“Julia and I should be the ones thanking you.”
The two men exchanged handshakes. Alek closed the door with relief and leaned against the frame. He slowly expelled his breath.
“Julia.” He whispered her name as he returned to the living room. She hadn’t moved. “We did it.”
She nodded as though she was in a trance.
“You were fantastic.”
Her eyes went to him and she blinked. “Me?”
“You were straightforward and honest. At first I was worried. I thought you were giving him far more information than necessary. Then I realized that was what convinced him. You acted as though you had nothing to hide. As if our staying married meant all the world to you. It wasn’t anything I said or did, it was you.”
“Me?” she repeated again, sounding close to tears.
Alek knelt down in front of her and took her hands. “Are you all right?”
Sniffling, she shook her head. The ordeal had been a strain, but he was surprised by her response. Julia wasn’t the type of woman to buckle easily. Nor did she weep without provocation. Something was definitely going on.
“What’s wrong?” he asked tenderly, resisting the urge to take her in his arms.
Tears filled her eyes and she made an effort to blink them away. “I think I’ll go lie down for a while. I’m sure I’ll be fine in a few minutes.”
Alek didn’t want her to leave. He was hoping they could pick up where they’d left off before they were interrupted by O’Dell’s arrival. The craving she’d created in him had yet to be satisfied. He wanted her to share his bed. She was his wife. They belonged together.
Alek had learned enough about Julia to know that she’d come to him in her own time, when she was ready and not before. He prayed he had the patience to wait her out.
As she lay in her bed, pretending to nap, Julia realized it wasn’t until the Immigration official had stood to leave that she’d recognized how sincere she was in what she’d told him. She’d answered the questions as candidly as possible, becoming more fervent the longer she spoke. It had suddenly struck her that Alek was as important to her personally as he was to the company. Perhaps more so. That came as an unexpected shock.
He’d been patient and loving and kind. His kisses stirred her soul. That sounded fanciful, overdramatic, but she was at a loss to explain it otherwise.
Heaven help her, she was falling in love with him. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. She didn’t want to love him, didn’t want to care about him. After Phoenix Paints was launched and he’d established his mother and sister in the country, she wanted Alek out of her life. That was what she’d planned. Involving her heart would be both foolish and dangerous. She’d already learned her lesson when it came to trusting a man. Roger had taught her well.
“Julia?” His voice was a whisper. She kept her eyes closed, not wanting Alek to know she was awake. Afraid he might want to resume what they’d started…
Her face filled with color at the memory of their kisses. She couldn’t believe the liberties Alek had taken with her earlier that afternoon. Worse, liberties she’d encouraged and enjoyed. She would be forever grateful that Mr. O’Dell had arrived when he had.
Julia had eventually drifted off. Because of her nap, she was unable to sleep that evening. Hoping to sidestep any questions from Alek, she’d gone to the hospital to visit Ruth later in the afternoon.
The condo was empty when she returned and Julia guessed Alek had gone to the lab to work. Feeling somewhat guilty, she microwaved her dinner, hoping he’d pick up something for himself while he was out.
He wasn’t back by the time she showered and readied for bed. She should’ve been grateful; instead she found herself waiting for him. It was nearly eleven when she heard the front door open. Light from the kitchen spilled into the hallway outside her bedroom as he rummaged around, apparently looking for dinner.
A second bout of guilt didn’t improve her disposition. Knowing next to nothing about cooking should prove beyond a doubt what a terrible wife she was. Another, more domesticated woman would have been knitting by the fireplace, awaiting his return with a delectable meal warming in the oven. Forget that it was summer; this imaginary dutiful wife would have a cozy fire roaring anyway.
Then, when he’d eaten, she’d remove her housecoat and stand before him dressed only in a sheer nightie.
But Alek hadn’t married the ideal wife; instead he was stuck with her.
“Julia?”
She was so surprised by the sound of her name that she lifted her head from the pillow.
“I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No…I hadn’t gone to sleep yet.” She sat up in bed and tugged the sheets protectively around her.
His shadow loomed against the opposite wall like…like some kind of fairy-tale monster. But try as she might, Julia couldn’t make him into one.
“How’s your grandmother?” he asked.
She shrugged hopelessly. It became more apparent with every visit that Ruth wouldn’t last much longer. A part of Julia clung to her grandmother and another part struggled to release Ruth from this life and the pain that accompanied it.
“You were at the lab?”
Alek nodded.
“Is it really necessary for you to work so many hours?”
Alek crossed his arms and leaned against the door-jamb. “Work helps me deal with my frustration.”
He didn’t need to clarify his answer. Julia knew he was referring to the sexual disappointment of their marriage.
When she didn’t respond, he sighed and added, “I know why everything went so smoothly with the Immigration official. You, my dear wife, are in love with me.”
The audacity of the comment was shocking. “I’m what?”
“In love with me,” he repeated.
“You’re badly in need of some reality therapy,” Julia said, making her words as scathing as she could. “That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said.”
“Wait, I promise you it’ll get better. Much better.”
“Much worse, you mean,” she said with an exaggerated yawn. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get some sleep.”
“Later. We need to talk.”
“Alek, please, it’s nearly midnight.”
“You’ve already admitted you hadn’t been to sleep.”
“Exactly,” she said. “And I need my rest.”
“So do I.”
“Then leave it until morning,” she suggested next.
“You’re my wife. How long will it take before you live up to your end of our bargain?”
“I…already explained I need time…to adjust to everything. Why are you doing this?” she cried, furious with him for dragging out a subject she considered closed. “I refuse to be pressured into making love just because you’ve got an overactive libido.”
“Pressured,” he echoed, and a deep frown formed. He rubbed his hand over his face, sighing audibly. “I’ve been waiting for you since our wedding night. You agreed that we’d be married in every sense of the word.”
“It’s only been a few weeks,” she protested.
“Ah, but you love me. You proved it this afternoon. There’s no need to wait any longer, Julia. I need you, and you need me.” With a knowing smile, he turned and walked away.
The comment irritated her so much she couldn’t bear to let it go unanswered. Grabbing her pillow with both hands, she threw it after him. It hit the doorframe with a soft thud that was barely discernible. She knew Alek heard it, however, because he started laughing.
The following morning, as was her habit, Julia rose early and stood barefoot in the kitchen while she waited for the first cup of coffee to filter into the glass pot. The aroma pervaded the kitchen.
“Morning.” Alek spoke groggily from behind her.
Julia’s eyes flew open. Normally Alek didn’t get up until after she’d left for work. “Morning,” she greeted him with little enthusiasm.
“Did you sleep well?”
No. “Fine. How about you?” Her attention remained focused on the coffeepot. She didn’t dare turn around to confront her rumpled, groggy husband. Knowing he was only a few feet behind her activated her imagination. His hair was probably unkempt and his eyes drowsy, the way hers were. He’d look sexy and appealing.
“Julia,” he whispered, moving forward. He slipped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck. “We can’t go on like this. We’re married. When are you going to recognize that?”
She braced her hands against his, which were joined at her stomach. His lips located the pulse pounding at the side of her neck and he kissed her. Small, soft kisses…
Julia’s breath caught in her throat. “Alek, please, don’t.”
“Stop?” He raised his head as though she couldn’t have meant it.
“Yes.”
“I couldn’t sleep for want of you,” he whispered.
Her throat felt as dry as a desert. Speaking was impossible.
“All I could think about was how good you tasted and how much I wanted to hold you and kiss you again,” he went on.
The coffee had finished brewing, but Julia couldn’t make herself move.
“I know you want me, too. Why do you torture us like this?”
“I…have to get to work.” Each syllable was a triumph.
“Let me make love to you,” Alek urged, his mouth close to her ear.
“No. We can’t. I…I’ll be late for work.” She didn’t wait for him to argue with her, but rushed toward her bedroom. Toward sanity.
By the time Julia reached her office, she was in a terrible mood. She blamed Alek for this. As much as she wished it, she wasn’t made of stone. She was flesh and blood. A woman. When he kissed her and touched her she experienced a certain sexual yearning.
It was inevitable. A mere physiological reaction. It meant nothing. He insisted she was in love with him, but Julia knew that was just talk. Sweet talk, with a single purpose. To seduce her.
Julia had been seduced before, by an artful master. In comparison, Alek was so much more honest and, therefore, easier to defend herself against. She refused to give in to his pressure, subtle or otherwise. As for misleading him, she had, but only to a limited degree.
Furious now, she marched into her office, reached for her phone and dialed Jerry’s extension. “Can you come up?”
“Yes. Is everything okay?”
“No.”
Jerry paused. “I thought things went hunky-dory with the inspector.”
“They did, as far as I know. This has to do with Alek.”
“I’ll be right up,” her brother said.
She was pacing her office with precise steps when he arrived. Julia stopped, angry with herself, feeling close to tears and not understanding why.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his concern evident in his eyes.
“I…there’s a problem.”
“With what?”
“Whom,” she corrected. “Aleksandr Berinski.”
