by Ann Collins
“Have you changed your mind?” He held his breath.
She plopped herself into the upholstered chair. “No.”
He breathed again, more relieved than he expected. He truly wanted this marriage. In this storybook castle of turrets and towers, happily-ever-after seemed possible. Alex remembered the strange sense of belonging he’d felt upon his first sight of the hotel, and then again when Julia saw his scar and didn’t flinch or turn away. Perhaps they had been fated to meet at the very moment when she needed him.
“But, Alex,” she continued, “we are virtual strangers. With Tom, at least I knew what I was getting.”
“Which is exactly why you didn’t deny my claim to your hand.”
She slumped deeper in the chair. “You’re very sure of yourself.”
“Am I wrong?”
“No.”
“Julia, if we have a chance at a happy future together, then we need to do everything we can to make our marriage work. If, however, after a suitable time has passed we discover we are not a good match, I’ll go, leaving you with my name.”
Her posture straightened. “Really?”
“You don’t have to look so hopeful.”
“Sorry, but it is what I’ve wanted from the first.”
“Yes, well, we’ll see how long that lasts.” Alex looked forward to the challenge of wooing her.
“What about the money?” she asked.
“I won’t accept anything I haven’t earned as a carpenter. I won’t be paid for being a husband and protector.” He stepped up next to her chair. “So, are we going to do this?”
“We need to talk about children.”
“Okay.” Taking care with his ribs, he eased himself onto one of the sofas. “You said you’re terrified of having them. I think most women are afraid of childbirth, but medicine has come a long way in recent years. Doctor Dolan should be able to appease your fears. Have you talked to him?”
She shook her head. “Childbirth is not what worries me most.”
“If you’re afraid you won’t be a good mother, then I think I can quell those fears. From everything I’ve seen today, you’re a compassionate, caring woman who can also maintain discipline. I believe you’ll make a wonderful mother when the time comes.”
Her breath came out on a shudder. The lamplight glistened on the moisture in her eyes. “Thank you for your belief in me. When I was a little girl, I dreamed of having babies of my own. Of course, in my dreams, they were going to be my playmates. I didn’t have any brothers or sisters.”
He nearly smiled at her revelation, but an expression of loss moved into her face.
“That was before I knew about the trials of childbearing.” She scraped a fingernail over the chair’s padded leather arm. “My parents and I lived in Philadelphia, where my father owned a small but successful hotel and tried to father a son. I was born, but apparently there were complications. I arrived three weeks early and was very small. Father said it was because I was too eager to enter this world. He said I lived because I had a stubborn streak as deep as the ocean.”
Alex chuckled. “No one can dispute your iron will.”
“I admit that I can be very determined, which I believe I got from my mother. She did everything she could to try and give Father the son he wanted, but she miscarried over and over.” Julia dropped her gaze to the coffee table. “Each one of those tiny lives lost tore out a piece of her heart. After each loss, Mama suffered terribly from melancholia. My father ignored the problem while I sat beside her in bed, trying to be cheerful and make her feel better.” A tear trickled down Julia’s cheek.
Alex stifled the urge to wipe it away. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been very hard on you.”
More tears leaked from her eyes. She did not look at him. “Even after Father sold the hotel and moved us to California, Mama kept trying. The worst came when I was seventeen.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “My baby sister was born, and she was perfect, but she wasn’t the boy Father had wanted. Mama hated to disappoint him yet again, but she was thrilled to finally have another child. She had gone against doctor’s orders to get pregnant again. Not long after my sister’s birth, Mama died of blood loss.” She sniffed, pressing the heels of her hands to her face.
Alex wanted to reach out to her, gather her into his arms, but she seemed at home suffering by herself. He feared she wouldn’t want his comfort, and saying he was sorry didn’t seem enough.
“I felt like a ship that had been wrecked. It was horrible, but I had Lily. I named her for my mother, Lillian. Father hired a wet nurse, and I helped with Lily’s care. She was the sweetest thing, so innocent, beautiful, and helpless. When she was two months old and sleeping in her cradle, I went to check on her. She … wasn’t breathing,” Julia said raggedly.
Alex flinched.
“I screamed and screamed. The doctor said it happened sometimes, babies dying for no apparent reason.” She finally met his gaze. “Alex, I don’t want to have children. I can’t feel that kind of pain again. You don’t know what it was like.”
He knew exactly what it felt like. He considered telling her about Danny, his wonderful little boy, but even after more than three years, his wounds were too raw to bring out of hiding. Perhaps if he had been allowed to attend the funeral services, his sense of loss would not be so acute when his memories of Danny surfaced unexpectedly. He told himself he needed to move forward, not back. If he didn’t think about Danny, he was all right. He wanted children—boys to wrestle with and girls to show off, all of them racing each other to greet him on his return home from work. A family would complete him. He could not, however, disregard Julia’s fears.
“We’ve both suffered losses,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t have any family left either. My parents are buried back in Maryland, in the little town where I was born. They’ve been gone a good while now.”
He missed them, though. Even worse, Alex felt as if he had let them down. He had been born late in their married life, and they had spent the rest of that life working until their backs were bent and their joints stiff, scrimping on everything to see that he got the education they wanted for him, the education he had wanted as well.
He fiddled with a loose button on his suit jacket, thankful his parents hadn’t lived long enough to witness his downfall and suffer the loss of their only grandchild.
“What were your parents like?” Her tears had stopped flowing. “I’d like to know about them.”
“They were good people, and they had a good marriage. My father was a carpenter. He taught me everything he knew, but he always believed I could do more. As a child, I’d made structures out of wooden blocks and drawn pictures of houses and buildings on whatever scraps of paper I could find. The wall in my bedroom worked well, too, until my mother caught me at it one day.”
A fleeting smile lifted the corners of Julia’s mouth. Alex had to force himself to look at her eyes instead, which did nothing to lessen his attraction to her. Her eyes mesmerized him.
“No wonder you’ve shown such interest in the hotel’s architecture,” she said. “It’s a shame you didn’t become an architect.”
“I did become one.” He shrugged at the surprise in her face. “I went to school in Baltimore and ended up staying. I worked there for a number of years, met Elizabeth Ellingson—the woman who became my wife, and then … lost everything, including my ability to design. That’s when I took to the road.”
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Was she ill?”
He stared at the table, trying not to see the flames again. “No, she was … trapped in a fire.”
Julia clapped a hand to her mouth, but it didn’t cover her gasp. “Your poor wife! Now I understand why you became a drifter. Losing her like that must’ve been devastating.”
Julia didn’t understand the half of it, but he wasn’t ready to tell her the rest. “I’ve been tired of drifting for a while now. I want a home. A place where I belong.”
“And you want a f
amily.” She sighed, a touch of resignation in the sound. “Every man wants a son. My father never gave up in his quest for one. After my mother died, he remarried to try again.”
“I would be honored to have a son or a daughter, but not against your wishes or at the expense of your life. I’m not like your father.”
She stared at him and said nothing for a moment, as though she were unable to speak. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Julia, there are ways to avoid conceiving a child.”
“Yes. We can abstain from intimate relations.”
He swallowed a laugh. “I wasn’t thinking of that one. I’m not a priest.”
She chewed on her lower lip. It was full and pink and … Alex tore his gaze away before he could reach out and touch the fullness of that lip.
“I suppose celibacy would be asking a lot,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “Alex, I give you my word that I will do my marital duty, but just so there is no confusion, I wish to keep separate bedrooms.”
Marital duty? She sounded as though lovemaking was something to endure, not enjoy. Julia Fairbanks had a lot to learn, and Alex thanked heaven he would be the one to teach her, starting on their wedding night. She could have her separate bedroom, but he doubted she’d keep it once he initiated her into the pleasures of “intimate relations.” Just remembering her fascination with his bare chest in the doctor’s office made him wish he wouldn’t have to leave her tonight. Tomorrow night suddenly seemed a long way off.
“Julia, I will let you in on a secret. Intimate marital relations can be very enjoyable for both partners.”
Clearly skeptical, she frowned, two vertical creases appearing above her nose.
He raised his right hand. “It’s true, and I’ll make a promise to you. In my arms, you will experience the ultimate satisfaction and enjoyment.”
Her cheeks flushed. “I suppose we will see about that.” She sounded as if she had laid down a challenge.
“Yes, we will.” Alex could hardly wait to meet that challenge. He nearly smiled. “What time is the ceremony?”
“Six tomorrow evening. Here.”
“In this apartment?”
She nodded. Her hands roved over her skirt, rearranging the satin folds. “For such a small affair, this room is as good as any.”
“Julia, a private ceremony is one thing, hiding is another. I won’t marry you in here.”
“But I want to hide. I’m ashamed and embarrassed about this entire situation. I don’t want the world”—she motioned toward the door—“to witness my humiliation.”
“I would rather not be called your ‘humiliation,’ but I understand these circumstances were forced on you. It’s only natural you’d rather not celebrate them.” He scooted to the edge of the sofa. “However, a private wedding will raise questions. If we skulk around and marry on the sly, people are going to think you’re with child.”
She groaned. “I can’t have people thinking that. I’d lose all the respect I spent the last six months struggling to earn.”
“Then tomorrow you show the world a woman who is getting what she wants. Though I’d like to imagine I am what you want, I know—for now—it’s the hotel. Your guests and employees will see a happy bride, just as they would expect. No one will be the wiser.”
“Except for the Dolans. I told them the truth today, when I received the telegram from Phillip.”
“I would bet your secret is safe with them. After more than three years on the road, I’ve become a good judge of character, and I trust them.”
She nodded. “They are like family to me. I trust them implicitly.”
“Maybe they can help with the wedding arrangements. The gazebo we passed in the Garden Patio will be the perfect place for the ceremony.”
Her pretty mouth tightened. “That’s too public. Anyone could watch.”
“Exactly. You’ll be introducing me at one fell swoop, and your attacker will find out you’re no longer alone. Anyone bent on hurting you will have to go through me.”
She clasped her fingers so tightly they turned white. “You think the saboteur will try again?”
“I think we’d be foolish to drop our guard. Tomorrow morning, while the marshal is twiddling his thumbs trying to find out about me, I’ll start my own investigation. I’ll also spread the word about the ceremony. I expect you to do the same. Despite your shame and embarrassment, this wedding is going to be real.”
She stood abruptly and swished her skirts past the chair. “Tomorrow is going to be a busy and difficult day. I believe I’ll skip my rounds tonight and go to bed.”
“Good idea. Skip your rounds tomorrow morning, too, unless I’m with you. Let’s keep your assailant guessing.”
“All right. No rounds.” She started for the door. “I don’t want to do anything foolish.”
Alex took the hint and followed her. He walked slowly, though, thinking. For a woman who didn’t want to do anything foolish, she was planning to commit herself to the height of foolishness—marrying a man she barely knew. “Julia, are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this?”
She stumbled, righted herself, and faced him. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”
“No,” he said quickly, his answer removing the panic from her eyes. “I like you, and I want to marry again. Awhile back, I even proposed to a woman up in Oregon, but she practically shuddered at the thought of seeing this”—he touched his scar—“every morning and night.”
Julia studied his scar and shrugged, showing no revulsion at all.
Alex felt his heart clutch, then beat faster at the promise of happiness in front of him.
“Sometimes I wished I were ugly,” she said. “Then I wouldn’t attract so much attention. I’d rather be admired for what I do, not how I look.”
“If those people knew you, they’d realize the beauty that captured their interest is nothing compared to the beauty inside you.”
Her mouth opened slightly, and she licked her lips. Alex vaguely heard a clock ticking somewhere nearby. She swallowed, the movement tempting him to trail his fingers along the curve of her neck and beneath her ear. He imagined twining one of her decorative curls around his finger. And when her desire matched his own, when she leaned into him, he would kiss her. Their lips would—
She unlocked the door with a loud click.
He blinked, bringing himself back to reality. Disappointment nagged at him, and he comforted himself with thoughts of the wedding. He supposed he could wait until then for their first kiss.
Standing stiffly, all business now, she said, “Tomorrow morning, at eleven, my lawyer is bringing the marriage contract to my office.”
“Do we need that?”
“I do. You’re still a stranger, Alex, and I will do whatever I must to protect the hotel. You said money isn’t important to you. Therefore, you won’t mind signing away your rights, as my husband, to the hotel. I wish to remain the sole owner.”
“That’s fine with me. I don’t want what’s yours. I’ll meet you at eleven. Will you arrange to have the gazebo area set up for us?”
“Yes. And I’ll speak to Reverend Spencer about … the kiss. I know it’s becoming more common to include a kiss in wedding ceremonies, but I wish to leave it out.”
Alex felt like a boy who’d just had his lollipop stolen. “Wait a second. I was looking forward to that part.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but that gazebo will be a stage. Any kiss we share would be an act solely for the benefit of our audience, and I’m not an actress. They would know something wasn’t right between us.”
“If you say so.” So much for starting their marriage off right.
“I do say so.” She placed her hand on the knob and turned it. “I can’t take any chances on something going wrong. The deadline is too close.” She opened the door.
“Everything will work out. You’ll see.” He stepped into the hallway. “Good night, Julia. Lock the door and don’t let anyone lure you out.
I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As he walked away, he heard the click of the lock and felt some sense of relief. She was safe for now. But as he headed toward his room, Alex remembered the danger Alberta Hensley posed. If she remembered him, she could dash his dreams of a future with purpose and love. Worse yet, she could ruin Julia’s chance to keep the Hotel Grand Victoria.
* * *
Friday morning, Julia closeted herself with an account book in her small, paneled office beside the registration desk. The same disconcerting thoughts that had kept her awake most of the night continued spinning through her head. Alex had, once again, stepped in just when she needed him most.
He had rescued her from what she knew would have been a miserable marriage with Tom Landis. There was a price to pay, though. Alex intended to stay and try to make something real out of their arrangement. He intended to make love to her. Could his claim be true—that intimacy between a husband and wife could be enjoyable? Harriet, her stepmother, had described it as a duty that had to be “endured on a regular basis.” Plenty of guests, however, especially the couples staying in the two Bridal Chambers, seemed to look forward to checking into their rooms and not coming out for hours on end.
Julia decided to reserve judgment on Alex’s claim. At least he hadn’t dismissed her feelings about childbirth and losing a child. When he mentioned how his wife had died, the sorrow in his eyes had touched a deep chord in her heart. They had both, indeed, suffered.
She gave her head a shake. With so much on her mind, it was a wonder she had slept at all.
Leaning forward, she forced herself to concentrate on the account book in front of her, but when she added up the latest food and beverage expenses for the fourth time, she derived yet a fourth answer.
She threw down her pencil, leaned her elbows on the hand-carved oak desk, and propped her head in her hands. Why was she even bothering today of all days—her wedding day?
Once again, her thoughts returned to Alex. Last night, they had begun getting acquainted. Learning about his past had intrigued her. His parents must have been special people, and he had obviously been close to them.
