An Engagement in Seattle - Debbie Macomber [50]
A chime rang the hour from the anniversary clock Julia kept on top of her bookcase. It was only 5:00 a.m. and he should be exhausted. But he was drained, sated, happy. His wife slept contentedly at his side, her slim body curled against his. He kissed her cheek, grateful Julia was married to him.
He’d wanted to ask her more about Stanhope, but he could see the raw anguish the man’s name brought to her eyes, and even satisfying his curiosity wasn’t worth causing her additional pain.
Alek knew very little of this man, but what he did know, he didn’t like. He’d seen the way Roger had reached for Julia, placing his hand on her arm as though he had a right to touch her, to make demands. Alek didn’t like the way the other man had looked at her, either, with a leer, as if he could have her with no more than a few persuasive words.
Alek hadn’t thought of himself as jealous, but the quiet rage he’d felt when he found Roger Stanhope pestering Julia couldn’t be denied.
The man was a weakling. Stanhope relied on his sleek good looks, his flashy smile and compelling personality instead of intelligence, honest work and business acumen.
Alek wasn’t fooled. Roger Stanhope was an enemy. Not only of Julia’s, but Jerry’s, as well. Julia hadn’t explained the telephone conversation she’d had with her brother, even when he’d asked.
Although she’d tried to make light of Jerry’s call, Alek had caught snatches of the conversation, enough to know she was worried. She’d been unable to disguise her distress. Stanhope wasn’t worth one iota of anxiety. As Julia’s husband, it was up to Alek to make sure that the man who’d betrayed her and her family wouldn’t be allowed to do so again.
Alek was gone when Julia woke and she instantly experienced a surge of disappointment. One look at the clock explained Alek’s absence. The last time she’d slept past ten had been as a teenager.
Nevertheless, she missed him. A slow smile spread over her lips. She’d married quite a man. Obviously he worked with as much energy and enthusiasm as he made love.
She climbed out of bed and threw on her robe. Since it was Saturday, and her week had been hellish, she intended to relax. There would be problems enough to deal with on Monday morning. The desire to rush into her office today was nonexistent.
She was knotting the belt on her pink silk robe as she wandered into the kitchen. Anna was there, busily whipping up something delicious, no doubt.
“Good morning, Anna.”
“Good morning.” Alek’s sister stopped what she was doing and brought Julia a cup of coffee.
Being waited on was a luxury that would soon spoil her. “I’ll take care of myself,” Julia told her, not unkindly. “You go back to whatever you’re doing.” She walked over to the counter and on closer examination saw that the contents of Anna’s bowl resembled cookie dough. A sample confirmed her guess. Oatmeal raisin, she thought.
“Yum.”
Anna grinned at the compliment. “Alek asked me to bake them this morning for your picnic.”
Julia paused halfway across the kitchen floor. “Our picnic?”
“Yes, he left a note asking me to pack a basket of food. He gave me a long list of everything he wants.”
“Where is he?” Julia asked, adding cream to her coffee. “Do you know?”
Anna shook her head as she resumed stirring the thick batter. “No. He had some errand. He doesn’t tell me much. I’m only his sister.”
“He doesn’t tell me much, either,” Julia added with a short laugh. “I’m only his wife.”
Anna giggled. “He should be back soon. He said you were very tired and wanted to be sure you slept as long as you needed. I’m very sorry about your grandmother.”
“Thank you—I’m sorry, too,” Julia said, breathing in deeply at the fresh stab of pain she felt at the mention of Ruth’s death. That pain would be with her for a long while. Losing her grandmother had left a wide, gaping hole in her heart. Alek’s love had helped her begin to heal, but she would always miss Ruth.
Sitting down at the table with the morning paper, Julia tried to focus her attention on the headlines. Soon the words blurred and ran together. The tears came as