by Ann Collins
“Mother, stop blushing. I didn’t say anything inappropriate.” Kate smiled slyly. “Not yet anyway.”
Mary’s eyes widened. “Not at all, I hope.”
Kate twirled in a circle, then leaned close to Julia. “Mr. MacLean, as a widower, is obviously a man of experience. Imagine what a kiss from him must be like.”
Mary’s mouth dropped open. “Kate!”
“Oh, Mother, don’t be an old hen. Kissing a man like Mr. MacLean must be heavenly.” She sighed dramatically. “I’m glad he’s staying.”
“Only if we are compatible,” Julia said.
Kate continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Julia will have a real marriage, and she won’t have to pretend to anybody or make up stories.” She swished her skirt. “I can’t wait to see him kiss her during the ceremony.”
Julia started to shake her head, but the clock in the sitting room began chiming. Six o’clock. She froze. She was late, and yet she hesitated to go at all now that the moment was here.
Mary pulled a handkerchief from inside her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes. “Oh my goodness, the next time that clock chimes, you’ll be a married woman. I can hardly believe it.”
Neither could she. Maybe being homeless and penniless wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe the new owners would care about the hotel and her employees as much as she did.
“Come on.” Kate grabbed her elbow and dragged her toward the door.
“Wait,” Mary said between sniffles. “Where’s your bouquet?”
“I … don’t have one. Oh, Mary, there’s so much I didn’t do. I didn’t even arrange for music.”
“It’ll be fine, dear. All you really need is the minister and the groom.”
“Hurry up,” Kate said. “Let’s go.”
Julia hastened from the apartment feeling as if she were trapped in the surf, her lungs burning for air. Each successive wave rolled her over and over, driving her deeper under the sea. She tried not to think about it. Soon she would fulfill her father’s final decree, and the Hotel Grand Victoria would be legally hers. But the price was so steep. She was tying herself to a stranger.
* * *
Alex checked again that his new pewter-gray, lightweight wool frock suit was buttoned properly. It was, which left him with nothing to do but peer around the Garden Patio from his station at the bottom of the gazebo’s stairs. Two sparrows chirped to each other from the branches of a fruit-laden lemon tree. Above, streaks of pink and orange tinted the twilight sky. Guests and employees lined the walkway railings along the upper floors surrounding the courtyard.
Alex examined the faces for anyone who looked out of place, whose expression betrayed hatred or malcontent. No one like that popped out at him in the diminishing light. He saw Theo, however, in a prime viewing spot on the second floor. The bellboy waved.
Alex nodded to him, then scanned the area again, this time for Marshal Landis and Alberta Hensley. He saw no sign of either of them, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there somewhere. Now that he was dressed like a man of means again, he worried that Alberta would recognize him. And that would not be good.
Reverend Spencer stood inside the lighted gazebo. The round-faced, black-robed minister wore a smile that stretched from one thick red sideburn to the other. It seemed the man enjoyed officiating at weddings.
Alex swallowed hard and fiddled with his new cravat. He could hardly believe he was about to say “I do” to a woman he’d known for a day—to any woman, for that matter. He still couldn’t believe his scar didn’t bother Julia to some extent.
“Quit fidgeting,” Dr. Dolan said, standing beside him as his best man. “I didn’t buy you that suit so you could wear it out the first time you had it on.”
“I’m a little nervous. Two days ago, I never thought I’d be getting married again.”
The doctor patted his arm. “You have a generous heart, helping Julia out of her predicament like this. We appreciate it.”
“I’m not as generous as you think, Doc. I believe Julia and I have a good chance of making this marriage work. Of having a real relationship.” At least, that’s what he had thought before Julia whirled away from him in her office.
The doctor’s eyes sparkled. “Well, if this isn’t a most interesting turn of events.” He laughed. “Welcome to the family.” He shook Alex’s hand. “My Mary and Kate will be delighted. Oh, here they come now.” The doctor’s smile grew. “And, oh my, look at Julia. What a beauty!”
Amidst the sweet fragrance of a nearby orange tree, Alex peered along the subtly lighted pathway, past palms and bird-of-paradise, fruit trees and blooming hibiscus. Mary and her daughter scurried forward, taking their places nearby. When Alex finally saw Julia, he forgot to breathe.
She stood at a bend in the path with the painted sky reflected in the white satin of her skirt. A lace-covered bodice hugged the curves of her waist and chest, enticing him with thoughts of what lay beneath. Her lovely face, and the luminous blue eyes he could only imagine at this distance, were framed by delicate, curling tendrils of ash-blond hair.
Alex couldn’t tear his gaze from her. Julia Fairbanks, heralded by the muted sound of the surf, was about to walk down that path and become his wife.
But she didn’t move.
Wringing her empty hands, glancing around at the growing number of spectators, she looked as if she might bolt. She had no father to walk her down the aisle, and it seemed she hadn’t asked anyone else. No fuss or fanfare was right.
Alex almost left his station to go and get her himself, but then a man he’d seen working in the hotel’s gardens hesitantly stepped up to her, offering her a bouquet of deep red roses.
The thoughtful gesture appeared at first to surprise her, then to calm her and strengthen her resolve. She gave the man a warm smile and started forward. The Crown Room’s string quartet, seated behind a large hibiscus bush, began playing a soft rendition of the Wedding March.
Her steps faltered, and her head twisted toward the sound. The men had apparently taken it upon themselves, like the gardener, to make this evening special for her.
She regained her footing, and a quavering smile touched her lips. Her eyes glistened. Slowly, in time to the music, she made her way toward him. Her skirt and petticoat whispered with each step that brought her closer.
Alex’s heart raced. His blood streamed through his veins. Judging from his body’s reaction to her, he knew that Julia’s insistence on having the kiss omitted from the ceremony had been a good idea. There would be plenty of time for kisses later.
Two steps away now, she passed her bouquet to Kate Dolan.
Alex stepped forward. She did not reach for him, though, and he kept his arms at his sides.
Dr. Dolan left them alone and joined his wife, who dabbed at her eyes and sniffed into her hanky.
Alex leaned down, nearly touching his cheek to Julia’s loosely bound hair and the stylish hat barely covering her head. “You look stunning.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “You look quite dashing yourself.”
He studied her for any sign of a lie. To his amazement, he saw none. Since his injury, he had never expected to hear a woman honestly describe him as “dashing.”
“Is that a new suit?” she asked.
“Compliments of the doctor. He insisted I dress appropriately for the ceremony and took me to the gents’ furnishing store downstairs. I promised to pay him back, but he wouldn’t hear of it.”
“He’s a kind and thoughtful man.” She briefly lowered her gaze. “A better person than I. Alex, I’m sorry for the way I treated you in my office. I was in a fretful state, and I pushed you away when you were only trying to help me.”
He admitted he had not reacted well to her rejection. During the ferry ride to San Diego, he had begun to worry that marrying Julia was a mistake. But he had given her his word, and he would not go back on it. Her apology restored his faith in her and their future together.
“I promise I will always do my best to help you. I
hope you’ll remember that. Apology accepted.” He held out his hand to her.
She took it, accepting him, scar and all.
The reverend cleared his throat and beckoned them to enter the gazebo lit with a golden glow.
She licked her lips. “It’s time.”
“Yes, it is,” he said, more ready for this than he ever would have imagined.
Hand in hand, they climbed the stairs and took their places.
Reverend Spencer began the ceremony, preaching about love and marriage as the sky darkened into night. Alex’s thoughts strayed to his first marriage and the huge church wedding Elizabeth’s parents had insisted on. Of the five hundred eighty-nine guests present, only ten were people Alex had invited. James Barrett, his school friend and business partner, had been his best man, but their partnership could not withstand the events that subsequently changed Alex’s life forever.
“Mr. MacLean?” Reverend Spencer prodded.
He jerked his attention back to the minister. “What?”
The man stroked one sideburn. “The correct response is ‘I do.’”
“Sorry. I do.”
The minister continued, then waited for Julia to answer the same question.
“I do,” she whispered.
Reverend Spencer squinted one eye. “I’m sorry. My hearing’s not as good as it once was. Could you repeat that, Miss Fairbanks?”
“I do!” Her resounding reiteration made the gallery titter. She cringed.
Alex suppressed a chuckle.
“Very good.” The reverend grinned like the sales clerk who had sold Dr. Dolan the new suit. “Please face each other and join both hands.”
Alex took her hands and squeezed them. Marrying Julia was a new beginning for him. With her, his life would have purpose and the prospect of happiness. It might even have what he wanted most—love.
The minister intoned the vows that Alex happily repeated. “I, Alexander Devlin MacLean, take thee, Julia Ann Fairbanks, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part. This is my solemn vow.”
She made her vows as well, though she stumbled on the part about loving and cherishing him.
“The ring, please,” the minister said.
Alex released her hands, fumbled in his coat pocket, and brought out the ring she had given him this morning. He handed it to the minister, who said words over it and gave it back.
As Alex lifted her left hand, he felt her trembling. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, gently working the ring onto her third finger. “It’s almost over.”
She drew a shuddery breath. “It’s only just beginning.”
The minister spoke again, and Alex repeated the words. “In token and pledge of the vow made between us, with this ring I thee wed, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”
Reverend Spencer blessed them, raised his voice and said to all the onlookers, “I pronounce that they are man and wife together, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.”
Applause and cheers erupted from everywhere. Mary sobbed.
As Alex was about to turn and lead his bride back down the stairs, the noise abated and Reverend Spencer’s voice boomed out, “Mr. MacLean, you may kiss your bride!”
* * *
Julia froze, staring at Alex as he stared back. He looked as surprised by the minister’s declaration as she felt. Simultaneously, they faced Reverend Spencer.
He slapped a hand over his mouth. “Dear me, I didn’t mean to say that. I’m sorry. It just came out. Habit, I suppose.”
Julia heard Kate giggle behind her, then Mary shushing the girl. From one of the balconies came a yipping sound—Muffie, the little Yorkshire terrier.
“You don’t have to do it,” the reverend quickly added. “I’ll just introduce you and that will be that.” He raised his arms and peered around. “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Mr. and Mrs. MacLean.”
More applause greeted his announcement, but then a man with a deep, reverberating voice shouted, “Kiss her!”
Several other voices joined his, beginning a chant. Hands clapped in a rhythmic beat that left no question as to what everyone wanted.
Julia wanted to disappear under the gazebo until the crowd dispersed. Once again, others were forcing her to do something she preferred not to do. At the very least, her first kiss with Alex should be saved for a private venue, but choosing not to kiss him now would disappoint her guests and employees and lead to questions she didn’t want to answer.
“It’s up to you,” he said to her.
The chanting and clapping continued.
“Go ahead. I’ll try to act convincingly.” Though she told herself she wouldn’t feel anything, a traitorous flutter of anticipation made her pulse take flight.
“I’ll try to do the same,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes. He encircled her waist with his arms, pressing his warm palms against her lower back.
An expectant hush fell over the crowd.
He pulled her gradually closer. “Mrs. MacLean.” He spoke the words, acknowledging their bond for life. Then he smiled, widely and warmly.
Staring up at him, captivated by the smile she had never seen, Julia felt as if rational thought had been knocked right out of her head. His smile transformed his entire being. His face seemed to glow with an inner light. Tiny golden flecks glinted in the brown of his eyes. His prominent scar seemed to fade away. He laughed, the sound deep and warm and catching her off guard.
Dizzy, she grabbed his upper arms for support. His hold on her thankfully tightened. Without him, she felt sure she would have fallen down the stairs and landed in a heap of white satin.
His smile grew as he peered down at her.
Her breath hitched, and for the first time since she met Alexander Devlin MacLean, she feared her heart might be in more danger than her life.
His head lowered, and his mouth covered hers, tenderly at first, then with a growing sense of possession. His hands pressed deeper into her back, forcing her hips, stomach, and breasts against his solid build.
Too shocked by the sensations swirling within her, she did not react at first. But then a tiny, uncontrollable quiver swept over and through her. She might have even made a sound, though she couldn’t be sure. Alex smelled of raw masculinity and the ocean air. She closed her eyes and opened herself to him, willfully kissing him. Their lips melded together, mouths meeting, opening, exploring, and tasting.
She let her senses take over. Her hands, as though of their own accord, slid up to his shoulders and the back of his neck. She lost track of everything but the man holding her hard against him, tantalizing her with his lips and tongue.
Sometime later, whether seconds or minutes she had no idea, Julia registered the sound of Reverend Spencer coughing and clearing his throat. She also heard loud cheers, whistles, and laughter echoing around the courtyard.
Her eyes popped open. She broke off the kiss, bringing her hands to rest on Alex’s rapidly rising and falling chest. She tried to catch her breath.
He peered down at her, his eyes so dark with desire that she trembled. What had she done, losing herself first in his smile and then in his kiss? Kate had been right. A kiss from Alex MacLean was heavenly. She had not needed to act like a stage performer. But what must her guests, employees, and minister think of her after such a passionate display? Some of them might call it wanton.
Her face flamed, and she pushed away from … her husband. “That’s enough.” She had to think of the hotel and her reputation.
He blinked several times, as if he had been as lost in their kiss as she. His arms dropped to his sides, and he stepped back. The cool evening air rushed in where she had been warmed and protected by his touch and body.
Julia quickly discovered that she already missed his touch, and that frighten
ed her. This man was her husband. Tonight they would share her apartment. Once inside, they would be alone, on their wedding night.
A chill skittered over her. She wasn’t ready for this, not at all, not when she had yet to recover from a single kiss. Fear overwhelmed her tingling senses. Already, she felt as though she were losing what she had fought so hard to become—an independent woman. She had lost herself in a kiss, and she was afraid of one day wanting to do whatever she could to please Alex, just as her mother had done with Father.
Julia silently moaned. What was she going to do?
Chapter Eight
“One last toast, my friends.” A bit unsteadily, Dr. Dolan held his champagne glass out to the bottle-carrying waiter working his way around the table set up especially for the wedding party.
The Crown Room buzzed with talk of the ceremony two hours after the fact, and the string quartet continued to play melodies associated with love.
Alex did not accept more champagne. Despite the celebration, he had drunk very little. A threat against Julia’s life still existed. As her husband and protector, he intended to keep her safe. What he really wanted to do was whisk his wife upstairs to the safety of her apartment and finish what they had started in the gazebo. With that one kiss, she had permanently awakened his long-dormant urges. He wanted her more than ever. She’d been a passionate partner, soft and yielding, yet also demanding, as hungry as he.
In the end though, she had pulled away. Alex had seen in her eyes how stunned and dismayed she was at her behavior. During dinner, she had tried to keep some semblance of distance between them, but her attempts had failed, thanks to the maitre d’. Jacques had placed their chairs so close together her tantalizing wedding dress brushed Alex’s leg every time he or she moved.
Mary Dolan and her daughter, both smiling broadly, lifted their glasses for another of the doctor’s toasts.
Julia’s smile appeared less than genuine, though she raised her glass, too.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Dr. Dolan said, “I present this toast to our Julia. As of tonight, the Hotel Grand Victoria has a long and rosy future ahead. I also offer this toast to Alex, who made it all possible, and who we welcome with open arms.”