A Matter of Marriage (19 page)

Mary
winked at Julia, refastened Julia’s clothing, and covered her with a light
blanket.

Alex
managed to button the borrowed shirt most of the way up the front. The width was
enough to accommodate the doctor’s well-fed stomach.

The
chest hair exposed in the V below Alex’s collarbones captured Julia’s gaze. She
rather wished Mary had not returned so quickly to clothe him.

The
door flew open, crashing against the wall.

Julia
jerked her head up and stared in amazement as Tom Landis shoved an impeccably
dressed and stumbling Tyler Wolff through the doorway. His fedora dropped over
his eyes and fell to the floor.

“Marshal!”
Dr. Dolan stepped in front of her, blocking the newcomers’ view of her. “What
do you think you’re doing? This is a medical office, not a jail cell.”

“I’ve
apprehended a fugitive,” he said, puffing out his massive chest. His star of
office was polished to its usual high shine. “I caught him boarding the ferry.”

Julia
leaned out to see around the doctor.

Wolff
had his back to her as he scooped up his hat and glared at the marshal. “I am no
fugitive.” He straightened his clothes. “Now will you please tell me why you
dragged me off that boat?”

Tom
Landis glared back at him. “To arrest you for the attempted murder of Julia
Fairbanks … MacLean.” He jerked his head toward her.

Dr.
Dolan stepped aside.

“What?”
Wolff spun around. “Julia? My God! Are you all right?” The concern in his voice
and the sincerity in his eyes floored her. He strode toward the examining
table, but Alex stepped into his path. Wolff leaned from side to side to see
around him. “What happened?”

“As
if you didn’t know,” the marshal said.

“I
don’t.”

“She
was shot,” Dr. Dolan said while Mary placed two pillows under her head. “Fortunately
the bullet only creased her side.”

“I
didn’t shoot her. Julia, I swear.”

“That’s
‘Mrs. MacLean’ to you,” Alex said.

Wolff
scrutinized him from top to bottom. “You must be the husband.”

“I
am.”

“Well,
Mr. MacLean, I had nothing to do with hurting your wife.”

Julia
wanted to see Wolff better. “Alex, let him come closer.”

He
shifted over, but only after curling a hand around the man’s upper arm. “Try
anything, Wolff, and you’ll lose the use of this arm permanently.”

Wolff
stared at him, eyes narrowed, then tipped his head in acknowledgement. “Understood,
but know that I have been wrongly accused. Marshal Landis, did you find a gun
on me?”

Tom
took his hat off and slapped it against his thigh. “You could’ve thrown it in
the bay. You had ample opportunity.”

Wolff’s
shoulders went back, and he seemed to stand taller. “I never had a gun to begin
with. Why would I want to kill Jul— Mrs. MacLean?”

She
propped herself up on one elbow. “To carry out your threat. You want the Hotel
Grand Victoria, and you told me yourself you’d have to ‘do things the hard way’
because I wasn’t cooperating.”

“I
was talking about the bank! I went to First California’s manager and suggested
the board of directors find a way to call in your loan, which would force you
to sell. I am no killer. I am a shrewd and patient businessman who doesn’t need
to resort to violence to get what I want.”

She
laid her head back, trying to process what he’d said and formulate a response.
The man willingly admitted he had purposely put her ownership of the hotel in
jeopardy. Did she dare believe his claims about not resorting to violence?

She
studied his unrepentant expression. “You succeeded very well at your game of
business, Mr. Wolff. The bank did call in my loan, and, as I’m sure you know, I
can’t afford to pay it.”

“Call
them off, Wolff.” Alex’s hand tightened on his arm.

He
winced. “I can’t. My suggestion was a foregone conclusion before I ever made
it. First California was hit especially hard during the Panic, and their
recovery has been slower than most of the other banks that survived. To sustain
their bank, the board of directors needs whatever money they can get out of
this hotel.”

Julia
felt as if she were deflating like a balloon. She believed him. She’d seen
firsthand the signs that not all was well at the bank. The building’s interior
hadn’t been kept up, and fewer employees worked there now.

“Mr.
Wolff,” she said, “did you pay one or more of my employees for information
about me and the hotel?”

“I
did, and I don’t apologize for it. In any business, accurate information is the
key to success. I used two of your more disgruntled male employees, whom I met
after spending some time in The Privateer, one of the taverns frequented by
your staff.”

“Tell
me their names.”

Dr.
Dolan laid his hand on her shoulder. “Julia, perhaps you should interrogate the
man another time. You ought to rest.”

“Doctor,
I want to know who betrayed me.”

Wolff
hesitated, then shrugged. “Chalmers and Levesque.”

“Jacques?”
She could easily believe Chalmers a traitor, but her maitre d’? Until now, she
had attributed his occasional lack of respect to his temperamental disposition.

Alex’s
voice filled the silence. “Did you pay one of them to kill Julia?”

“No!”
Wolff yelled. “How many times do I have to tell you? I wouldn’t hurt her. I
offered to buy the hotel, not steal it. Though, by rights, it should be mine.”

She
exchanged astonished looks with Alex, Mary, the doctor, and Tom. “Yours?”

“Yes,
mine. Lloyd Alwin Fairbanks was my father.”

Julia
couldn’t make a sound.

Mary
gasped loud enough for all of them.

Everyone’s
face but Wolff’s registered surprise and disbelief.

Julia
swung her gaze back to him. Really looking at him, she was rendered mute a
second time. Now she knew why he looked familiar. His eyes, the shape and hazel
coloring, were her father’s eyes.

He
pointed at her. “That would make you, Mrs. MacLean, my half-sister.”

A
bubble of hysterical laughter popped out of her. This was priceless. Her father
had wanted a boy more than anything else. Over and over, he had tried to father
one when, in truth, he already had one.

“My
father didn’t know about you, did he?”

Wolff’s
expression closed down on itself. “No.”

Marshal
Landis stepped forward. “Julia, you can’t believe what this man says. He’s
trying to swindle you. If he didn’t shoot you, I’ll arrest him for something
else.”

“I
appreciate your offer, Tom, but I do believe him. Look at his eyes. His chin,
too. They’re the same as my father’s were.”

Everyone
stared at his face, which reddened under the scrutiny.

Questions
whirled in her head, and another bubble of inappropriate laughter burst from her.
She clamped down on it long enough to ask, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“Two
years older than I.” He would have been conceived before her parents married.
At least her father had not betrayed her mother with another woman. “Regardless
of your age, if Father had known about you, the hotel would have been yours. He
longed for a son.”

Tears
leaked from her eyes at the irony, and she began to cry from her heart. Her
mother had died needlessly, trying to give Father what he already had. Why
hadn’t Wolff made himself known before now?

Julia
gulped air but couldn’t draw enough.

Alex
dropped to his knees beside her and grabbed her hand. “You’re freezing.”

“It
could be shock,” Dr. Dolan said. “Everybody out. Now.”

While
Mary spread a heavier blanket over her, Alex rubbed her hand between both of
his. “It’s all right, Julia,” he said, a catch in his voice. “You’re going to
be fine. You have to be fine.”

Julia
awoke to her dark room and the sound of Alex’s low-pitched snores coming from
her rocking chair. The moonlight entering through the window silhouetted him,
and she guessed he must have been as tired as she to fall asleep in the chair.
He had been sitting there when she’d dropped off late this afternoon after he
and Dr. Dolan installed her in her bed with orders to rest.

Trying
not to wake him and careful not to dislodge the bandage under her modest white
muslin nightdress, she got up and tiptoed into the water closet. When she came
back out, the snores had ceased and Alex was sitting up.

“How
are you feeling?” he asked.

“Good.
Refreshed and hungry.” Standing beside her bed, she switched on the lamp and
glanced at the clock.

“What
time is it?” he asked, surveying her modest nightdress with more attention than
seemed normal.

When
she realized the lamp behind her was revealing her body to him, she quickly
stepped aside. “Just after ten. Have you been in that chair since this
afternoon?”

“No,
your chef sent dinner up a few hours ago.” Feet bare, he stood and stretched.
Dr. Dolan’s shirt had been replaced with one of his own, and it pulled across his
chest as he raised his arms. “I ate it in the other room so I wouldn’t disturb
you.”

“Is
there any left?” she asked, dragging her gaze up to his face.

“Enough.
Beef and barley soup, ‘to strengthen your blood,’ I was told. I’ll heat it up and
bring it to you. There’s fresh bread, too.”

“Alex,
I’m perfectly able to eat at the table.”

“I
can see that, but, if you’ll recall, I promised Dr. Dolan I wouldn’t let you
out of bed. You scared us when you couldn’t catch your breath.”

“I
know. I scared myself. My emotions got the better of me. I couldn’t stop
thinking about my mother. If my father had known he had a son, Mama might still
be alive today.” Avoiding further thoughts of her parents and half-brother, she
started for the door.

Alex
stepped in front of her. “Julia, I intend to keep my word to the doctor. Please
get back into bed.”

She
peered up at the implacable expression on his face. This was the man she loved,
the man who wanted to stay with her and who had risked his life to carry her to
Dr. Dolan. The temptation to touch him was too strong to deny. She pressed her
fingertips, then her palm, against the center of his chest. Beneath her hand,
his heart beat strong and fast, faster than she expected.

“What
are you doing?” His hand came down on hers, and his brown eyes glimmered with
golden specks that flashed in the lamplight. His intent gaze ignited a
scorching heat deep inside her.

“I’m
… not sure.”

Inhaling
his masculine scent, she realized her appetite for food had fled, replaced by a
hunger for her husband. She loved Alex, and she wanted him to make her his.
Until they consummated their marriage, they wouldn’t truly be husband and wife.

She
licked her lips and stepped closer to him. Beneath her hand, his heart pulsed
faster, encouraging her. “I will go back to bed if you will join me there.”

His
brows rose. “Are we negotiating the terms of a possible wedding night, Mrs.
MacLean?”

“No.
Tonight I want nothing to do with terms or contracts. I do, however, want you
to be my husband in the most intimate way possible. Show me that your claims
about lovemaking are true.”

His
eyes seemed to darken. His chest rose and fell with the deep breath he took and
released. “Oh, Julia.” Her name came out on a sigh. “You don’t know how much I
want to do just that. I’ve wanted you from the very first, but”—he gritted his
teeth and slid his hand out from between their bodies—“you’re hurt. I won’t
risk aggravating your wound.”

Staring
up at him, she silently refused to let him be his gallant self and walk away. “I’m
not in any pain. This”—she lowered her hand to her wound—“is no worse than a
scraped knee. If it worries you, though, we can be extra careful.” She reached
up and cupped his jaw. “Please make love to me, Alex. Make me your wife.”

He
groaned, as if struggling with himself. “What about your fear of pregnancy? The
sheathe we need to prevent conception is in my bathroom. I’d have to leave you
for a minute.”

“I
don’t want you to go anywhere, Alex.” Not now. Not ever. She lowered her hand
to his shoulder. “I’ll always be afraid of childbirth, but when I recently spoke
to Dr. Dolan about your recovery, I also discussed my fears with him. He said I
am a ‘very fit specimen of womanhood,’ and there’s no reason to think I’ll
suffer the same complications my mother did.”

“What
about the possibility of … losing a child?”

“Through
you, your Danny, and my sister, I’ve realized how important it is to cherish
whatever limited time we have with the ones we love. We have to risk our hearts
to enjoy the greatest rewards—love and family. Do you still want children?”

“I
always wanted to give Danny brothers and sisters. I loved being a father.
Playing with him was the highlight of my days. Now that I’ve let him back into
my life, I’m no longer starting over. I’m moving forward, and I’d like to give
fatherhood another try.”

“I’m
glad. I think you must be a wonderful father.”

“A
word of warning. I’m going to be an extremely overprotective father.”

“I
won’t mind that a bit.” She trailed her index finger the length of his scar. “Thank
you for marrying me.”

“Thank
you for asking.” His lips came down on hers, gentle and warm. She reached
around his neck, and his arms came around her back. He eased her against him,
careful not to touch her wound.

Julia
melted into his embrace and answered his kiss. It deepened, their tongues
dancing in rhythm. She relished the solid feel of his chest. Farther down, a
certain prominent part of him pressed intimately against her. The knowledge
that she was the woman he desired made her body tense with mutual desire. Julia
threaded her fingers into his hair, giving herself up to him and the love in
her heart.

Time
came to a standstill for her, the clock only beginning to tick again when Alex
stepped back from her. His breathing was harsh and loud in the quiet of her
bedroom. She wanted him to come back to her, to take her in his arms again and
kiss her even more thoroughly. She wanted to feel his gentle but callused
fingertips grazing across her flesh.

“Are
you leaving?” she asked, desperation in her voice.

“Not
on your life.” He began to unbutton his shirt.

Her
relief and longing made her limbs shake. Their wedding night was only just
beginning.

She
watched him in fascination, her attention riveted on his fingers and the
widening expanse of muscled flesh. Her fingers tingled, as if they wanted to
touch him, but she kept her distance, admiring him under the soft light from
the lamp. When he turned and tossed the shirt aside, she saw the vividly
colored bruises marring his back. They reminded her of how much he had done for
her. He was her hero. He had saved her life the first time they met, rescued
little Joshua from certain drowning, and whisked her to the doctor when she
might have bled to death.

She
began to unfasten her nightdress, beginning at the top button of the high, ruffled
neckline.

“That
is the primmest nightdress I have ever seen,” he said. “It makes me want to
uncover every hidden part of you.”

“Oh.”
She didn’t know what else to say. His unwavering gaze made her fingers fumble the
buttons.

He
gently pulled her hands away. “Let me.” The deep timbre of his voice set
butterflies free in her stomach. Their wings beat more swiftly with each button
that came undone. The backs of his knuckles skimmed her breasts as he worked.

She
drew quick, shallow breaths, and her back arched involuntarily.

He
smiled at her, a smile so open and easy and knowing that it took away what was
left of her breath.

Her
nightdress soon fell to the floor with a whispered rustle, pooling around her
ankles. The air was cool on her body, the bandage around her middle the only
covering. She felt no shame. This was what she wanted, what they both wanted—the
real beginning of their life as a married couple.

Alex’s
gaze roved over her. Julia felt herself warm. Her breasts swelled, and her nipples
tightened to small peaks. When he offered her his hand, she took it and stepped
clear of the garment at her feet, holding onto him with a trust she had never
given to anyone before.

*   *   *

Pulse
galloping, Alex stood in front of his wife. He recognized the trusting look in
her eyes, and he vowed to control his passion. Though he was more than ready to
make love to her—long-overdue ready—he didn’t want to frighten or hurt her. He
would take great care with her wound. He would also take his time, following
through on his promise that their first time together would be slow and
sensual, every moment worth savoring. Their postponed wedding night would be as
wonderful for her as it would be for him, if not more so.

He
let go of her hand and stroked her glorious hair. The ash-blond strands
shimmered in the light from the lamp, draping her neck and back and shoulders. He
lifted what felt like a thousand silken threads.

“Your
hair is as beautiful as the rest of you.”

“Will
you be touching the rest of me, too?” she asked, tempting him, a wanton
yearning filling the innocent, brilliant blue of her eyes. Her scent of sweet
and tangy orange blossoms floated on the air, drawing him to her.

“Oh,
yes. I will be touching every inch. Starting now.”

Her
breasts were high, with dusky-rose nipples beaded tight. Softly rounded hips
led to legs that were longer than he had imagined. Dark blond curls seemed to
glisten between her thighs. With excruciating slowness, Alex stroked his
callused hand from her shoulder, down her arm, over her hip, and along her leg.

She
moaned softly and swayed under his touch. Her body trembled.

“You
all right?”

“Yes,”
she croaked.

“Shall
I continue?”

“Oh,
yes.”

He
smiled and placed his hands on her hips, careful not to dislodge the gauze
holding the dressing at her waist. “Lean back a little. Trust me. I won’t let
you fall.”

She
did as he said, her chest lifting like an offering to his palate.

He
lowered his head and took the bud of one breast into his mouth, gently nibbling
at the hardened nipple, laving his tongue over it.

She
released another moan. When he switched to her other breast, nipping and
sucking, she gripped his arms, arched, and gasped her pleasure, a boundless longing
in the stirring sound.

His
body lurched, every part of him burning for her. He lowered her onto the bed,
then stepped back and shucked his canvas pants and cotton drawers, kicking them
across the floor.

She
watched, and her potent gaze made him painfully harder than he already was. His
heart beat like a steam engine at full throttle.

“Are
you afraid?” he asked.

“No.
Not with you.” She shimmied into the middle of the bed as her gaze roamed over
him again. “Besides, you’re beautiful. I never thought a man’s body could be so
captivating.”

He
wasn’t beautiful, not with his scarred face, but he liked hearing that his wife
admired his body.

“You’re
the one who’s beautiful.” He knelt on the edge of the bed, captured her hand,
and lifted it to his lips, kissing the palm and each fingertip, sucking on her
littlest finger. When he lay down beside her, he slowly swept his hand down the
length of her arm to the soft curve of her hip and thigh.

Tonight,
Julia Fairbanks MacLean would be his wife in every respect. He had never wanted
any woman as much as he wanted her. He was a lucky man.

*   *   *

She
waited, nearly breathless from the lingering feel of Alex’s hand on her body.
She’d had no idea a man’s touch could elicit this many sensations or that just
looking at his naked body could arouse her. Seeing the proud jut of his manhood
had started a throbbing deep in her womb and the private place between her
legs.

Waves
of desire as relentless as the surf buffeted her. When she recalled her
innocence of a week ago, when she had first seen Alex without his shirt, she
could hardly believe she was now seeing all of him, and feeling no shyness or
shame. Everything in her hummed with a craving she had never known. She wanted
nothing more than to open herself to him, welcome him into her body—and do her
marital duty. She smiled.

He
leaned over her. “What are you smiling about?”

“I
was just thinking how enjoyable a wife’s marital duty can be with the right man,
‘a man of experience,’ as Kate would say.”

“Hmm.
How about a man who wants to please his wife more than himself?” he murmured
between kisses.