by Risk, Mona
Closing her eyes, she wrapped her legs around him and squeezed her muscles to feel him better.
“Look at me, daragaya. Loubloum yavas. My darling, I love you.” His gaze dark with passion captured hers.
“I love you.” She inhaled his clean masculine scent and her breath stilled in her throat.
He covered her mouth with a sizzling kiss and increased the tempo of his thrusts, piling sensation over sensation. Ripples of pleasure washed over her and she cried in ecstasy. He gathered her closer, fusing her to his taut body. She felt him tremble and convulse as thousands of stars glittered in her brain and her world shattered in his arms.
She came back to Earth, languidly, hearing his heart pulsing against her chest and the train motion slowing down. Sergei kissed her with a tenderness and gentleness that melted her heart. “I love you, my Cecilya,” he whispered against her hair.
Her lips glued to his skin, she inhaled the scent of his aftershave. She squeezed him against her wanting to imprint every one of his muscles on her soft flesh.
The train stopped. Sergei edged away and peered through the shade of the window. “We better get dressed. Soon, the inspector will knock to check the tickets.”
He kissed her on the nose. “You don’t need the heavy sweater now. Just slip on the blouse and pants. We still have five hours. As soon as the train leaves, we will take a nap.” He pulled his clothes on while she did the same.
Someone knocked. Sergei slid the door slightly open and handed the two tickets to be checked. She heard Spacibo bolshoye and the door slid back in place. He bolted it and came to sit next to her.
She chuckled. “You hardly opened the door. All he could see was your hand.”
“I prefer not to be recognized with you in my compartment.” A momentary shadow wiped the smile from his face. “You have refused to be my wife, but you don’t mind being my mistress.”
She gasped. “Sergei, you make it sound…cheap. I love you and I can’t stay away from you. But a marriage between us would raise too much controversy—you know that better than I do.”
He cradled her face in his hands. “Cecilya, I love you and I want to marry you. You are beautiful and generous, intelligent, strong and honest. I trust you more than I ever trusted anyone. I know you would embrace my cause and never betray me.” He wrapped her in his arms and pressed his cheek against hers. “I worry about you. My former father-in-law is trying to destroy me. He would not hesitate to hurt you too. I am glad you avoided him and did not obtain the customs permit for the equipment through him.”
She felt the blood drain from her face. She hadn’t told him the whole truth. How could she explain her dinner with Roussov? Sergei would never understand. Something seemed to claw at her chest. She swallowed hard.
Sergei kissed her forehead, then inched away and scowled. “What’s wrong? You look pale and anxious.”
She stiffened in his arms, not knowing what to say. “I…It’s about Roussov.”
“What about him?” He eyed her intently, his hands still holding her face. “Did he talk to you?”
“He came to see me at the hotel before I left for Boston.”
“What does he want from you? Why didn’t you tell me before?”
The questions hammered her, each one hitting a full blow. For the first time since she met him, the authoritative commanding edge he used with his officers wiped away the gallant tone he reserved for her.
“He said it was a simple courtesy visit.”
Sergei dropped his hands and sneered. “And you believed him?”
“Of course not.”
“What else did he say? Did he ask you questions about us?”
“No, he didn’t ask any question about you or about us. Although I had the feeling that he suspects something. He insisted I would soon need him to get the permit. That night he invited me for dinner and I refused.”
It was the strict truth about that specific night. The tenseness of his features relaxed. He caressed her hair gently. “I am sorry, my love. I have been rude with my questions. The thought of this man coming close to you repulses me so much. I am glad you turned him down.”
He smiled and brushed her lips back and forth with a finger. “I appreciate this pretty mouth telling me the complete truth. I value honesty above all else. You should have told me the story right away.”
“Sergei, hearing about Roussov upsets you so much. I don’t want to add to your burden.”
His eyes widened. “I am a soldier by training and a general now and you are trying to protect me? I swear this is the sweetest thing I ever heard. Please, humor my manly capability and let me be the protector.” He kissed her soundly on the lips.
She hadn’t told him the rest of her story, the dinner with Roussov, the picture taken, his icy farewell. If she did now, it would spoil their relationship. She would wait until after the lab was inaugurated and the contract finished. By then she would have to return to Boston anyway.
Damn Roussov, he had almost spoiled their train ride and the beautiful interlude in Sergei’s arms. “I’m going to take a nap,” she said without looking at him.
“Good idea. We will have a long day tomorrow. Come lie down in my arms.”
He yanked off his shirt and pants and stretched on the couchette. She followed his example and snuggled against him under the cover, enjoying the strong arms enfolding her and the hard frame pressing against her. His breath fanned away the image of their nemesis. She reached to kiss his lips. He chuckled. “Are you sure you want to sleep?”
“Yes, yes. I was saying good night.”
His happy laughter filled the compartment. “Why don’t we wish each other a thorough goodnight?” His hands roamed all over her body and his tongue probed her mouth. “I am wide-awake and I love you so much.”
She was wide-awake and enjoying every second of their lovemaking. He invaded her intimate softness. They shuddered together, collapsed and clung to each other.
* * * * *
Sergei was propelled right out of his slumber by the chugging of the train and its complete stop. He eased out of Cecile’s arms and donned his clothes. He bent to kiss her. “Cecilya, we’ve arrived. I’ll help you.”
In less than two minutes, she was dressed and wrapped up in her coat, scarf and chapka. Sergei grabbed the big bag containing the dirty boxes and plates and handed her the vase still enveloped in its plastic wrap. Holding her hand, he strolled along the corridor and stepped onto the platform where only four people scrambled into the pre-dawn darkness toward the exit door.
As he thought about his mother, living here alone for so many years, a strong emotion tightened and clogged his throat. He hadn’t been back for two years. It had been easier for her to come to visit and stay with the Nicouvitch family. Three months ago, she started complaining about pain in the abdomen. But she’d told him not to worry. She would be fine soon.
He paused on the sidewalk to reorient himself. Without loosening his grip on Cecile’s hand, he scurried along the narrow road covered with muddy ice.
Lost in their thoughts, they walked in silence until they reached the edge of the village. “It’s the third house on the left. Nothing fancy as you can see.” His voice sounded strangely guttural to his own ears.
He knocked on the door of the small house and threw a lopsided glance at Cecile, wondering about her reaction. Would she be shocked or repulsed by the humble place? She had refused to marry him. Maybe now she would stop seeing him.
Sergei hunched his big frame ready to enter through the door. “As you see, it is small and poor and…”
“Sergei, this is your mother’s house. I didn’t come to judge or be impressed. I came to meet her. I don’t care about the house.” Cecile leveled a serious look at him, showing him she resented being cast as a snob.
A middle-aged woman opened the door. Her eyes rounded in recognition. She threw her arms around Sergei’s neck and kissed him on both cheeks while talking volubly.
“Cecile, this is
Olga, the neighbor’s daughter and a distant relative. We used to play together when we were small. She helps take care of my mother. She doesn’t speak English. My mother is resting in her room. Can you wait here, please?” He showed her to a chair.
“Don’t worry about me. Please, give her the flowers.” She handed him the vase and settled in the chair.
He tiptoed into the room. The wooden floor creaked as he approached the big bed where his mother’s pale face rested on upraised pillows. She opened her sunken eyes. He bent over her to kiss the hollow cheek. “Mamoushka, it’s me. I came as soon as I received your message.”
She raised a trembling hand and touched his face “Sergei, you are here,” she said, her voice a whimpering cry.
“What happened, Mama, you were so healthy three months ago?” He gently rubbed her hand and kissed it.
“The doctor said it is a cancer of the liver. I didn’t want to worry you. I was still on my feet a few days ago…but now…” She panted and closed her eyes. “I had to see you before I go.”
He sobered up. Cancer was taking away all the people he loved.
“Don’t be upset, Sergei. My time has come. I am ready. If I could only see you happily married, with a good woman to take care of you.”
“Wait a minute, Mamoushka. I will bring her.”
He stepped out of the room and went to crouch in front of Cecile’s chair. “Come. My mother and I speak in Russian but she knows English. Speak slowly. And please, I beg you, do not contradict her. These are probably her last moments. I want her to go in peace.”
Cecile nodded. He tugged at her hand and walked her to his mother’s side.
“Mamoushka, this is Cecilya, the woman I love,” he said in English, uttering every word slowly. “We will be married soon. I want you to make an effort to live and attend our wedding.” He saw Cecile stiffen and he squeezed her hand.
His mother turned her face with effort and smiled. “Cecilya, I am happy to meet you. Sergei, put the light on. I want to see my new daughter.” He tightened his grip on Cecile’s hand, then left her to switch on the light.
She threw him an odd look and bent over the old woman. “Mamoushka, I love your son. I’ll do everything in my power to make him happy.”
He came close to her and wrapped an arm around her back. Knowing his mother would enjoy seeing his display of affection, he turned Cecile’s face toward him and kissed her lips. As expected, his mother giggled weakly. “Oh Sergei, this is wonderful.”
“It is our tradition to kiss an older person’s hand,” he whispered in Cecile’s ear. “Would you please make an extra effort?”
Her eyebrow arched in protest. “This is not an effort.”
She knelt next to the bed. Her lips touched the emaciated hand lying on the cover. “Mamoushka, you have a wonderful son. I don’t think I’ll be able to live without him.” She kissed his mother on both cheeks.
The note of sincerity in Cecile’s voice rang true. He came to kneel beside her. The old woman’s face wrinkled with pain. Her breathing sounded labored and ragged. They hardly heard her feeble voice. “Sergei…Cecilya…happy…thank you.”
Her eyes closed. Sergei bent over her hand and kissed it one last time. It was limp. He stood up and stared at the woman who’d raised him with love and taught him the meaning of honor and duty.
He looked at Cecile. Her eyes were wet with tears. He held her hand and led her out of the room. “Thank you. You gave her a last joy, Cecile. I will never forget it.” His old Mamoushka had met Cecile and blessed her as Sergei’s future wife and then died happy.
* * * * *
For the past twenty-four hours, Cecile had put her daily routine on hold and acted as Sergei’s bride. It was a landmark in her life.
They buried Sergei’s mother the same day. A dozen people from the village attended. For them Sergei was only Natalia Fedorin’s boy, the good son from the city who came back with his bride to attend his mother’s last moments. At the cemetery, the villagers kissed them on both cheeks and went their on their way. Sergei lingered for another hour to settle a few things.
They took the overnight train and ordered dinner to be brought to their compartment. He sat next to her on the bench and peered into her eyes. “Cecile, why did you tell my mother you couldn’t live without me?”
He was a man of duty, an officer with honor. Cecile’s heart filled with love. She didn’t have the right to take him away from his mission but she couldn’t let him go. Suddenly, her ambition and career shrank to minimal importance.
Choose, Cecile. The straight boring path as Laboratory Director and Program Manager, or the love of her hero and nights of passion in his arms? You can’t have it all.
She’d already tasted the dry glory, sterile honor and vain congratulations on a job well done.
I want to be loved. I want to love this hero.
She let him see deep into her soul where sweet and sour feelings mingled. “Because it’s the truth. I wouldn’t lie to a dying woman.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And how do you plan to accomplish that, if I may ask?”
“I don’t know yet.” She sighed and tried to turn her head away. His palm cradled her cheek forcing her to face him. Her gaze captured by the deep blue eyes staring at her, she sighed. “I’m not opposed anymore to staying in Minsk. Just give me time to think about it. Tomorrow we will resume our normal routine. I want you to know, it will never be the same for me.”
A gleam of love glittered in his eyes. “Before we arrive, I would like you back in my arms where you belong.” He kissed her, a soft and light kiss that turned hard and demanding.
The train sped on, taking them back to their hectic lives and stressful duties.
Chapter Nineteen
John Gordon and Paul Miller each hidden behind a copy of USA Today dropped their newspapers to welcome Cecile at the breakfast table.
The Contract Director, who never saw far beyond his nose, greeted her with his jovial smile. “Well, well, you look radiant, my dear. Your day of rest has done wonders for you. I’d never believe someone could sleep for twenty-four hours but apparently you did. And it helped.”
Paul focused his gaze on her eyes and smiled ironically. “I’m sure Cecile must have basked in beautiful dreams, forgetting the contract and her staff.” He readjusted his gold-rimmed glasses on his nose. “John is right. You’re glowing with…rest.”
As usual it was better to ignore Paul’s remarks before they became too specific. Cecile changed the subject. “I read your e-mails. Our chemists have arrived safe and sound.”
“I expect them to join us for breakfast as soon as they wake up,” Paul assured her. “Nicolai will come to pick us up. We can’t all fit in Tania’s van. Later on, she’ll pick up Rob who’s arriving today.”
“Already? He didn’t waste any time.”
“He said he was eager to help.”
Cecile shrugged. She didn’t mind Rob’s help now since it was for a good cause. To enhance Sergei’s mission and the cleanup.
“Here’s the good colonel.” John extended a hand and gripped Nicolai’s.
“Dobroye outroh, good morning, Cecile, gentlemen. Before I drive you to the lab I would like to stop at the Ministry of Defense and check on my general. Nobody has seen him in the last twenty-four hours.” He surreptitiously glanced at Cecile.
“Amazing. Cecile also was out of reach yesterday.” John chose the wrong moment to add his two cents. “Could you believe she slept the whole day?”
Both Paul and Nicolai raised their eyebrows in unison and mumbled a dubious, “Oh.”
Cecile poured herself a cup of coffee and ignored them. The boisterous arrival of her chemists distracted Paul Miller and saved her from his inquisitive comments. The chemists, all talking at the same time, treated her to a full report of their previous night’s travel.
“The flight was smooth without delay.”
“Seeing Paul and Jeffrey at the airport has greatly relieved my nervous tension.”<
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“The colonel was so nice.”
“Tania has promised to introduce me to one of her girlfriends.”
“I want to meet one of the handsome officers we saw in the video you showed us in Boston.”
Cecile exhaled loudly. “I’m glad you had a good trip and are ready to work. I don’t know what Jeffrey told you, but Minsk is not a dating agency. We’re here to work.”
Paul’s lips stretched into an ironic smile. “I hear you, boss.”
If only she could erase that smirk from his face. Nicolai glanced at his watch. “I can take three of you in my car. The others will go to the lab with Tania and Jeffrey.”
John pulled himself out of his chair. “I’m coming with you. I need to discuss with the general the inauguration of the lab.”
Paul jumped to his feet. “Now that we have a large group of chemists, I can assure you that things will proceed fast. Are you coming, Cecile?”
“Of course, if you’re going to discuss the inauguration, I’d better be present.” She turned toward the chemists. “We’ll join you later at Belchem.”
They waited in the military Jeep in front of the red brick building of the Ministry of Defense. The colonel quickly emerged with his commanding officer. “Dobroye outroh, my friends. I am sorry I cannot invite you in. Foreigners are not allowed in a Ministry building. Let’s go to my office in the Hall of Officers. We need to discuss the inauguration of the lab.”
Sergei placed a chair next to his for Cecile and settled behind his desk across from the three men.
“Before we start our discussion, I will order some coffee and tea for all of us.” He spoke in Russian in the telephone, then folded his hands on the desk and said, “Yesterday was a very hard day for me.”
All the heads snapped to attention. “I received a message from my mother asking me to come. After a long trip, I arrived just in time to see her. She died yesterday morning and we buried her the same day. I came back by train in the evening.”