Summer Brides: Bride Wanted / Hasty Wedding. Debbie Macomber

relationship with Roger Stanhope.

      Whenever his friend mentioned the other man’s name, Jerry’s mouth tightened and anger flashed in his eyes. Because he was often so involved with his own work, Alek couldn’t interact with other staff members as much as he would’ve liked. Recently he’d made a point of doing so.

      Over lunch that afternoon, he’d casually dropped Roger Stanhope’s name and was astounded by the abrupt silence that fell over the small gathering.

      “If you want to know about Roger, just ask Julia,” someone suggested.

      It sounded like an accusation, which puzzled Alek. From the little he was able to surmise, Roger had been blamed for the fire, although presumably nothing was proven or he’d be in jail. Questions abounded. The answers, like so much else in his marriage, would come with time.

      Julia was silent on the ride from the hospital to their home. Alek led her into the condo and toward the guest bedroom, where she chose to sleep.

      She sat on the edge of the bed like a lifeless doll.

      “Would you like some help undressing?” he asked her.

      She shook her head. “No, thanks.”

      He left her, but not because he wanted to.

      Venturing into the kitchen, he made a pot of tea. Julia needed something hot and sweet. When the tea had finished steeping, he returned to her room and knocked lightly on the door.

      “Come in.”

      She’d changed clothes and was dressed in a sexless pair of cotton pajamas.

      “I made tea.” He carried in a cup and saucer, and set them on the nightstand by her bed.

      She stared at the cup as if she’d never seen anything like it before.

      “I don’t know if you remember, but I told you yesterday that my sister was arriving this afternoon. I was at the airport meeting Anna and then drove her to my old apartment. That’s why I couldn’t come to the hospital until late. Anna will be here tomorrow morning.”

      “Why are you so good to me? I don’t deserve it…not after the way I’ve treated you. Not after the things I’ve said.”

      He had no answer for her because the truth would only enhance her distress. He loved her as any husband loved his wife. In time she’d recognize and accept it. But she wasn’t ready yet.

      Alek peeled back the covers of her bed and fluffed up the pillow. She stood behind him, her breathing labored, as if she was struggling not to weep.

      “Alek.” His name was a mere whisper. “Would you mind…would you sleep with me tonight? Just this once?”

      The desire that invaded his body came as a greater shock than her request. From the first night of their marriage, Alek had been waiting for her to voluntarily invite him to her bed. He hadn’t imagined it would happen this way, when she was emotionally distraught.

      In the same instant, Alek recognized that she wasn’t offering him her body. She was seeking his comfort. It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was a small step in the right direction and he’d take whatever Julia was willing to give him.

      He reached for her hand, kissed her fingers and then moved to the doorway where he switched off the light. Darkness filled the room. He heard the mattress squeak as she slipped beneath the sheets. Then he walked back to the bed, stripped off his clothes and joined her.

      It was the sweetest torture he’d ever known to have Julia move into his waiting arms. She cuddled her soft, feminine body against his, molding herself against him, her satiny smooth leg brushing his. She released one long sigh as her head nestled on his chest and was instantly asleep.

      Asleep.

      Alek grinned mockingly to himself and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He listened to the even sound of her breathing and after a few moments, kissed the crown of her head.

      So this was to be his lot. Comforter. Not lover or husband, but consoler. His body throbbed with wanting her. Holding her so close, yet unable to really touch her, was the purest form of torment Alek had ever endured.

      He didn’t sleep and was grateful he hadn’t, because Julia stirred suddenly, apparently trapped in a nightmare. She thrashed around until he managed to hold her down.

      “No,” she sobbed and twisted away from him. Her nails dug into his flesh.

      “Julia,” he whispered, “wake up. It’s just a dream.”

      She raised her head from the pillow, looked into his eyes and frowned. Rubbing a hand over her face, she looked again as though she expected him to have disappeared.

      “It’s all right,” he whispered soothingly. “I’m here.”

      He could feel her heart racing. Her eyes met his in the darkness and he saw her confusion. It was on the tip of his tongue to remind her she’d invited him into her bed. But he didn’t. Instead he plowed his fingers into the thickness of her hair and brought her mouth to his.

      She welcomed his kiss without hesitation, without restraint, moaning. She flattened her palms against his chest, then sighed when they’d finished kissing. A sigh that spoke of satisfaction. And confusion.

      His body was on fire, but he didn’t press her for more. She snuggled against him and draped her arm around him, nestling back into their original position. Her hand was restless as it leisurely roamed across his chest.