Summer Brides. Debbie Macomber

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      When she didn’t respond, he sighed and added, “I know why everything went so smoothly with the Immigration official. You, my dear wife, are in love with me.”

      The audacity of the comment was shocking. “I’m what?”

      “In love with me,” he repeated.

      “You’re badly in need of some reality therapy,” Julia said, making her words as scathing as she could. “That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said.”

      “Wait, I promise you it’ll get better. Much better.”

      “Much worse, you mean,” she said with an exaggerated yawn. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get some sleep.”

      “Later. We need to talk.”

      “Alek, please, it’s nearly midnight.”

      “You’ve already admitted you hadn’t been to sleep.”

      “Exactly,” she said. “And I need my rest.”

      “So do I.”

      “Then leave it until morning,” she suggested next.

      “You’re my wife. How long will it take before you live up to your end of our bargain?”

      “I…already explained I need time…to adjust to everything. Why are you doing this?” she cried, furious with him for dragging out a subject she considered closed. “I refuse to be pressured into making love just because you’ve got an overactive libido.”

      “Pressured,” he echoed, and a deep frown formed. He rubbed his hand over his face, sighing audibly. “I’ve been waiting for you since our wedding night. You agreed that we’d be married in every sense of the word.”

      “It’s only been a few weeks,” she protested.

      “Ah, but you love me. You proved it this afternoon. There’s no need to wait any longer, Julia. I need you, and you need me.” With a knowing smile, he turned and walked away.

      The comment irritated her so much she couldn’t bear to let it go unanswered. Grabbing her pillow with both hands, she threw it after him. It hit the doorframe with a soft thud that was barely discernible. She knew Alek heard it, however, because he started laughing.

      The following morning, as was her habit, Julia rose early and stood barefoot in the kitchen while she waited for the first cup of coffee to filter into the glass pot. The aroma pervaded the kitchen.

      “Morning.” Alek spoke groggily from behind her.

      Julia’s eyes flew open. Normally Alek didn’t get up until after she’d left for work. “Morning,” she greeted him with little enthusiasm.

      “Did you sleep well?”

      No. “Fine. How about you?” Her attention remained focused on the coffeepot. She didn’t dare turn around to confront her rumpled, groggy husband. Knowing he was only a few feet behind her activated her imagination. His hair was probably unkempt and his eyes drowsy, the way hers were. He’d look sexy and appealing.

      “Julia,” he whispered, moving forward. He slipped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck. “We can’t go on like this. We’re married. When are you going to recognize that?”

      She braced her hands against his, which were joined at her stomach. His lips located the pulse pounding at the side of her neck and he kissed her. Small, soft kisses…

      Julia’s breath caught in her throat. “Alek, please, don’t.”

      “Stop?” He raised his head as though she couldn’t have meant it.

      “Yes.”

      “I couldn’t sleep for want of you,” he whispered.

      Her throat felt as dry as a desert. Speaking was impossible.

      “All I could think about was how good you tasted and how much I wanted to hold you and kiss you again,” he went on.

      The coffee had finished brewing, but Julia couldn’t make herself move.

      “I know you want me, too. Why do you torture us like this?”

      “I…have to get to work.” Each syllable was a triumph.

      “Let me make love to you,” Alek urged, his mouth close to her ear.

      “No. We can’t. I…I’ll be late for work.” She didn’t wait for him to argue with her, but rushed toward her bedroom. Toward sanity.

      By the time Julia reached her office, she was in a terrible mood. She blamed Alek for this. As much as she wished it, she wasn’t made of stone. She was flesh and blood. A woman. When he kissed her and touched her she experienced a certain sexual yearning.

      It was inevitable. A mere physiological reaction. It meant nothing. He insisted she was in love with him, but Julia knew that was just talk. Sweet talk, with a single purpose. To seduce her.

      Julia had been seduced before, by an artful master. In comparison, Alek was so much more honest and, therefore, easier to defend herself against. She refused to give in to his pressure, subtle or otherwise. As for misleading him, she had, but only to a limited degree.

      Furious now, she marched into her office, reached for her phone and dialed Jerry’s extension. “Can you come up?”

      “Yes. Is everything okay?”

      “No.”

      Jerry paused. “I thought things went hunky-dory with the inspector.”

      “They did, as far as I know. This has to do with Alek.”

      “I’ll be right up,” her brother said.

      She was pacing her office with precise steps when he arrived. Julia stopped, angry with herself, feeling close to tears and not understanding why.

      “What’s wrong?” he asked, his concern evident in his eyes.

      “I…there’s a problem.”

      “With what?”

      “Whom,” she corrected. “Aleksandr Berinski.”

      Jerry frowned, then sighed with resignation. “What’s he done?”

      “Everything… Listen, I don’t want to get into this. Let me make this as plain and simple as I can. I think it’s time he moved out of the condo. One of us has to and it’s either him or me.”

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