She was married to a man she didn’t love, a man who didn’t love her, either. To complicate everything, her grandmother was dying. This was what her life had come down to. A loveless marriage and a desperate loneliness.

When Julia released her grandmother, Ruth looked up and brushed the tears from Julia’s cheeks. “You’re crying?” she asked softly. “This should be the happiest day of your life.”

Alek placed his arm around Julia’s waist and helped her into the chair next to the bed. He stood behind her, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. Julia pressed Ruth’s hand to her cheek and held it there. Her grandmother seemed much weaker today.

“I remember when I married Louis,” she said with a wistful smile.

Her grandfather had been dead many years now. He was only a vague memory to Julia, who guessed she’d been about seven or eight when he died.

“I was frightened out of my wits.”

“Frightened?” Julia didn’t understand.

“I wondered if I was doing the right thing. There were very few divorces in those days and if a woman happened to marry the wrong man, she was often sentenced to a miserable life.”

“But I thought you’d known him for a long time.”

Ruth arched one delicate brow. “A long time?” she repeated. “In a manner of speaking, you’re right. But we’d only gone out on a handful of dates before we were married.”

“I’d always assumed you knew Grandpa for years.”

Ruth’s hand stroked Julia’s cheek. “It’s true that in the early days Louis worked for my father at the paint company my family owned. I’d see him now and then when I dropped in at the office, but those times were rare.”

Julia was enthralled. She knew her grandmother had deeply loved her grandfather, but she couldn’t remember ever hearing the story of their courtship.

“When did you fall in love?”

“Louis stopped working for my father, and Dad was furious with him. They were both strong-willed men and it seemed they were constantly disagreeing. Louis started his own business in direct competition with my family’s.” She smiled whimsically. “It was a bold move in those depression years, before the war. He managed to keep his head above water, which infuriated my father even more. I think at that point Dad would’ve taken pleasure in seeing Louis fail.” She paused and closed her eyes for a moment, as though to gather her strength.

“Then the war came and Louis joined the army. Before he left for England he came to the house. I thought he was there to see my father. Can you imagine my surprise when he said I was the one he’d come to see? He told me he was going overseas and he asked if I’d be willing to write him. Naturally I told him I would be, and then he did the strangest thing.”

When Ruth didn’t immediately continue, Julia prompted her. “What did he do?”

Ruth shook her head. “It was such a little thing and so very sweet, so much like Louis. He took my hand and kissed it.”

Her grandmother’s gaze fell to her hand, as if she still felt the imprint of his lips.

“As I look back on it,” Ruth went on, “I realize that was when I lost my heart to Louis. You see, I don’t believe he ever expected to return from the war. He loved me then, he told me much later, and had for a long time, but Louis was afraid Dad would never approve of him as my husband.”

“How long was he away?”

“I didn’t see him for three years, although I heard from him regularly. I treasured his letters and reread them so often I nearly wore them out. By the time he came home I was so deeply in love with him, nothing else mattered. My family knew how I felt and I feared the worst when Dad insisted on accompanying me to meet Louis’s train.”

“What happened?”

Ruth’s smile was weak, but happy. “Dad offered to merge his business with Louis’s. Even though Louis himself had been away, his small company had survived the war. Louis accepted, with the stipulation that both the company and I take on his name.” She smiled again. “It was a…unique proposal. My father agreed without much hesitation—and I agreed with none at all. We were married less than a month later.”

“What a beautiful story,” Julia whispered.

“We had a wonderful life together, better than I dared dream. I’ll never stop missing him.”

Julia knew her grandmother had taken Louis’s death hard. For a long while afterward, she’d closed herself off from life. It was in those bleak years that Julia’s father had wisely sent Julia and Jerry to spend the summers with their grandmother.

“You, my children,” Ruth continued, turning to Alek, “will have a good life, too. Alek, be gentle with my lamb. Her heart’s been bruised, and she can be a bit…prickly, but all she needs is love and patience.”

“Grandma!”

Ruth chuckled and gestured with her hand. “Off with you now. You don’t want to spend your wedding night with me.”

“I love you,” Julia murmured as Ruth settled back against the pillows. “Have a good sleep, and I’ll call you in the morning.”

“It was a privilege to spend this time with you,” Alek said. Reaching for her grandmother’s hand, he bent down and kissed it. “I would have liked your Louis,” he told her. “He was a rare man of honor.”

A smile coaxed up the corners of Ruth’s mouth. “Indeed he was. When we first married, there was talk, there always seemed to be talk. Some folks said Louis had married me for my connections, for the money I would one day inherit. Few realized the truth. I was the fortunate one to be loved by such a man.”

Julia looked at Alek, but when their eyes met, she quickly glanced away.

“Now go,” Ruth urged. “This is your wedding night.”

The words echoed in Julia’s ears. Her grandfather had been a man of honor, but she clearly hadn’t inherited his grit or his honesty. She planned to cheat Alek and he was about to learn exactly how much.

Julia had surprised him. Alek had misjudged this woman who was now his wife. For two years he’d studied her, astonished by her tenacity. Jerry had told him little of what had led to the company’s financial problems. Ever since his arrival, he’d picked up bits and pieces of what had happened, but no one had explained the events that had brought near ruin. From what he understood, Conrad Industries had come very close to introducing a long-lasting exterior paint with a twenty-five-year guarantee. Jerome Conrad, Jerry and Julia’s father, had been a chemist, too, and he’d been personally involved in developing it. The company was on the brink of making one of the most innovative and progressive advances in the industry. This high-tech development was expected to have a dynamic impact on sales and give Conrad Industries a badly needed financial boost. The company had been set for expansion, confident of success. Then a series of mishaps occurred.

This was the part that remained vague to Alek. He’d heard something about a burglary and a defection to a rival company. But by far the worst was a huge fire that had destroyed the lab and the warehouse. Not until much later had they learned the fire was arson.

An employee was suspected. That much he’d been told by Jerry. But there wasn’t enough proof to prosecute whoever it had been. Shortly after the fire, Jerry and Julia’s father had suffered a heart attack and died. It was then that Julia had taken over the company. They’d struggled for a year, trying to recover lost ground, before Jerry made the arrangements to bring Alek from Russia. Since that time he’d been working hard on implementing his ideas.

“You’re very quiet,” Julia commented, breaking into his thoughts.

He glanced over at his bride. Her nervousness didn’t escape him. He wanted to do whatever was necessary to put her at ease. He’d enjoyed listening to the story of Ruth and Louis Conrad’s love. It had touched his heart, reminding him of his own grandparents, long dead. They’d loved each other deeply and he could have asked for no finer heritage. His grandfather had died first and his grandmother had followed less than a year later. His mother claimed her mother-in-law had succumbed to a broken heart.

Julia shifted restlessly in the car. He caught the movement from the corner of his eye and wondered about this woman he’d begun to love. He’d been observing her for two years; he knew her far better than she could possibly grasp. And he’d known the instant Jerry had suggested they marry that he would accept nothing less than total commitment from her. He was not a man who did things by half measures. He looked forward to the time he would sleep with his wife. He’d sensed fire in her, but hadn’t realized how hot the flames were until they’d kissed. Really kissed.

No woman had ever affected him as strongly as Julia. The kisses had enhanced his appetite for what was to follow. He would be patient with her. Careful and slow. Although every instinct insisted he take her to his bed now, do away with her fretting and worry so they could enjoy the rest of the evening together. He must be patient, he reminded himself.

“Where would you like to go for dinner?” he asked. He suggested a couple of his favorite restaurants.

“Dinner?” she echoed, as though she hadn’t given the matter a second thought. “I…don’t know.”

“You decide.”

“Would you mind if we went to my…our condo?” In one of their few practical conversations, they’d agreed that he’d move into her place; his own apartment had been a furnished rental, so there hadn’t been much to bring over—just books, his computer, clothes and a few personal effects. He had a small moving company take care of it and continued to pay rent on the place so his sister, Anna, could eventually move in there.

Alek’s nod was eager. She would relax there and—what was the American term—unwind? Yes, she would unwind so that when the time came for them to retreat to the bedroom, she’d be warm with wine and eager for his touch.

“We’ll have to send out for something,” Julia announced when they reached the high-rise condominium. It was situated in the heart of downtown Seattle on the tenth floor, overlooking Puget Sound. A white-and-green ferry could be seen in the distance. The jagged peaks of the Olympic Mountains rose majestically to the west. The day had been clear and bright, but now the sun was setting, casting a pink glow over the landscape.

“Send out?” he repeated, frowning.

Julia stood in the middle of her modern home and clasped her hands in front of her. “I don’t cook much.”

“Ah.” Now he understood. “I am excellent in the kitchen.” In the bedroom, too, but he couldn’t say that without embarrassing her. She would learn that soon enough.

“You want to make our dinner?”

“Yes,” he answered, pulling his attention from the magnificent view and following her into the kitchen. He liked her home. The living room was long and narrow with windows that extended the full length. The dining room and kitchen were both compact, as if their importance was minimal.