“I…need time.”
He continued to hold her gaze. “All right.”
Tears filled her eyes and she bit her lip. “You’re getting the short end of the stick with me, Alek.”
“Short end of the stick?”
She smiled softly. “It means you’re getting less than you deserve.”
“Let me be the judge of that. As I said, in time you’ll come to me of your own accord. In time you’ll want me as much as I want you.”
“There are many things you don’t know about me,” she said, her words so low he had to strain to hear.
“Tell me.”
She shook her head. “Just remember, I warned you.”
He released her, maintaining their contact as long as possible. His hands slid down the full length of her arms and, catching her fingers, he held on to the tips with his own.
“Good night, my wife,” he whispered, then turned away. “I shall be lonely without you.”
Julia left the room quickly, knowing that if she stayed a moment longer, she’d end up in the bed next to Alek.…
Julia found it surprisingly easy to avoid Alek. Their schedules were different and they drove to work in separate cars. She left for the office early, before he awoke. In the afternoons she visited her grandmother, then ate a quiet meal by herself. She was usually preparing for bed about the time Alek returned from the lab.
He was working long, hard hours, getting ready to put his latest research into production. From the weekly reports he sent her, she knew that they were speeding ahead; the marketing and distribution plans for Phoenix Paints were under way. The advertising blitz had yet to be decided, but that was coming. Everything looked promising.
But then, it had looked promising three years ago, too. Yet within the course of a single week she’d lost her father, been betrayed by the man she loved and nearly destroyed a business that had been in the family for four generations.
Julia had learned harsh but valuable lessons about promises. Probably the most painful lessons of her life. She’d come away convinced she could trust only a cherished few. Equally important, she’d learned never, ever to cash in on mere potential. The promise of a check in the mail wasn’t money in the bank.
Dear heavens, she mused as she left the office, she was becoming very philosophical. Perhaps that was what marriage did to a woman.
Marriage.
Even the word sounded strange to her. She was married for better or worse. Married. After her tirade on their wedding night, when she’d pleaded, threatened and tried to reason with Alek, she’d decided he was right. There was no backing out now. They were married, for better or worse.
Her decision was prompted by a certain amount of pride. Jerry had made sure the news of their wedding was carried by the local newspapers. The business community and their acquaintances would know about her marriage. It would be acutely embarrassing to seek an annulment so soon after the ceremony.
Mentally she added vanity to her growing list of character defects.
“Julia,” Ruth said weakly when she entered the hospital room, “what are you doing here?”
Julia grinned as she leaned forward to kiss her grandmother’s pale cheek. “It’s good to see you, too.”
“Alek will never forgive me.”
“Alek is hard at work,” she assured Ruth.
“But you’re newlyweds.”
Julia’s gaze skirted past her grandmother’s. “He’s been so busy lately. I’d rather spend time with you than go home to an empty apartment.”
“I worry about you,” Ruth said, her voice growing weaker.
“Worry?” Julia repeated. “There’s no need. Our schedules are hectic just now. Coming here is the best thing for me.… That way, when Alek gets home, I’m calm and relaxed.”
“Good. He’s such a dear boy. You married well.… I so want you to be happy—it’s what you deserve. Your season of pain is past now that you have Alek.”
Julia wanted to avoid the subject of her husband. “Would you like me to read to you?”
“Please. From the book of Psalms, if you would?”
“Of course.” Julia reached for the well-worn Bible and sat in the chair next to her grandmother’s bed and began. She read long past the moment Ruth had fallen asleep. Long past the dinner hour. Long past the time she should leave for home.
The night was hot and muggy, the air heavy. Her air-conditioning system must not be working properly because it felt like the hottest night of the year. Even her skimpy, baby-doll pajamas seemed clammy and constricting.
Sleep seemed just beyond her grasp no matter how hard she tried to capture it. The night was still and dark, and she flopped from her side to her back, then onto her side once more, attempting to find the touch of a cool breeze. But there was none.
Another hour passed and she gave up the effort. Getting out of bed, she moved into the living room, standing in front of the window. A few scattered lights flickered from Puget Sound. The last ferry crossing before dawn, she guessed, on its way to Winslow on Bainbridge Island.
The lights from Alki Point gleamed in the distance.
Julia had no idea how long she stood there, looking into the still, dark night. Raising her arms high above her head, she stretched, standing on her toes. The thin fabric of her pajama top rustled. Her hair felt damp and heavy and she lifted the long tresses from the back of her neck. She shook her head, sending a spray of hair in a circle around her face.
She heard the briefest of noises behind her and whirled around to see a shadow unfold from the chair. Alek stood. He wore only the bottom half of his pajamas and his hard chest glistened in the muted light.
“Alek,” she said breathlessly.
“I couldn’t sleep, either,” he told her.
“How…long have you been here?” she demanded.
“I wasn’t spying on you, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”
“I…you startled me, that’s all.”
“Come sit with me.”
She shook her head again and watched as his jaw tightened at her refusal.
“We’re married,” he reminded her. “You can’t ignore me the rest of your life. We made a bargain, which has yet to be fulfilled.”
Why he chose to bring up the subject of their marriage now, Julia didn’t know. They’d lived peacefully together for nearly two weeks, barely seeing each other, rarely talking. She’d almost convinced herself they could continue like this forever.
“I don’t want to talk about our marriage.”
She sensed that his irritation turned to amusement. “No, I don’t imagine you do,” he said.