Her Russian Hero (International Romance Series) (2 page)

Rooted in place, Cecile stared
blankly at his departing back. The general touched her arm. Awareness shot up
to her throat as he invaded her breathing space. Her chin tilted up a notch.
“Yes?”

“Dr. Lornier, I must leave now.
Roussov will take care of the formalities.”

“General Fedorin, the colonel
asked me an odd question. Were you expecting two Program Managers?”

“No, of course not.” His
penetrating eyes fastened on hers for an alarming moment, then he quickly
added, “The opening meeting of our contract is scheduled for tomorrow at
eleven, at the Hall of Officers.”

A disturbing knot formed in
Cecile’s stomach. Why hadn’t the general bothered to explain the colonel’s
confusion? Was anything wrong?

Her gaze trailed over the thin
lines bracketing the general’s lips, moved up the high-boned cheeks and tracked
the midnight sparks in his eyes. His strong jaw and the small scar on his cleft
chin conferred a somber expression to his attractive face. A charming man but a
mighty officer.

Power and dynamite, she thought
on a blink. Definitely not an easygoing customer she could intimidate with
starchy speech.

“We’ll be there at eleven sharp,
General.” John’s jovial voice intruded into her secret contemplation.


Kharasho
, very good. Then
I will see you tomorrow, John, Dr. Lornier.” The general shook hands with John,
then raised her hand to his lips and brushed it with a kiss.

Her professional mask melted into
a genuine smile. Did he always spice business with old-European, grand manners?
She eased her hand out of the general’s palm and blurted the first serious
thought that came to mind. “I can’t wait to visit the Belchem Lab.”

“We will go to the laboratory
after the meeting. Meanwhile, we will make every effort to ensure your
comfort.”

His velvety voice sent a shiver
down her spine but she forced a businesslike tone. “Thank you, General. We have
a lot to discuss about the contract and the lab refurbishment.”

“Yes, we do.” His gaze skimmed
her face like a gentle caress, launching her heart on a much bigger roller
coaster ride than the broken escalator. “Have a good evening, Dr. Lornier.”

For years, she had thrived on
challenge in her analytical laboratory. Maybe now the real adventure had begun,
with more chemistry than she’d bargained for.

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 “I am sorry it took so
long. Here are your customs declaration forms.” Roussov handed Cecile and John
their passports and a couple of papers written in Russian. “There are no
computers yet at the airport. The clerk had to enter all the information by
hand before stamping your passports.”

“No problem, Colonel. Now, I have
to locate the rest of my luggage.” Cecile surveyed her surroundings for a
baggage claim area where she could collect her two valuable suitcases.

One contained a heavy wool
blanket, indispensable when traveling to Belarus at the end of October,
according to John. The other suitcase was filled with leather folders stamped
with her company logo. Her boss, always proficient at promoting EnviroAnalytical
Laboratory, had appeared at her doorstep two hours before she left to the
airport. He’d insisted she carried the public relations items to be distributed
to Belarusian officers and laboratory staff—preferably in front of John Gordon,
the Contract Director who could provide EAL with more lucrative projects.

“Our only conveyor belt is a
little slow.” Roussov pointed to a hidden corner of the hall where a row of
suitcases jolted on a partially rusty set of rollers. He gave a few orders. Two
employees rushed to carry Cecile’s luggage while glancing at her with
deferential attention.

Unease crept up her neck. Was it
Roussov’s presence at her side that attracted interest? Did she look out of
place in a pantsuit and raincoat, with no heavy coat or fur hat? With a sigh of
relief, Cecile left the depressing gray hall where people eyed her with
curiosity.

As she stepped out of the
airport, the bitter cold needled her face and she shivered. The wind, heavy
with moisture, whipped her hair and plastered strands of it against her cheeks.
She buttoned her raincoat and raised the collar high over her turtleneck.

A vivacious young woman climbed
down from a rental van waiting at the curb and rushed toward them. “This is
Tania, our driver and interpreter. I specifically requested her from the rental
car agency.” John hugged the young woman.

With her suede miniskirt, brown
leather jacket and thigh-high boots, she was the hippest female chauffeur
Cecile had ever seen. A beige cap, tilted at a cocky angle over her forehead,
completed her driver’s uniform.

Tania greeted them with a smile
that could revive a dead body. “
Dobroye
pajalavat
, Madame, Mr.
Gordon. Welcome to Belarus.”

“Nice to meet you,” Cecile said,
smiling back.

They managed to stuff all their
suitcases into the van. Once Cecile and John were seated inside, their driver
followed Roussov’s military Jeep out of the airport. The highway extended
before them, vast, bumpy and almost deserted. Cecile gazed out of the window at
the unfolding scenery, a horizon of dark forests with tall, leafless trees.

As the van approached an
inspection gate, a police officer stepped out of a kiosk on the side of the
road and waved his gloved hand. Tania slammed on the brakes. The old VW burped
and then came to an abrupt halt, hurling Cecile forward. Her palms flattened
against the dashboard.

“Police,” Tania mumbled.

Cecile maintained a blank
expression while the policeman threw a suspicious look inside the van. Colonel
Roussov jumped out of his Jeep and yelled at the man who immediately saluted
and signaled for them to move. When the colonel approached her side of the car,
Cecile lowered her window.

“Dr. Lornier, I apologize for the
inconvenience. It will not happen again.” Roussov turned toward Tania and
ordered, “Proceed.”

The van moved away. “Many
policemen patrol the streets. Always inspecting,” Tania explained. “But of
course, this policeman was scared when he saw Colonel Roussov.”

Cecile frowned. “Why would he be scared
of the colonel? Roussov seems like a decent man. He’s doing his best to please
us.”

“Everybody is scared of Colonel
Roussov. He was the head of the Belarusian KGB. There is no KGB anymore.” Tania
shrugged. “They call it National Security now.”

“But it’s different,” John
interjected.

“No, it’s not.” She snorted. “Why
do you think Colonel Roussov came to receive you at the airport? You are
important foreigners. He had to check you personally.”

“Thanks for reassuring us,”
Cecile muttered wryly.

Tania’s laughter chimed like a
crystal bell. She wagged a well-manicured finger. “I think you passed his
test.”

“Really? I’m wondering…” Cecile
turned her head toward the back of the car. “Hey, John, I saw you cracking up
earlier when Roussov had trouble pronouncing my name. What’s going on?”

A sudden bout of laughter
overcame John, bouncing his impressive belly.

“Come on, John, share with me. I
could use a little morale boost right now.”

John rumpled his frizzy hair and
controlled his hilarity. “Until your arrival, the Belarusians thought that Dr.
Lornier was a man. They misspelled your name on the contract.”

“I noticed they wrote Cecile
without the E. So?”

He shook his head, his eyebrows
quirked. “You see, they aren’t used to working with executive women. They even
prepared male entertainment for your pleasure. The gentlemen’s club, the
whipping massage…hmm…”

“Whipping mass… You’ve got to be
kidding me.” She shook her head in disbelief.

“It’s just a way to entertain
clients in Belarus. There’s no golf here.”

Cecile pinched her mouth shut.
Talk about unprofessional behavior. Well, she was not a male Program Manager
and she didn’t do whipping massage. “That explains why Roussov gawked at me.
Why didn’t you clarify things during your previous trip?”

“And miss the fun? No way.”

Dismayed, Cecile stared at him.
Selfish
oaf
.

He cleared his throat. “Hmm, you
wouldn’t understand. Nothing exciting ever happens in my boring office at the
CDDD.”

Typical John. Cecile knew better
than to judge him on appearances. He had come on this trip specifically to
audit her work and report her daily progress to the CDDD.

With a shrug, she dismissed the
subject. “Now that I’ve met them, the officers will forget the
misunderstanding.” God, she was so tired, physically and mentally. She couldn’t
wait to lie down.

John grumbled. “It may not be
that easy.”

So far, nothing had been easy
with her contract. She had fought to get it and then fought to keep it. She was
capable of playing hardball to manage the project.

“It’s not the first time I’ve
installed a lab and trained chemists. I’m good at it. The Belarusians signed
the agreement. They’ll have to accept me. Even if they’re not used to working
with executive women.”

She could imagine Rob’s smirk if
she returned to Boston without fulfilling every codicil of the contract. His
voice still grated in her ears.
Forget it, honey. Too far over your head
.

“I will succeed,” she vowed, her
pulse accelerating as her gaze swayed to her hand and fixed on the very spot
the general’s lips had warmed. Friend or foe?

“We’re going into the city now,”
Tania announced as they left the countryside and entered the outskirts of
Minsk. The car steered from the highway to a broad avenue. The traffic grew and
the streets swarmed with a colorful mix of civilians and militaries.

Cecile blinked, perplexed by the
number of uniformed men strolling down the sidewalks. Banners extended across
the width of the avenue and a cluster of people hid from the wind under a
plastic shelter.

Tania lowered the driver-side
window, allowing an alcohol smell to waft into the vehicle. “Few Belarusians
own cars. The bus stations are always crowded. You often see people eating
sandwiches or drinking vodka while waiting.” A moment later, the van stopped in
front of a modern high-rise. “This is Hotel Nievol and down there, Szwifloch
River.”

Roussov dashed out of his Jeep to
open the van door for Cecile. “It is our most luxurious hotel. I hope you will
be comfortable here. Have a good evening, Dr. Lornier, Mr. Gordon.”

In the lobby, Cecile stroked her
gloved hands over her icy cheeks. Would it ever get warm in this country? The
marble floor, dimly lit chandelier and old furniture created a dark ambiance,
even at three o’clock in the afternoon.

After taking care of their
reservations, John said, “Cecile, I’ll see you at six-thirty in the lobby.
We’ll have dinner at the second floor restaurant. Tania, we’d like you to join
us.”

Tania nodded. “I will wait here.”
She raised a questioning gaze toward Cecile. “Unless…Dr. Lornier would like me
to help her unpack?”

“Yes, please,” Cecile hastened to
reply. She wouldn’t leave Tania waiting alone in the cold lobby.

They juggled her luggage into a
narrow elevator, stopped at the fourteenth floor, and dragged the suitcases
along the corridor. With Tania’s help, Cecile managed to open the door of her
room with the oversized brass key.  

A crisp chill seeped through the
thin gaps of the window frame and the room felt as cold as the North Pole.
Freezing, Cecile rubbed her hands.

Tania gave her an apologetic
smile. “I’m sorry, there is no heating. Our government allows heating only in
the winter months, from November first to April thirtieth. But maybe I can do
something.” She tucked a pillow against the windowsill for insulation, then pulled
a wool blanket and bedspread from one of the twin beds and piled them on top of
the other bed, building a warm cocoon. “This way you’ll feel warm tonight.”

Cecile went to inspect the
bathroom. Nice, quite elegant with green tiles. Hmm, the toilet paper was
brownish and looked like sandpaper. She touched it. Darn, it felt like
sandpaper. She checked the faucets and shower. Thank heaven, they delivered hot
water.

“Mr. Gordon mentioned you fell at
the airport. How are you feeling now?” Tania asked.

“Much better, thank you. But my
back is still sore.”

“You were so lucky. I wouldn’t
mind falling into the arms of our Major
Generalle
.” Tania giggled. “He
is
sooo
gorgeous. Every woman in Minsk is a little bit in love with him.
He is our big hero.”

“His wife doesn’t mind?” She
fumbled with the lock of a suitcase, waiting for Tania’s answer.

“He’s been a widower for some
time. They never had children.”

Cecile released the breath she’d
been holding. “I see.” She opened her luggage and organized her bottles of
water in the refrigerator.

“You brought only dark suits, Dr.
Lornier?” Tania asked as she hung the severe attire.

“They’re suitable for meetings
and conferences.”

The girl gaped at her. “What are
you wearing in the evening? After work?”

“I’m here only to work.” She had
come to Minsk to set up a laboratory and fulfill a contract, not to go out and
waste time. At least, that was her plan, the plan she’d carefully devised while
sitting for long hours in the plane. So why was she glaring at her outdated
wardrobe?

“Just work?” Tania’s lips drooped
in a grimace. “Maybe I can take you shopping?”

“I doubt I’ll have time for
shopping.” On second thought, she could make time if the General…  
Forget
it. Remember the mess with Rob
. Never again would she muddle business with
personal fun.
You’re here to work, work, work
. “How do you say ‘work’ in
Russian?” She should learn the useful word.

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