An Engagement in Seattle Page 18


“I’m sure it wasn’t a mistake. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to see to my guests.”

Roger surprised her by taking her arm and stopping her. Her gaze flew back to him and she wondered how she could ever have thought herself in love with him.

He was handsome, but his good looks were so transparent that she was shocked she hadn’t seen through his guise sooner. She’d learned a good deal about character in the past few years, and that thought, at least, comforted her.

“I suggest you let go of my wife’s arm,” Alek said. He was angry. Julia could tell by how heavy his accent had become.

Roger looked puzzled, as if he didn’t understand.

“And I suggest you do as he says,” Julia said.

Roger released her arm. He held up both hands for Alek’s inspection. “I heard you were married,” he said, continuing to follow her as she filled yet another coffee cup. Alek came after Roger and the three of them paraded across the room.

“Why you chose to marry a Russian is beyond me. I figured you were smarter than to involve yourself with some foreigner.”

Julia didn’t dignify that comment with a reply. Instead she introduced the two men. “Roger Stanhope, meet Aleksandr Berinski.”

“Ah,” Roger said sarcastically, “and I thought he was your bodyguard.”

“I am,” Alek said in a less heavy accent. “Touch my wife again and you’ll be sorry. We foreigners have effective ways of making our point.”

“Alek,” Julia admonished with a grin.

Roger seemed to take the threat as some kind of joke. “I’m truly sorry to hear about your grandmother,” he went on.

“Thank you.” The coffeepot was empty and Julia returned to the kitchen with both Roger and Alek in tow. If it hadn’t been such a sad occasion, Julia would’ve found the antics of the two men funny.

“I’d like to take you to lunch sometime,” Roger said, leaning against the kitchen counter as Julia prepared another pot of coffee. “We could talk over old times.”

“Great. I’d love it. Do you mind if I bring the arson investigator?”

“Julia won’t be having lunch with you,” Alek said before Roger could react.

“I’m sorry, Roger, I really am, but my husband is the jealous sort. You’ve started off on the wrong foot with him as it is. Don’t press your luck.”

“Julia, sweetheart,” Roger said meaningfully, “it’s time for us to clear the air.”

“The air will be much clearer once you leave,” Alek muttered. “Perhaps you would allow me to show you the door?” He advanced one menacing step, then another.

“Ah…” Roger backed up, hands raised. “All right, all right. I’ll go.”

“I thought you’d see matters my way,” Alek said.

Roger cast an ugly look in his direction. He straightened the cuffs of his starched white shirt and wore an injured air as he left the house through the back door.

Julia’s gaze followed Roger. “That really wasn’t necessary, you know.”

“Ah, but it gave me pleasure to send him.”

Her smiling eyes met his. “Me, too.”

“Tell me about this man. You loved him?”

She felt her amusement drain away. She was surprised no one had ever told Alek about her fateful relationship with Roger. But she’d dealt with enough grief for one day and didn’t feel like delving into more.

“Another time?” she asked.

Alek seemed to require a moment to think over his response. “Soon,” he told her. “A husband needs to know these things.”

She agreed with an unenthusiastic nod.

Alek was leaving the kitchen when she stopped him. “I’ll tell you about Roger if you tell me about the women in your life.”

This, too, seemed to give him pause. “There’s never been anyone but you,” he said, then grinned boyishly.

The gathering broke up an hour or so later. Julia insisted on staying to help Charles with the cleanup. Jerry and Alek were helpful, too, stacking folding chairs, straightening the living room and carrying dirty dishes into the kitchen.

By the time Alek unlocked the door to their home, Julia felt drained.

“Sit down,” Alek said, “and I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

“That sounds heavenly.” She kicked off her shoes and stretched out her tired legs, resting her feet on the ottoman. Alek joined her a few minutes later, bringing a china cup and saucer.

He sat across from her.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing her,” Julia whispered, after her first sip of tea. Now that she wasn’t so busy, the pain of losing Ruth returned full force. “She’s left such a large void in my life.”

“Give yourself time,” Alek said gently.

Julia looked over at her husband and her heart swelled with some emotion she couldn’t quite identify. Possibly love. That frightened her half to death, but she sensed that with Alek there was the chance of feeling safe and secure again.

He’d been so good to her through the difficult weeks of Ruth’s illness and death, even when she’d given him ample reason to be angry with her.

“When was the last time you ate?” he asked unexpectedly.

Julia shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

“You didn’t have anything this afternoon.”

“I didn’t?” There’d been so much food, it seemed impossible that she hadn’t eaten something.

“No,” Alek informed her. “I was watching. You saw to everyone but yourself. I’ll make you dinner.”

“Alek, please,” she said, trailing him into the kitchen. “That isn’t necessary.”

“It’ll be my pleasure.” Lifting her by the waist, he sat her effortlessly on the stool next to the kitchen counter. “You can stay and observe,” he said. “You might even learn something.”

Relaxed now, Julia smiled.

Alek looked at her for a moment. “You don’t do that often enough,” he said, leaning toward her and dropping a kiss on her lips.

“Do what?” she asked in surprise.

“Smile.”

“There hasn’t been much reason to.”

“That’s about to change, my love.”

She leaned her chin on her hands. The sadness she’d carried with her all these weeks seemed to slide off her back. “You know, I think you’re right.”

Alek, who was beating eggs, looked over at her and grinned. “Anna said something to me the other morning. As her older brother I’m guilty of not listening to my sister as often as I should. This time, I did—and I agree with her.”

“I like Anna very much.”

“She feels the same way about you. She told me you were wise not to let me make love to you.”

Julia lowered her gaze, uncomfortable with the topic.

“When we married I wasn’t in love with you,” Alek confessed. “You weren’t in love with me. This is true?”

Given no option but the truth, Julia nodded.

“My heart tells me differently now.” He put the bowl down and moved to her side. With one finger, he raised her chin so her eyes were level with his own. “I love you, Julia, very much.”

She bit her trembling lower lip. “Oh, Alek…” Tears blurred her vision until his face swam before her.

“This makes you sad?”

“This terrifies me. I want to love you…I think I already do, but I don’t trust myself when it comes to falling in love.”

Alek frowned. “Because of this man you saw today?”

“Roger? Yes, because of Roger.”

“I am not like him. You know that.”

“I do.” Logically, intellectually, she understood, but emotionally—that was harder. That was a risk.…

Alek slipped his arms around her and Julia was struck not for the first time by the incredible beauty she saw in him. Not merely the physical kind. Oh, he was handsome, but that wasn’t what captivated her. She saw the man who’d held and comforted her when her grandmother died. The man who’d sung her to sleep. The man who’d refused to take advantage of her even when she’d asked him to do so.

They stared at each other, and Julia knew the exact moment Alek decided to make love to her. It was the same moment she realized she wanted him to—wanted it more than anything.

His mouth sought hers in a hungry kiss. “I love you,” he whispered against her lips.

“I love you, too,” she echoed, so lost in his kiss that she couldn’t speak anything but the truth. She’d tried to fool herself into believing it wasn’t possible to trust a man again. Alek was different; he had to be. If she couldn’t trust him, there was no hope for her.

He took her by the waist as he lifted her from the stool. Her feet dangling several inches off the floor, he carried her out of the kitchen and into the bedroom, kissing her, nibbling at her lips.

Julia tipped her head back in an effort to gather her scattered wits. Her breath came in short bursts, her lungs empty of air. Feeling seemed more important than breathing. Alek’s touch, which was most important of all, brought back to life the desire that had lain dormant in her for years.

He lay with her on the king-size bed, bringing his mouth to hers, revealing sensual mysteries with his lips and tongue. He was sprawled across her, pinning her to the bed.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “You make me crazy.”

“Love me,” she told him, her arms around his neck. Just as she’d known she would, Julia felt safe with Alek. And she felt sure, of him and of herself.

“I do love you, always.” He lowered his mouth to hers again. His kiss was sweet as his hands fiddled with the zipper at the back of her dress. Growing impatient, he rolled her onto her side, turning with her in order to ease it open. He removed the dress, along with her bra and panties.

Then his own clothes came off.…

Afterward, neither spoke. Alek kissed her repeatedly and Julia kissed him back, in relief and jubilation. Her season of pain had passed just as her grandmother had claimed it would. She’d found her joy in Alek.

They slept, their arms around each other, their bodies cuddling spoon-fashion. Alek tucked his leg over hers and pressed close to her back.

Julia woke first, hungry and loving. She turned over so that her head was nestled beneath Alek’s chin.

“Hmm.”

“You awake?”

“I am now,” he muttered drowsily.

“I’m hungry. Do you want to order out for dinner?”

Alek grinned. “I was going to cook for us, remember?”

Julia scooted closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers delving into his thick hair. “I think you should conserve your strength for later,” she advised, bringing his mouth down to hers.

Gentle flames flickered over the gas logs in Julia’s fireplace while they lounged on the floor, the remains of a boxed pizza resting nearby on the plush, light gray carpeting. Alek had found a bottle of wine and poured them each a glass.

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