me and decide she really did love me and want to be with me.” He sighed, remembering how many nights he’d lain in bed naively fantasizing about her revelation. “But she didn’t. She just pretended it never happened and expected me to do the same. She wouldn’t talk about it.”

“Then divorce her,” Nolan suggested. “Be done with it.”

Heath shook his head. “I know that I should, but there’s no way I’m letting her off the hook that easily. I definitely think it’s time to wrap the whole thing up between us, but she left me. I’m going to make her finish the job.”

Nolan didn’t look convinced. “That hasn’t worked so well for you so far.”

“I just think she needs a little incentive. Something to push her to make a move.”

“What have you got in mind?” Nolan asked, his eyes lighting up with his wicked imagination. He was the perfect business partner for Heath. They were both devious to a fault, but Heath had the creativity and Nolan had the business smarts.

He could still picture her flushed cheeks and stuttering speech when she was faced with his half-naked body. That really was the key. “I’m going to go back to the house and help Jules set up her new studio there. I’ll do everything I need to around the farm. But I’m not going to pretend like nothing ever happened between us. I’m not going to sit on my hands and ignore that we’re still attracted to one another.”

“You’re still into her? After everything that has happened? That’s kinda twisted, man.”

Heath shrugged. “I can’t help it. She’s even more beautiful than she was back then. I’ve always been attracted to her, and if she was honest with herself, she’d have to admit she’s still got a thing for me, too. I’m going to try to use it to my advantage. Sex was always our problem, so I intend to push the issue and make her so uncomfortable, she will be all too happy to file for divorce and put this behind her. By the time I come back to New York, I expect to be a free man.”

Nolan nodded slowly and put his bottle of water onto the coffee table. “And that’s what you want, right?”

Heath wasn’t sure what his business partner meant by that. Of course he wanted this to be over. And it would be. There was no way that Julianne would take him up on his sexual advances. She’d run, just like she always did, and he could finally move on. Just because he was still attracted to Julianne didn’t mean that anything would come of it.

“Absolutely.” Heath smiled wide, thinking of all the ways he could torture his bride over the next few weeks. When it was all said and done, he would get his divorce and they would finally be able to move on.

But he sure as hell wasn’t going to make it easy on her.

* * *

No one was around when Julianne arrived in her small moving truck. She wouldn’t admit it, but Heath had been right. She needed help moving. There was more than she could fit in the car, so she decided to skip the storage rental and just bring it all with her. By the time she had that realization, she was already in Sag Harbor staring down the piles of stuff she didn’t remember accumulating, so she ended up renting a truck one-way and towing her Camaro behind it the whole way.

She pulled the truck up behind the bunkhouse, where it would be out of the way until she could unload everything. Her clothes and personal things could go into her bedroom, but all the supplies for her studio would have to wait. She’d scoped out the storage room before she left and knew it would take time to clean it out. She’d considered doing it then, but Heath had insisted she wait until he was back from New York and could help her.

She opened the door to the storage room to give it a second look. The room was dim, with only the light coming in from one window, so she felt around until she found a light switch. A couple of fluorescent bulbs kicked on, highlighting the dusty shelves and cardboard boxes that filled the space. Molly was right—with a little elbow grease it would be the perfect place for her to work.

The hardwood floors continued into the storage room. There were several sturdy shelving units and open spaces for her to put her equipment. The brand-new, top-of-the-line kiln she ordered would fit nicely into the corner. She couldn’t wait to get settled in.

Julianne grabbed her large rolling suitcase and threw a duffel bag over her shoulder. She hauled them slowly up the stairs and paused at the landing between the two bedrooms. She wasn’t sure which one to use. She’d never slept in the bunkhouse before. Whenever she came home, she used her old room, but that was going to be unavailable for a few weeks at least until Dad was able to climb the stairs again. She reached for the doorknob on the left, pushing the door open with a loud creak.

It was a nice, big space. When she was younger the rooms had been equipped with bunk beds that would allow the Edens to take in up to eight foster children at a time. Wade, Brody, Xander and Heath had stayed at the Garden of Eden until they were grown, but there were a dozen other boys who came and went for short periods of time while their home situations straightened out.

She was relieved to see the old bunks had been replaced with two queen-sized beds. They had matching comforters and a nightstand between them. A large dresser flanked the opposite wall. She took a step in and noticed the closet door was ajar and a suitcase was lying open inside it. And a light was coming from under the bathroom door. Heath was back. She hadn’t noticed his car.

Before she could turn around, the bathroom door opened and Heath stepped out. He was fresh from the shower. His hair was damp and combed back, his face pink and smooth from a hot shave. The broad, muscular chest she caught a glimpse of a few days before was just as impressive now, with its etched muscles and dark hair, only this time his skin was slick. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, thank goodness, but that was the only thing between her and a fully naked Heath.

Once upon a time, the sight of her naked husband had launched her into a complete panic attack. The cloud of confused emotions and fear had doused any arousal she might have felt. Eleven years and a lot of therapy later, only the dull ache of need was left when she looked at him.

Heath wasn’t startled by her appearance. In fact, her appraising glance seemed to embolden him. He arched an eyebrow at her and then smiled the way he always seemed to when she was uncomfortable. “We’ve really got to stop meeting like this.”

A flush rushed to her cheeks from a mix of embarrassment and instant arousal. She knew Heath could see it, so that just made the deep red color even worse. “I’m sorry. I’ve done it again.” Julianne backed toward the door, averting her eyes to look at anything but his hard, wet body and mocking grin. “I parked the moving truck out back and didn’t realize you were here. I was trying to figure out which room I should use.”

“You’re welcome to use this one,” Heath said. He sat down on the edge of one of the beds and gave it a good test bounce. “That would prove interesting.”

“Uh, no,” she said, slipping back through the doorway. “The other room will be just fine.”

Her hands were shaking as she gripped the handle of her luggage and rolled it to the opposite bedroom. When she opened the door, she found it to be exactly the same as the other one, only better, because it didn’t have her cocky, naked husband in it.

She busied herself hanging up clothes in the closet and storing underthings in the dresser. Putting things away was a good distraction from the sexual thoughts and raging desire pumping through her veins.

Julianne was setting out the last of her toiletries in the bathroom when she turned and found Heath in her doorway, fully clothed.

“Do you need help bringing more things in?”

“Not tonight. Tomorrow, maybe we can work on clearing out the storage room and then I can unload the rest of my supplies there. There’s no sense piling up things in the living room. I don’t have to return the truck for a few days.”

“Okay, good,” he said, but he didn’t leave.

Julianne stood, waiting for him to speak or do something, but he just leaned against her door frame. His hazel gaze studied her, his eyes narrowing in thought. A smile curled his lips. She had no idea what he was actually thinking, but it was unnerving to be scrutinized so closely.

Finally, she returned to putting her things away and tried to pretend he wasn’t inspecting her every move. There was something about the way he watched her that made her very aware of her own body. It happened every time. He didn’t have to say a word, yet she would feel the prickle of awareness start up the back of her neck. Her heart would begin pounding harder in her chest. The sound of her breath moving rapidly in and out of her lungs would become deafening.

Then came the heat. What would start as a warmness in her cheeks would spread through her whole body. Beads of perspiration would start to form at the nape of her neck and the valley between her breasts. Deep in her belly, a churning heat would grow warmer and warmer.

All with just a look. She tried desperately to ignore him because she knew how quickly these symptoms would devolve to blatant wanting, especially if he touched her. Eleven years ago, she was too frightened to do anything about her feelings, but she’d come a long way. There was nothing holding her back now. Whether or not Heath still wanted her, he seemed happy to push the issue. How the hell would she make it through the next few months with him so close by? With no brothers or other family here to distract them?

“I’m surprised you’re staying in the bunkhouse,” Heath said at last.

“Why is that?” Julianne didn’t turn to look at him. Instead, she stuffed her empty duffel bag into her luggage and zipped it closed.

“I would’ve thought you’d want to stay as far away from me as possible. Then again,” he added, “this might be your chance to indulge your secret desires without anyone finding out. Maybe you’re finally ready to finish what we started.”

Julianne turned to look at him with her hands planted on her hips. Hopefully her indignant attitude would mask how close to the truth he actually was. “Indulge my secret desires? Really, Heath?”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his gray trousers and took a few slow, casual steps into the room. “Why else would you stay out here? I’m sure things in the big house are much nicer.”

“They are,” she replied matter-of-factly. “But Daddy will be coming home soon and there won’t be a room for me there. Besides, being out here makes me feel more independent. My studio will be downstairs, so it’s convenient and I’ll be less likely to disturb Mom and Dad.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “You can stay up late and make all the noise you want. You could scream the walls down if you felt inclined.”

Julianne clenched her hands into fists at her sides. “Stop making everything I say into a sexual innuendo. Yes, I will be staying out here with you, but that’s only because it’s the only place to go. If there were an alternative, I’d gladly take it.”

Heath chuckled, but she could tell by the look on his face that he didn’t believe a word she said. “You’re an awfully arrogant bastard,” she noted. “I do not want to sleep with you, Heath.”

“You say that,” he said, moving a few feet closer. “But I know you better than you’d like to think, Jules. I recognize that look in your eye. The color rushing to your cheeks. The rapid rise and fall of your breasts as you breathe harder. You’re trying to convince yourself that you don’t want me, but we both know that you hate leaving things unfinished. And you and I are most certainly unfinished.”

He was right. Julianne was normally focused on every detail, be it in art or life. She was an overachiever. The only thing she’d found she couldn’t manage was being a wife. Just another reason to keep their past relationship under the covers.

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