Her Russian Hero (International Romance Series) (16 page)

Adopting the same worldly tone,
she narrated the whole trip peppering her monologue with as many formal
appellations and ceremonious expressions as she could fit in. She lifted her
chin toward the spying bulb and concluded pompously, “Major General Fedorin, in
the name of the American delegation, I can’t thank you enough for taking the
trouble to come and receive us in the middle of the night. I will be forever
grateful for this courteous gesture that reflects the Belarusian spirit.”

She placed a hand over her mouth
to avoid giggling as she saw him bite his lips and gesture to cut it out. “The
EAL Lab has analyzed the soil and water samples collected from the surroundings
of Minsk,” she added more seriously. “We did identify several carcinogens at a
concentration above the maximum allowable limit. The radiation level was also
high enough to cause concern. I will present the results to Dr. Kadelov.”
Talking business was the last thing on her mind at the moment but the samples
analysis was a top priority for him.

“According to the analysis and
your professional experience, can we assume that these carcinogens and the
radiation are responsible for the high rate of cancer that has plagued our
citizens?”

“Based on the numbers I have
seen, I’m convinced of that fact.”

“Is there any way you could be
wrong, Dr. Lornier?”

“General Fedorin, the quality
control and quality assurance that we perform leave no doubt about the accuracy
of the results. You have to accept the fact that Minsk is heavily
contaminated.” Although she understood his need to be certain, she was shocked
that he questioned her professional capability.

“Thank you for the analysis, Dr.
Lornier. We’ll talk about it later.”

Sergei remained quiet, his
silence indicating that he was trying to digest the meaning of the analytical
results. Was he thinking about his wife? She’d died of cancer caused by these
same carcinogens EAL lab identified in the Minsk’s soil. Had Cecile convinced
him that he was not responsible for his wife’s death? Could he finally throw
away the guilt that had burdened him for years? Cecile hoped the analytical
results would bring an end to his nightmare and a new beginning she could
share.

His hand moved along her jaw and
caressed her cheek. He couldn’t say sweet words in the official Jeep with
Nicolai and John in the front seat. She didn’t need words. She melted against
him, happy and secure in his arms, her true home.

The car entered downtown Minsk.
They both straightened up in the seat and edged away assuming a more decent
posture as the pale rays of the early morning sun bathed the city and flickered
in the car.

When they arrived at the hotel,
the Jeep lined up against the curb behind the van and stopped. Nicolai jumped
out and opened the door on her side. The general pressed her hand. “Dr.
Lornier, we won’t have any meeting today. Your delegation needs some time to
recover from the ordeal of the trip. I will see you tomorrow at the Hall of
Officers.”

He followed her outside, out of
earshot. “Cecile, can Nicolai bring you to my flat this afternoon, at five?”

She nodded and spun around to
collect her luggage, and Sergei reentered the car.

* * * * *

General Fedorin looked at his
watch for the hundredth time. What could have happened to delay them?

He dusted the furniture, aired
the kitchen, boiled the potatoes and marinated the steaks. He was sure Cecile
wouldn’t mind a repeat performance of her first dinner—besides he didn’t know
how to cook anything else. This time, the bouquet adorning the center of the
table consisted of three blooming roses with a penetrating fragrance.

It was already six o’clock. He’d
been waiting for an hour, whiling away the time with several vodka toasts and
soft Russian music. Too restless to sit, he paced the little living room
feeling like a lion in a cage. For the tenth time, he repeated the same
question, “Where is Cecile? Why isn’t she here yet?”

The absence of a telephone
enraged him. He’d disconnected and removed the existing telephone right after
Sofya’s death. He hardly came to this place. He glanced at his watch.
Six-fifteen. And there was no way to communicate from the claustrophobic flat.

Unable to cope with more helpless
suspense, Sergei yanked his coat off the hanger and shoved a
chapka
on
his head. He would go to the nearest grocery store and call the colonel.

Before he could leave his flat,
the expected knock banged at long last. Sergei sighed with relief and opened
the door with a big smile that instantly faded when he saw Nicouvitch alone.

The colonel entered and kicked
the door closed behind him. “She’s sick. She couldn’t come. I’ve waited for
half an hour at the street corner outside the hotel. I finally went to call her
from the grocery store. Her voice was so weak.”

Sergei couldn’t believe his ears.
Cecile sick? Cecilya who exuded energy and good health? So sick that she would
miss coming to a date with him, after such a long separation. Anxiety gripped
at his throat.

“Sick with what?”

“She said, as soon as she checked
in her room she went to sleep. Then she woke up after an hour with terrible cramps.
She threw up several times. May be food poisoning or a virus. You should have
heard her, my
Generalle
. She kept apologizing. She said she spent some
time sitting on the floor of the bathroom unable to walk back to the bed.”

“Does she need a doctor? Can we
take her to a clinic? Or get her some medicine?” He was thinking fast trying to
find a solution to cure her.

“I told her I would bring her a
doctor but she immediately squeaked and said, ‘No doctor please.’ Their
Department of Defense had warned them never to go to a doctor in a foreign
country.” Nicouvitch shook his head. “I think she doesn’t trust our doctors,”
he said with a tilt to his head and an expression of naïve disbelief.

“Can you blame her?” Sergei
raised a brow sarcastically.

“Well, I had in mind a good
physician, from the old communist regime. Not an arrogant puppy fresh out of
medical school.”

“So she is sick and all alone in
her room.”

“No, my
Generalle
. I
called John. Tania came to help her. They are all around her now.”

Sergei slammed his fist on the
table. “They are all around her. All but me. I should be the one taking care of
her when she needs me. I’m going to the hotel.”

“No, you’re not.” Nicolai grabbed
him by the shoulders. “Listen to me, Sergei. We, your officers, trust you and
support you as our future president. Only you have enough dedication and
loyalty to save Belarus from total collapse. Don’t jeopardize your position for
a woman.”

Sergei scowled. “She’s not just a
woman, remember that.”

“Don’t let me rue the day I
helped your relationship,” the colonel exploded. “Does she mean more to you
than your country, than your officers, or your dead wife?”

Sergei closed his eyes and
dropped his head backward. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized how much he
wanted her. But could she really mean more than Belarus?

No, nobody—not even his wife—had
come before his country. He heaved a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, Nicolai. I forgot my
duty and my patriotism.” He threw a gloomy glance at Nicouvitch. The colonel
leveled a sympathetic gaze on him, understanding his inner struggle.

“Go see her on my behalf. Take
the flowers for her. Tell her I wish I could visit.”

Nicouvitch clasped his arm.
“Thank you, Sergei, for coming back to your senses. I will officially visit the
American Program Manager on behalf of the
Majo
r
Generalle
. It’s
the least we can do after all she did for our country. But the
Major
Generalle
cannot be seen in her room.”

“The Major
Generalle
of
Belarus will never be allowed a private life.” Feeling dejected and guilty,
Sergei let his brooding voice reflect his inner bitterness.

“I’ll keep you posted and as soon
as she feels better I’ll bring her to you.” Nicouvitch touched his heart. “I
promise.”

“Cancel the Hall of Officers
meeting and postpone the trip to the airport. The equipment can wait a few more
days,” he ordered briskly. “Nicolai, take the steaks for your family.”

“Yes, my
Generalle
, thank
you.” Nicouvitch left with a bag containing the food and the vase of roses
wrapped in a newspaper.

* * * * *

Cozily tucked in her bed, under
comforters and blankets, Cecile dozed intermittently. Tania stayed with her
while the men dined at the hotel restaurant. They had stopped by her room and
checked on her, each one bringing whatever medicine he’d found in his safety
kit. Preferring to let her stomach rest, she’d refused to swallow anything.

Right now, the vomiting had
subsided but her missed date with the general hurt more than the pain in her
stomach. She knew Sergei would make it up to her. Still their days and hours
together were numbered. It was pathetic to be stuck in this bed when she could
have been enjoying his bed and his company.

A knock on the door surprised
her. The men had hardly started their dinner. Tania went to open the door and
her exclamation reached Cecile. Her acting nurse came back to announce, “The
colonel is here to see you. Can you receive him?”

Of course she would receive him.
She wanted to hear news about Sergei. She raised herself on the pillows and
asked Tania to hand her a sweater to wear in lieu of a robe. The room was warm
enough with the heating now allowed in Belarus but Cecile needed something to
cover her pajamas.

“We hope you feel better. For
you, from the
Major Generalle
who wishes you a speedy recovery.”

Nicouvitch presented her a vase
of gorgeous red roses. Delighted, she took the vase and stuck her nose in the
flowers. “They smell divine.”

Poor Sergei, she imagined his
disappointment. There was no way he could visit her in the hotel but he sent
her the expensive flowers to cheer her up. “Please, tell the general I love the
flowers. Thank him for me.”

She deposited the vase on the
night table and twisted on the pillows to face it.

To her surprise, Nicouvitch unscrewed
a bottle of vodka, filled a shot glass and handed it to her. Befuddled, she
gasped. “Are you kidding? I can’t swallow anything.”

“Trust me, Cecile, vodka is the
best thing to cure you. It will cleanse your system. You’ll be back to normal
faster than you can count to ten.”

She grimaced. “I know it’s almost
pure alcohol but be real. There’s no way I’m drinking this stuff in the shape I
am.”

“Cecile, you treat your American
ailments with your medication. In Belarus, vodka is the safest medicine. My
mother used to stuff a spoon of vodka in our mouth when we were sick. Sure
enough it would stop our cough.” He brought the glass to her lips. “A few
drinks will kill all your germs.”

“I must be crazy to listen to
you.” She sighed and sipped from a shot glass until she emptied it. She felt
warm and relaxed.

“Go ahead, a second one,”
Nicouvitch coaxed as he gave her another drink.

“I’ll be drunk soon.” She giggled
as she emptied the next one. “How many am I supposed to down according to your
prescription?”

“Two or three more until you
sleep.”

In fact two shot glasses later,
she couldn’t raise her head from the pillow. Tania helped her slide down into
the bed. The last thing Cecile heard was Nicouvitch’s distant voice. “She’ll
sleep until tomorrow. We should leave her now.”

Chapter Fourteen

Things never changed. His duty to
his country continued to detain him from the women he cherished at the very
time they needed him.

In his flat, General Fedorin
opened the window allowing the icy wind to cool his head. He stared
absentmindedly at the surrounding buildings. Cecile was here, in Minsk, several
blocks away, sleeping or suffering in her room and he was forced to stay away.

So often, he had wished Cecile
would need him. Sofya had been a delicate angel he protected and nurtured but
Cecilya was a strong woman with a character of her own, intelligent,
self-confident and assertive. She never asked for protection. All she wanted
was love—although she’d never mentioned the word—and she was ready to accept
whatever he gave her on his own terms. She had called him her general, her
hero. His heart filled with tenderness…and with guilt.

He slammed the window shut and
took the potato pot to the table, eating directly from it, hoping that
Nicolai’s kids would enjoy the steaks. Surviving in Belarus on a colonel’s
wages required much deprivation. He knew for a fact that most of his officers
couldn’t afford meat more than once a week. Life in his country was difficult.
He had made it his mission to try to improve it.

Sergei sighed, wondering if the
pampered Dr. Lornier could adjust to their way of living, the subzero winter
weather, the lack of heating during the cold months of the fall and the harsh
details of their daily routine. He downed a shot of vodka while pondering the
next question. Could she ever love him enough to give up her career and come to
live in Minsk?

For a crazy minute, he
fantasized, imagining her lying in his big bed, waking up at his side in the
morning after a night of thorough lovemaking. Maybe fixing him breakfast or
dinner.

No, he chuckled, Dr. Lornier was
not much of a cook.

Who cared about food? He hungered
for her body and her presence.

What if she agreed to stay with
him?

“Be real, you fool.” He snorted
and slammed his fist on the table. “You have nothing to offer, nothing but
tenderness and love.”

He swallowed a second shot of
vodka.

What if she craved these things?
After all, she already possessed everything else, money and whatever it could
buy and a successful career and its sterile glory.