An Engagement in Seattle: Groom Wanted

He muttered something blistering in Russian, and Julia was grateful she couldn’t understand him.

“You deny your vows. You abuse my pride by involving your brother. You ask for patience and then stab me in the back.”

“I…explained on our wedding day that I need time. I let you know you were being cheated in this marriage. You can’t say I didn’t warn you.” Contacting Jerry had been wrong, she saw now. But she was frightened and growing more so each day. No longer could she ignore the powerful attraction she felt for Alek. No longer could she ignore his touch. He was chipping away at the barrier she’d erected to protect herself from feelings. From love. He was working his way into her life and her heart. She had to do something.

“You are my wife,” Alek shouted.

Julia closed her eyes at the anger in his voice.

“I’m not a very good one,” she whispered.

“We are married, Julia. When will you accept that?” He turned away from her and stalked to the door.

“I…don’t know if I can.”

At her words, he spun around.

They stood no more than a few feet apart, yet an ocean might have lain between them. He was furious with her and she with him.

“I may never be your wife in the way you want.” Julia didn’t know what drove her to say that.

And yet, at the same moment, she realized she wanted him. Needed him. And that frightened her half to death.

“You’re afraid, aren’t you?” he asked as if he could read her thoughts. “Afraid you aren’t woman enough to satisfy me. That’s what’s behind all this, isn’t it? That, and the fact that you’re afraid to trust another man. But I’m not like the one who hurt you, Julia, whoever he was. I’m not like him at all. I respect you—and I want you. Which, if you’re honest, is how you feel about me, too.”

Stricken, Julia closed her eyes. It felt as if he’d blinded her with the truth, identified her fears, hurled them at her to explain or reject.

“Julia?”

She sobbed once, the sound nearly hysterical as she backed away from him.

“I didn’t mean…” he began.

She stopped him by holding out her arm.

He cursed under his breath, and reaching for her, drew her into his arms. She didn’t resist. Without pause he lowered his head and covered her mouth, sealing their lips together in a wild kiss. The craziness increased with each impatient twist of their heads, growing in frenzied desperation.

Her breasts tingled and her body grew hot as his powerful hands held her against him. It was where she wanted to be.…

His hands were busy with the zipper at the back of her straight, no-nonsense business skirt. It hissed as he lowered it. Julia made a token protest, which he cut off with a bone-melting kiss.

“I’m through fighting you,” he whispered. “Will you stop fighting me?”

He gently brought his mouth back to hers. They were so close Julia felt as if they were drawing in the same breath, as if they required only one heart to beat between them.

Sobbing, she slid her arms around his neck and buried her face, taking deep, uneven breaths. Not understanding her own desperate need, she clung to him as a low cry emerged from her lips. The grief she felt was overwhelming. She was lamenting the wasted years, when she’d closed herself off from life. Ever since her father’s death and Roger’s betrayal, she’d lived in limbo, rejecting love and laughter. Rejecting and punishing herself.

“Julia,” Alek whispered, stroking her hair, “what is it?”

She shook her head, unable to answer.

“Say it,” he told her softly, sitting in her chair and taking her with him so she was nestled in his lap. “Tell me you need me. Tell me you want me, too.”

She sobbed and with tears streaming down her face, she nodded.

“That’s not good enough. I want the words.”

“I…need you. Oh, Alek, I’m so scared.”

He held her, kissed her gently, reassured her while she rested her head on his shoulder and cried until her tears were spent.

“I don’t know why you put up with me,” she finally gasped.

“You don’t?” he asked, chuckling softly. “I have the feeling you’ll figure it out soon enough, my love.”

Her intercom hummed and Virginia’s voice echoed through the silence. “Your nine-thirty appointment is here.”

Her eyes regretfully met Alek’s.

“Send whoever it is away,” Alek urged.

“I…I can’t do that.”

“I know,” he said, and kissed the tip of her nose. He released her slowly.

Just when Julia was convinced her day couldn’t possibly get any more complicated, she received a call from Virginia Mason Hospital. Her grandmother had slipped into a coma.

Jerry was away, so she left a message for him and for Alek, canceled her appointments for the rest of the day and drove directly to the hospital.

Julia realized the instant she walked into her grandmother’s room that Ruth’s hold on life was tenuous, a slender thread. Her heart was failing, and Julia felt as though her own heart was in jeopardy, too.

In the past few years she’d faced a handful of crises, starting with the fire that had nearly destroyed the business and their family. Her father’s death had followed. Immediately afterward she’d realized Roger had used her, had sold out her family. And her.

Ruth, her beloved Ruth, was dying, and Julia was powerless to stop it. She was terrified. For the past months she’d watched helplessly as her grandmother’s health deteriorated.

Sitting at Ruth’s bedside now, Julia could almost hear the older woman’s calming voice. “My death is inevitable—” the unspoken words rang in her head “—but not unwelcome.”

Silently Julia pleaded with her grandmother to live just a little longer, to give her time to adjust, to grant her a few days to gather her courage. Even as she spoke, Julia recognized how selfish she was being, thinking of herself, of her own pain. But she couldn’t make herself stop praying that God would spare her grandmother.

“You have walked through your pain,” the silent voice continued. “The journey has made you wiser and far stronger than you know.”

Julia wanted to argue. She didn’t feel strong. Not when it seemed Ruth was about to be taken from her. She felt pushed to the limits, looking both ways—toward despair in one direction and hope in the other, toward doubt and faith.

An hour passed as Julia struggled with her grief, refusing to let it overwhelm her. Fear controlled her, the knowledge that if she gave in to her grief, she might never regain her sanity.

“Please,” she pleaded aloud, praying Ruth heard her. It was the selfish prayer of a frightened child.

Jerry arrived, pale and shaken. “What happened?”