A Matter of Marriage by Ann Collins Page A

Julia’s worries. Alex’s obvious attraction to her was a
much bigger problem. If Alex MacLean married her, Julia had a strong suspicion
he would want a wedding night.
    Imagining
herself enfolded in his arms again, shut away in her apartment with him, she
shivered, the feeling not entirely unpleasant.
    “No,”
she said, louder than intended. “I can’t marry him. Why, he doesn’t even have
references.” If she had known she might be interviewing him for the job of
husband, she would have asked him more questions.
    Dr.
Dolan threw up his hands. “Julia, the man risked his own self to protect you.
What better reference can there be?”
    The
doctor had a point, and yet …
    He
grasped her hands and hauled her to her feet. “Young lady, you are out of
options. Go find Mr. MacLean and make him an offer he can’t refuse.”
    *   *   *
    Julia
reluctantly cast her reservations aside and hurried along the front veranda.
The doctor was right. She was out of options and had to be practical. To hold
on to the hotel, she was going to propose marriage to Alex MacLean.
    Inside
the hotel’s entrance, a high-pitched yap stopped her. A Yorkshire terrier with
a tiny pink bow on her head peered beseechingly up at her.
    “Hello
there.”
    The
dog yapped again.
    She
picked up the small dog and stroked her silky hair. A velvety tongue licked her
hand, and she laughed softly. “You’re a friendly little thing. Where’s your
owner?”
    “I
was wondering the same thing.”
    Julia’s
heart jumped into her throat. She whirled. “Mr. MacLean! You startled me.” She
hadn’t expected to see him this soon. She wasn’t ready to see him. She needed
time to work out how best to present her proposition.
    He
shrugged. “I didn’t mean to.”
    When
he said nothing more, such as where he’d been, what he’d been doing, or how he
happened to be here the very moment she was, she said, “How do you like your
room?”
    “I
don’t have one. Your favorite desk clerk claims the hotel is full.”
    She
shut her eyes a moment and blew out a breath. “We are not full, and he had no
right to turn you away.” She settled the dog against her chest and eyed Mr.
Chalmers across the Rotunda. The desk clerk was serving a well-endowed matron
dressed all in black. A matching hat pinned over white hair was trimmed with
netting that obscured her features. “I really must do something about him.”
    “I
demand to see the manager this instant!” came an imperious, irate voice from the
matron.
    Julia
tried to stay calm, telling herself, One thing at a time. I can handle
whatever comes if I do it one thing at a time.
    The
terrier squirmed and whined.
    “Young
man, if you won’t call the manager,” the woman said, her voice rising even
higher, “I will.”
    A
small group of guests chatting beneath the gallery turned as one, their
conversation halted. A man wearing a cutaway walking suit paused while peeking
inside the door to the Crown Room, as many visitors did, to admire the large
dining room. From inside came the clink of silver and china as waiters set the
tables for the rapidly approaching evening meal.
    “Where
is he?” The matron’s foot drummed the marble floor, perilously close to the
shiny brass spittoon.
    Julia
cringed. A guest this displeased would spread her dissatisfaction, ultimately
hurting the hotel’s reputation and bank account. Her employees depended on her
and the success of the hotel to pay their wages. Between mortgage payments,
staffing, maintenance, food costs, and the price of a bridegroom, she could not
afford to lose any customers.
    She
pushed the dog at Alex, giving him no choice but to take her. “Please excuse
me. I need to sort out a problem.”
    He
handled the dog with ease, and the tiny terrier lay without complaint in the
palm of his hand.
    Julia
strode away, but she glanced back once and would have laughed if she hadn’t
been so distracted. A man of Alex’s size and build holding a miniature dog with
a pink