“In this country, there’s hope that glasnost is for real. At the same time, there are large factions who distrust General Secretary Gorbachev. They think he’s playing some kind of complex hoax to lure American into lowering its defenses.” She shrugged. “I want glasnost to work. I think it’s wonderful.”
Sobering at Abby’s admission, Alec said, “If it’s a hoax, then I’m being fooled, too. I’m not a Communist. I never joined the Party, which is why I’ve been distrusted even in my position as an officer.” He smiled fondly. “Fortunately, my focus has always been on the men who worked for me, not on any great goals to become an admiral in the fleet.”
“Good for you. It’s about time people started caring and being responsible for other people. You’re a man with a heart and conscience. I didn’t see that combination on the Udaloy among any other officers too much.”
He stretched his long legs out in front of him and enjoyed the newfound freedom of Abby’s country. “I’m considered a lone wolf,” he said with a chuckle. “My mother has a very dry sense of humor and has passed it on to me. At school, the teachers tried to beat it out of me, but it didn’t work.” He flashed her a smile. “And like a wolf, I know how to hide well. I refused to lose some parts of myself after I entered the navy.”
“I imagine your people benefited from it directly.” Abby liked his ability to smile, unlike his Soviet counterparts who always wore such stern and unforgiving expressions. And she admired his inner strength to resist a society that obviously wanted to make clones of everyone.
Looking at her watch, Abby realized an hour had flown by. “It’s eleven o’clock—you’ve got to be exhausted.”
Alec stood when she scrambled to her bare feet. “This is the first time we’ve really been able to sit down and talk. I enjoyed it.” The truth was, Alec had hungrily been looking forward to the time alone with Abby. She was intensely interesting to him on so many levels.
Catching his hand, she smiled and led him down the hall. “I loved it, too. Tomorrow Tim is going to take us over to a McDonald’s so you can see what one looks like. It ought to be the highlight of your day,” she said with a laugh. Opening the second door on the right, Abby motioned Alec through. “Your home away from home. This is your bedroom. The bathroom is on the other side of the hall. Let me get a quick shower and then it’ll be all yours.”
As Abby stood in the darkened hall, her face softly shadowed, Alec had to physically stop himself from reaching out to caress the slope of her flushed cheek. “Of course. What time do we get up tomorrow?”
“We get to sleep in, thank goodness!” She hesitated, seeing the burning intensity in his sable eyes. Swallowing against a dry throat, Abby whispered, “Good night, Alec. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
*
ALEC LAY ON HIS BACK in the bed, the floral sheet and the colorful quilt up to his waist. His fingers were laced behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. It had been an hour since he’d gotten a shower and gone to bed, but the excitement of the day was still with him, much like adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream after a demanding and exhausting naval exercise.
His mind centered gently on Abby. He liked her passion for life, her fire and her vulnerable heart. There wasn’t anything that didn’t touch her, he thought. When she had talked of Susan, he’d seen tears brim her eyes, as if she emphatically felt her friend’s pain. And when Abby had spoken of her parents, her blue eyes danced with such life that an ache had begun in his lower body. Her hands were never still as she spoke, and she used them like a graceful ballerina to silently punctuate her speech. The urge to lean forward, tunnel his fingers through that rich, red mass of hair that caressed her shoulders had been very real all night long.
Never had Alec been drawn as fiercely as he was to Abby. He closed his eyes and saw her mobile face, that delicate coverlet of freckles across her cheeks and nose. Her eyes shone with such life that it haunted him. Abby was life. A whisper of a sigh broke from his lips as he turned onto his side and allowed sleep to claim him. The coming week was going to be the best he’d ever had, he decided.
*
WHEN ALEC STUMBLED SLEEPILY out of his bedroom the next morning, dressed in a pair of dark brown slacks and a white cable-knit sweater, he found Abby busily cooking breakfast. Sinking down on a stool at the breakfast bar, he placed his elbows on the surface of the counter and smiled. Abby was in a pair of jeans and an apricot-colored sweater. Her hair was caught up with a white plastic clip at the back of her head and it looked like the cascading mane of a horse, decidedly provocative and appealing in his eyes.
“Good morning,” he murmured.
“Oh!” Abby whirled around. Alec’s sleep-ridden features and his tousled hair made him look more like a little boy than a Soviet officer. The picture made her heart beat hard in her chest, as if to underscore the magnetism he exuded. She wasn’t immune to his lazy smile, hooded eyes and undoubted masculinity.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Abby quickly put the scrambled eggs and a rasher of bacon on a plate in front of him. “That’s okay, it’s just me. Here’s breakfast. I was just going to wake you up.”
Alec couldn’t believe the eggs on the plate were real and not the powdered variety used aboard ship. As he tasted them, he was genuinely surprised. “This is very good.”
Unconsciously, Abby touched her cheek, which felt hot with blush. “Thanks. I’m not a gourmet cook or anything. Mom taught me practical cooking, not fancy cooking.”
Alec finished every bit of food on his plate. When Abby joined him, she had an odd-looking mixture in a bowl that sat before her.
“What’s that?”
Laughing, she said, “Commonly referred to as ‘rabbit food.’ It’s strawberry yogurt, granola and some apple chunks.” She spooned up some of the yogurt and held it out to him. “Want to try it?”
The dancing merriment in her eyes couldn’t be resisted, so Alec ate the offered spoonful.
Abby sat watching his expression as he munched and crunched on the food. “I don’t see you hating it,” she teased with a laugh.
“It’s very good, this rabbit food.”
“Maybe by the time you leave, I’ll have turned you into a vegetarian.
Pointing to his empty plate in front of him, Alec said dryly, “I doubt it.”
A knock came at the apartment door and Abby slid off the stool to answer it. Lieutenant Atkin, looking handsome in his dark blue Coast Guard uniform, smiled.
“Good morning, Dr. Fielding. May I come in?”
“Call me Abby. Yes, do come in.”
Taking off his officer’s cap after the door shut, he told Abby, “And you can call me Tim when we’re alone.” He grinned suddenly. “I don’t stand on too much formality unless it’s necessary.”
Laughing, Abby led him to the breakfast bar. “Great! Come and sit down. Have you eaten yet?”
“No, ma’am, and I’m starved. Usually, I stop at McDonald’s, but I didn’t even have time to do that this morning.” Tim sat down and nodded to Alec. “Good morning, sir.”
With a smile in Abby’s direction, to the Coast Guard officer, Alec said, “Call me Alec. I agree, formality is something to be set aside whenever possible.”
Tim grinned and laid his briefcase on the counter. “Sounds good to me. Abby, I’ve brought copies or clippings of reports on yesterday’s press conference from every major newspaper I could find. I’ve got to tell you—the two of you are a major happening!”
“I hope it’s all good news, Tim. Just a minute, let me whip up some breakfast for you.” Abby quickly made Tim a plate of scrambled eggs and fried more bacon. She saw that Alec had gulped down the bacon like a starving man, so she made him another rasher. When she placed it on Alec’s plate, the grateful smile he gave her went straight to her heart. Again, her pulse bounded unevenly, and Abby realized how sensitized she was to him, to his moods and feelings. It was a pleasant discovery.
Abby came around the counter
and sat on a stool between the two men. She picked up a copy of the Washington Post. Immediately, her brows knitted. “I knew this would happen,” she said, pointing to a front-page article.
“What?” Tim asked.
“My nemesis, Dr. Monica Turner. She hates me.”
Alec scowled, picking up the mug and sipping the hot coffee. “Why would anyone hate you?”
“Dr. Turner is the political advisor I told you about. The one on the International Whaling Commission who I locked horns with over whaling issues the past five years. She’s more interested in the infrastructure of power than the job she’s working at.” She turned to Tim. “Did you read this article and the blas;aae communiqu;aae issued by the White House?”
“Yes, I did,” he said soberly. “Technically, I’m not supposed to take sides on this because the Coast Guard interfaces with the State Department sometimes.”
“I know, I know.” Abby frowned. “I can’t believe the administration would take Dr. Turner’s stand!”
Alec felt Abby’s frustration. Her eyes flashed with the fire of anger and she slid off the stool, to pace the living room.
“Abby, I have a suggestion,” Tim told her. “Off the record, of course.”
She stopped. “Of course.”
“Well, I think if you continue to keep the whaling issue in the news for another week or two, some major talk shows might be interested in having you come and speak about saving the whales. There’s nothing like the Oprah Winfrey Show to get your message across. To my way of thinking, if repairs go well, the Argonaut will go back out to shadow that Japanese whaling fleet. Only this time, take someone from CNN and news people from the major networks who are willing to go along.” His smile deepened. “If you do, I’ll bet you any amount of money those talk shows will snap you up in a second when you return to Anchorage.”
Abby stood there digesting Tim’s plan. “That’s a great idea.”
“What I can do,” Alec added, “is contact Captain Denisov and ask him if I can remain on board the Argonaut with you during the cruise—as an interested observer,” he added with a slight smile. “And it doesn’t hurt that I’m a navigation officer. I can help you.”
Clasping her hands to her breast, Abby stared at Alec, looking so handsome in his civilian attire. “Would you? I mean, could you?”
“No promises, Abby, but I can try.” Alec turned to Tim. “Would your country have a problem with this plan?”
“I can’t speak for the State Department, but I don’t think they’re going to be able to take a position for or against your joining the Argonaut crew as an observer. After all, this is the period of glasnost, and any way to warm relations should be viewed as a step in the right direction. I’ll check into it for you.” Tim began to jot down notes on his ever-present note pad.
Abby rushed across the living room and threw her arms around Alec. “Thank you,” she whispered in a trembling voice. “You’re so wonderful.”
Stunned by the sudden and unexpected contact with Abby, Alec sat there with his hands resting lightly against her waist. Her eyes had been filled with gratitude. Her skin was velvet soft against his cheek, the fragrance she wore like the scent of spices. A powerful surge of emotion shattered through his chest. As she drew away from him, he smiled up into her azure eyes, which spoke so eloquently for her. “You’re welcome, moya edinstvenaya.”
Chapter Five
“IS MCDONALD’S WHAT you expected?” Abby teased Alec. They sat in a corner booth at noontime, the fast-food restaurant packed with people standing in line to give their lunch orders. Since Alec was in civilian clothes, he had gone unnoticed by most of the crowd. Tim Atkin, in uniform, sat with them and garnered a few curious looks, but nothing more.
“The food is good. Very good,” Alec praised between bites of his Big Mac. He placed a third order of French fries between them on the table. “Please, eat something.”
Abby took one of the cookies from the package that Tim had opened earlier for all of them and nibbled hesitantly. “I’m doing this only in the name of glasnost, Alec.” She glanced at Tim, who sat beside her, happily eating the fries. “Aren’t you even concerned about your heart or cholesterol level?”
Tim shrugged good naturedly. “I’m only twenty-nine, Abby. Healthy as a horse, too. I like this kind of food.”
“You’re both junk-food addicts,” she grumbled with a shake of her head.
“Alec has good reason to eat like there’s no tomorrow,” Tim pointed out. “In the Soviet Union, meat is a scarce food item.”
Alec nodded in agreement, his mouth full. He’d consumed two chocolate milk shakes, two orders or large French fries, and was on his second Big Mac. Looking around, he said, “I don’t think my men will believe me when I tell them of this place.”
“Hey, if you like this place, we ought to take you down the street to Wendy’s,” Tim said enthusiastically. “They’ve got the best chili this side of Texas.”
Abby rolled her eyes. “You two are dangerous together! Tim, show a little restraint, will you? I’m not going to have Alec pigging out on junk food every day he’s here. Tonight, it’ll be a nice seafood dinner at a good restaurant.”
“Long John Silver’s has great seafood.”
“Nice try, Tim, but that’s another fast-food restaurant. If you two want to go there, do it, but I’m not coming with you.”
“They have great coleslaw there,” Tim ventured hopefully, giving her a pleading look and trying to appeal to her vegetarian nature.
With a laugh, Abby shook her head. “I’ll meet you halfway. How about the Red Lobster? They’ve got wonderful seafood and lots of salads.”
Tim stuck out his hand to her. “Deal! You drive a hard bargain, Dr. Fielding.”
“My health is involved, Lieutenant. Is it any wonder I’m sticking to my guns?”
The table broke into companionable laughter. Alec wiped his fingers on the paper napkin after he was finished with his meal. “I don’t remember when I’ve eaten so much.”
Abby grinned at him. “You’d think you were starving to death.” To be honest, Alec was on the thin side. He was medium boned and tall, but could easily stand another ten pounds on his frame.
Alec was starved for more than just meat. He was starved for Abby, too. She wore a short ivory-colored wool jacket over her apricot sweater and jeans. The weather was cooperating with them: cobalt-blue skies laced with cobblestoned clouds. The temperature hovered at forty, but Alec was used to that kind of cold, so it felt relatively warm to him.
Abby saw the glint in Alec’s eyes and knew what he was hungry for. She felt heat rush into her cheeks. Never had she blushed so much in her whole life as when she was around Alec. The way he looked at her with those dark, brooding eyes sent her heart beating erratically. His mouth, she’d decided long ago, was the most wonderful part of him. It was a chiseled mouth with a full, lower lip. When Alec smiled, the serious planes of his face changed dramatically, and the effect literally took her breath away.
Tim glanced at the gold Rolex watch on his wrist. “Time to go, gang. Alec, we’re taking you over to a newspaper office. I’ve got a tour of the facilities set up for you. I thought you’d like to see freedom of the press at work. Ready?”
Alec nodded and rose. He dutifully took all his paper and plastic products and put them into the waste receptacle. Abby was right behind him.
“That’s another thing we Americans have to change about ourselves,” she noted. “Plastic isn’t biodegradable and will sit for hundreds of years without breaking down in a landfill. I have a friend who is an environmental lobbyist working with fast-food restaurants trying to convince them to change from plastic to paper.”
Alec nodded. “That would be a wise idea. Paper will break down quite quickly.”
She shook her head. “Even you can see it, and you’re a foreigner. Why can’t the American people?”
“Because,” Tim said, dumping his trash, “we’ve gotten spoiled by the many social amenitie
s at our disposal.”
“We’re a disposable society, all right,” Abby groused, following them out of the restaurant. To her delight, Alec waited for her to catch up with him, and then they walked side by side down the street. A small amount of snow was piled on the curbs from an unexpected early spring snow storm. The streets had turned slushy with the rise in temperature. Anchorage, in Abby’s eyes, was a beautiful city with some of the cleanest air in the world. The mountains that surrounded the city like a crescent were wreathed in snow, the slopes covered in an emerald forest. There was no place like it on earth, and Abby dearly loved Alaska.
“Still,” Alec told her, “you have much more than the average Soviet citizen. You don’t have to wait in long lines to buy sparse food products. Our people must wait hours at a butcher shop, and then the meat they are able to purchase is tough and stringy.”
“Sounds awful,” Abby said. “On the other hand, America is into instant gratification. They used to call us the ‘Me Generation.’ We have to have it now. Instant food, instant success and instant money in the form of abuse of our credit cards. That’s why fast-food restaurants are such a part of our culture. Everything in this country is speeding up to the point that there’s no time to sit down, relax and take it easy.”
Alec could well believe Abby as they walked down the wet sidewalk. He was amazed at all the cars on the highway. In Moscow, very few ordinary citizens owned cars. His attention was snagged by a huge department-store window display on their left. Everywhere Alec looked as they sauntered down the boulevard were retail outlets.
“You don’t have lines of people waiting to get into this clothing store,” he noted, slowing down and looking at the mannequins in the window display.
Abby halted beside him. “No. Should we?”
“In Moscow, our stores are nearly empty of consumer goods, and what little there is, we must stand in lines to try and buy.” He pointed to the mannequins. There was awe in his voice as he asked, “Are those American jeans?”
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