Her Russian Hero (International Romance Series) (6 page)

The colonel frowned and then
nodded. “There is one within walking distance of your hotel called
‘On the
Szwifloch River’
. It’s an elegant place for tourists, owned by my cousin.
Excellent cuisine. My wife and I dined there for our anniversary.”

“In that case, I hope you and
your wife will be our guests tonight. General, would you honor us with your
presence?”

Cecile glanced at the general,
expecting him to decline after their recent argument. His gaze shifted from
John to her. She boldly focused on his face, trying to convey her annoyance at
his previous doubt of her capability. Their eyes locked. Too many things too
complex for words buzzed between them and then amusement flickered in his eyes.
“Why not? I usually eat alone. I will be happy to meet you at eight o’clock.”

“I will take care of the
reservations,” Nicolai decided. “We will meet no political and military
acquaintances there. Only tourists. My
Generalle
prefers not to attract
attention to his private life.”

The Major General of Belarus was
apparently concerned about his reputation and public image. Why would he waste
time going to dinner with her and John when he’d just proved he didn’t trust
her professional capability? Did he think she’d want him around after he’d
tried to limit her authority? Resentment simmered in her stomach and she cast
him a wary look.

John rubbed his hands. “Then it’s
all set. We’ll have fun tonight.”

“Tania is not here yet. We’ll
drive you back to the hotel,” said Nicolai.

During the drive, the general
weaved colorful tales of Belarus’ history, his baritone voice soothing her into
a more relaxed attitude. Her anger ebbed.

As soon as the Army Jeep stopped
in front of the
Hotel Nievol
, General Fedorin leaped out of the car and
offered his hand to help her out. “I will see you tonight at the restaurant.”
His eyes caressed her face while awareness hummed through her veins. She tugged
at the collar of her raincoat to protect herself from a sudden shiver and
nodded before entering the lobby.

In her room, Cecile slumped into
a chair, sipping her bottled water. The silence bothered her and she turned on
the TV. Sitting alone in her room to watch a Russian program she didn’t
understand held little appeal.

Her rational mind summarized the
incredible complexities of her lucrative contract. Men who didn’t trust her
capabilities. A gallant general who looked like the chivalrous knight of her
teenage dreams. His resentful and cynical, or maybe suffering, father-in-law.
And a pretty driver expert at having men flock around her. All in the same pot.

Would Cecile be the catalyst
stirring this unusual mix into action?

There was already too much heat
spewing from these volcanoes. “I’m not going to let them burn me,” Cecile
swore. “From now on, it’ll be work, only work and nothing but work.”

Comforted by her own resolution,
she lay down on the uncomfortable bed to indulge in a short nap before dinner.

Roussov’s words echoed in her
head like pebbles inside a tin can.

Fedorin is a ruthless
womanizer… Fedorin is not to be trusted…

* * * * *

Cecile slipped on a long woolen
skirt in green and navy plaid, a white silk shirt and green blazer.

Old-fashioned according to Tania
but politically correct for a professional scientist at a business dinner.
Still, she took the time to curl her shoulder-length hair, apply green
eyeliner, and brush on some mascara.

At six-thirty, she joined her
group in the lobby. Tania, acting as guide and interpreter, led them to a
nearby bank. “Change only a small number of dollars at a time,” she advised.
“Inflation going up. Belarusian ruble going down.”

John tugged at Cecile’s sleeve
before she reached the bank. “I hope you don’t mind my inviting the officers on
your behalf.”

She frowned. “Huh?” What was he
talking about?

“As a government employee, I’m on
a strict budget. And the Belarusians can’t afford to invite us, or even pay for
their dinner at an expensive restaurant. You’re the one with the contract. You
can put the bill on your expense account.”

“No problem, John. I’m glad you
invited them. Besides at the rate of exchange, entertaining them won’t cost
much.” She added with a smile. “I still don’t know the customs of this
country.”

“Speaking of customs, let me
handle the bill. This is a private outing. It may irritate their sensitivities
to let a woman pay for dinner.”

“Whatever.” She shrugged, not
ready to make an issue of such a trivial thing, even if it irritated
her
sensitivity as an executive.

Cecile exchanged her money and
they all walked along the river to the nearby restaurant.

Chapter Five

 “John, Cecile, this way.”
Nicolai stood at the restaurant’s door, under a flickering lantern. He seemed
taller and slimmer in a dark, gray suit, his blond hair tamed backward and his
thin mustache shiny. A petite woman with reddish-brown hair huddled close to
him. “Please, meet my wife, Yelena.”

“
Dobroye noyte
,” Yelena
said shyly, “
Niet Engleshkee
.”

“Nice to meet you, Yelena. Don’t
worry about speaking English. Tania or your husband will translate for us,”
Cecile said, wondering if the general had changed his mind about coming to
dinner.

A figure moved out the shadows.
Cecile caught herself staring, hardly recognizing the smashing, businesslike
gentleman, exuding an air of sensual authority and power. A navy suit jacket
draped his splendid shoulders. The white shirt and burgundy tie lent the
perfect background for his tanned face. What a sight. In uniform or civilian
clothes, the man was sinfully attractive.

“Good evening, Dr. Lornier,
John.” The general shook hands with John.

“General.” She held out her hand.
He did not shake it as she expected but instead raised it to his lips. Cecile’s
mouth went dry and heat surged up her neck. Would she ever get used to his
gallant welcome?

The general cupped her elbow and
escorted her inside. “You look beautiful, Cecile,” he whispered close to her ear.

“Thank you, General.” With a
sigh, she lowered her eyelashes. A business meeting? Hmm, she wasn’t so sure
anymore.

The hostess ushered them to a
table in a dimly lit corner. Cecile sat between Sergei and John. The others
settled across from them. Nicolai turned around, scanned the room with a rapid
glance. “I checked the reservation list. There is no one of consequence here
and no journalists.”

Tania translated the items on the
menu.

“I’ve had more than enough vodka
for one day,” John mumbled then ordered the local beer.

Cecile surveyed the elegant
place. A mirrored sphere shimmered with silver glints over the small dance
floor at the end of the room. On a raised podium, a gorgeous singer with long
golden hair sang while swaying to soft piano music played by a tuxedo-clad man.

The drinks came. They clanked
their glasses, mingling the cheers and
Na zdorovie
s.

Cecile struggled to concentrate
on the conversation. Not an easy task with the general sitting so close beside
her.

“It’s a pleasure to have you with
us. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay in Minsk.” The general’s gaze skimmed her
cheeks with a soft caress.

“I’m sure we will.” In spite of
the warmth invading her chest, she managed to keep her tone poised and amiable.
“You welcomed us with incredible hospitality. We appreciate your
kindness.” 

Yelena asked through her husband
if Cecile’s fall on the escalator had left any lasting bruises.

No lasting bruise but it was a
fall Cecile wouldn’t forget as long as she lived. She smiled at Nicolai’s wife.
“Thank you for your concern. The general caught me just in time. I felt better
right away.”

Oh my God
. What had she
said? She hoped no one thought she’d enjoyed being in his arms. Cecile glanced
around furtively. While the others drank and talked, the general’s lips curled
to one side. Another wave of heat spread over her throat.

Dang, there was definitely a
lasting bruise on her senses. Avoiding his penetrating gaze, she took off her
jacket and smoothed her skirt and waited for dinner to be served. She ate
little, chose the potato pancakes, and avoided the greasy meat. With the strong
presence beside her, a different hunger built in the pit of her stomach.
Suddenly thirsty, she gulped her beer and forced herself to participate in the
general conversation.

Nicolai stood and tugged at his
wife’s hand. “Please, excuse us. I want to dance with Yelena. We don’t often
enjoy the luxury of such expensive places.”

John followed suit and pulled
Tania to her feet. “Come on. Let me shake my old legs.”

Cecile remained at her place. She
took a piece of bread and balled it between her fingers. No one had mentioned
dancing as part of this evening. She felt the general’s gaze on her.
No
please.
Don’t ask
. She was here to work. Only to work.

The general stood and extended an
open palm. “May I have the honor?”

Her breath lumped in her throat
but she placed her hand in his and steadied her wobbly knees. He swept her away
from their table toward the dance floor. His arm wrapped around her waist and branded
her with his touch. Blazing heat penetrated through the silk of her blouse.
They mingled with the crowd, gliding around. Cecile floated on a cloud. She was
back in his arms. And not by accident, this time.

At first, they moved slowly to
the music, then he brought her closer and her body recognized with pleasure the
rock-hard chest. He tightened his hold. She almost groaned. Her senses focused
on the taut biceps pressing on her side. “
Crassiva
,” he whispered in her
ear.

“Pardon?”

“You’re so lovely, Cecile.
Crassiva
means pretty.”

“General, please. I’m here on
business.”

“I’m not about to forget it. But
can’t you relax and enjoy the evening, the soft music?”

“I am enjoying myself. Really,
your hospitality is amazing.”

“Our hospitality?” He shook his
head. “Cecile can’t you stop being the Program Manager for a few hours? I’m
trying to talk to you, to the beautiful woman I’m dancing with. Is it an
unforgivable mistake?”

His breath fanned her earlobe.
She had trouble making sense of his words. Was it the result of the morning’s
vodka, the beer she drank a moment ago, or the strong arms holding her pressed
against his muscled chest?

“Tonight we should have fun.
Tomorrow we will work.” He smiled, such a beguiling smile that she sighed. Her
legs turned into jelly and her insides melted into delicious, hot syrup.

“Tomorrow?” she repeated in a
whisper. But tonight...

Tonight she, too, wanted to have
fun, to forget Rob, her project and the many obstacles waiting for her. Her
hand slipped from his shoulder and curled around his neck.

“Yes,” he said. “Tonight we
celebrate, we drink and we dance.” The charm and sultry sexiness in his voice
held her motionless. His finger traced a line along her forehead, circled her
cheek and swept over her lips in a gentle caress. She guessed he expected her
to raise her business flag, to hide behind the contract and their professional
relationship.

For the life of her, Cecile
couldn’t pull back. She wanted to feel—just one more time—the strength of
powerful arms holding her against the shelter of his solid chest. Linking her
fingers around his neck, she leaned against the muscled torso and relaxed,
secure in his embrace.

He whirled around and danced them
to the darkest corner of the dance floor. His lips slid from her temple to her
closed eyelids, brushed her cheek, and rested for a fleeting second achingly
close to her mouth. Her breath caught in her throat as she waited and yearned
for his kiss. But he pressed his cheek on top of her head and held her tightly.
She swallowed a frustrated groan as she listened to the comforting thump of his
heart and hung on his neck, almost forgetting to dance.

After a couple of dances, she
thought she recognized an old piece of music. “Is it by any chance
‘Strangers
in the Night’
?”

“I don’t know the name in English
but it’s your Frank Sinatra’s famous song. Do you like it?”

“Well it’s kind of old.”

“Maybe old but special for us
now. We are still strangers tonight. I’ll sing it for you in Russian.” Cecile
forgot the goal of her trip and the illustrious identity of her companion as he
hummed the classic melody with words she didn’t understand but felt deep in her
heart.

The music stopped for an
intermission returning her to reality. She disentangled herself, and heaved a
deep breath, fighting to tame her racing heartbeat. Sergei led her back to the
table.

While she sipped her beer her
mind vaguely registered the boring conversation. The high pitched sound of
Tania’s laughter pierced the din. In fact, Cecile was becoming quite annoyed with
the pretty chauffeur and her manners. Tania giggled and flirted, smiling at
John. Stimulated by too much alcohol and Tania’s lovely face, John alternated
seductive efforts and off-color jokes.

Cecile frowned. In her book,
Gordon, a married man, should not indulge in flirting. To put things back into
perspective and remind him of his better half, she narrowed her eyes. “Have you
been able to e-mail your wife?”

“I need to buy an adapter to
access the internet,” he grumbled. “Tomorrow morning, Tania and I will go
shopping. We’ll buy the adapters and electric heaters for our rooms. Do you
need one?”

“Definitely. I’d appreciate both
a heater and an adapter.” Cecile tamped down on her personal opinion. She
shouldn’t interfere in his social life. John had the right to go shopping with
his driver.