Her Russian Hero (International Romance Series) (34 page)

Sergei spent a couple of hours in
his office at the Hall of Officers. He cleared his desk and filled another bag
with three bottles of vodka and his few items of memorabilia. He stood in the
office and stared at the rug. It was here that he’d proposed to her. He should
have listened to Nicouvitch’s warning not to get involved with a foreign woman.

Sergei strolled to the Red Hall
and surveyed the huge room, the place where he’d often headed special meetings.
He strutted to the big seal adorning the end wall and saluted the flag. They
could take away his uniform but in his heart, he was still an officer of
Belarus.

With two plastic bags dangling
from his hands, Sergei marched out of the Hall of Officers for the last time.
As usual, the military Jeep waited for him. He asked the driver to drop him at
the bazaar. Some domestic tasks would help him steer away from the drama that
had invaded his mind and obstructed his life.

Chapter Twenty-six

As soon as the elevator door slid
open on the seventh floor of his building, an incongruous smell hit him. His
nostrils flared and he inhaled. Chocolate. A chocolate cake. It had been a long
time since the cranky old neighbor had baked anything worth smelling or even
tasting.

Sergei turned the key in the lock
and frowned. The delicious aroma emanated from his own apartment. He entered
and flicked the light on. Stunned, he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight
of a vase of roses adorning the table, set with his tablecloth, his china and
his glasses.

Dropping his bags on the floor,
he strode to the kitchen and sniffed. The chocolate cake sat on the counter.
The stove was switched off but two covered pots stirred a grumbling in his
stomach and fury in his heart.

God, Cecile had been here, making
herself at home in his own kitchen, playing mistress of the house. She still
had his key. He would ask Nicolai to retrieve it.

Sergei walked back to the living
room debating whether he was going to eat the meal she had prepared or snub it.
But his stomach wouldn’t allow him to dispose of such a treat. He deposited his
groceries in the kitchen and carried the other bags to his bedroom. As he
stepped in the room, his jaw sagged and he stared blankly.

Right in the middle of his bed, a
lovely siren in a pink lace gown slept as peacefully as an innocent child—his
far-from-innocent, treacherous, scheming ex-fiancée.

Her naked arms stretched under
the pillows revealing alabaster-white shoulders crossed by thin straps.
Sergei’s gaze followed the pink ribbons, each ending on a creamy mound and the
deep V-neck plunging to the valley between.

Depositing his bags on the floor
as quietly as possible, he knelt beside the bed, his throat as dried as old
parchment. He wet his lips, feeling dizzy from her perfume and the sight of
her. He should strangle her, hurt her, make her pay for his loss and his
suffering. His breath coming in labored and ragged gasps, he bent over her
face, then hesitated.

She was so beautiful. Would he
ever be able to forget her?

His hand reached the golden
strand shielding her cheek and lifted it away. Hard as a rock, unable to think,
he felt inexorably drawn to her. His lips paused a mere inch away from hers.
How could he still love her so much? After all she had put him through?

He would kiss her one last time,
a farewell kiss, then push her out of his heart forever.

She sighed and stirred. Her lips
collided with his. He captured them and crushed them with hunger and thirst,
with rage and fury, with passion and love. Her arms looped around his neck and
enchained him. He raised himself and flattened her with his body.

His gorgeous and dazzling
Cecilya.

With a groan of remorse, he
admitted he loved her even more than he had loved his dead wife. He needed to
have her, to melt into her heat and fuse with her loveliness. Reason deserted
him. Passion fired his blood.

Just one more time.

He lowered the straps and exposed
her satiny flesh to his roaming hands. He fondled and kissed and lavished her
with passion. His mouth clung to a nipple. Her moan chimed in his mind like a
victory trumpet announcing she was his again.

He reached in his night-table
drawer for protection then jerked her nightgown down her legs. With the same
eagerness and without a word, she undressed him and they clung to each other, kissing
and stroking and gasping for air. He pulled himself above her then slid into
her blazing wetness as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“I love you, Sergei. I love you,”
she whispered against his skin.

Unable to withstand another
second of sweet torture, he thrust deep into her. She clutched his shoulders,
her nails digging into his skin. As he pulled her harder against him, he felt
her convulsing and his world exploded.

* * * * *

Spent and satiated, Cecile
snuggled against his hard frame, unwilling to move. Her palm spread on his back
to keep him welded to her body. He raised his head and stared at her, his eyes
mirroring the same passion, the same longing she felt.

Without moving, he grumbled,
“This was a mistake. You have to go.”

“I’m staying. And I’ll never let
you go. Never, Sergei.”

“We belong to different worlds,
different mentalities. It was wrong all along.”

Cecile shook her head. “No. We
belong together, in Minsk, in Boston, or anywhere else. Sergei, I never
betrayed you. I swear. I never did. I was tricked as much as you were.” Tears
filled her eyes as she willed him to believe her.

“You never trusted me. I was the
Major
Generalle
. You should have asked for my help and I would have forced
Roussov to sign the permit.” His lips compressed in a bitter line.

“Nicolai told me to request your
help. John insisted I go to the U.S. Ambassador. I refused. I had to get this
equipment installed on my own. I was the Program Manager. A female PM,
patronized by the macho guys. I had to do my job. On my own. Or I would have
lost my position at EAL.”

“And now, are you happy you
proved yourself?” he asked, his burning gaze boring through her.

“No. I wish I hadn’t. The price
was too high.”

“I lost so much, Cecile.”

She buried her head in his neck
and cried. “Yes. You lost your career, your mission and your dream because of
me.”

He caressed her hair in a
soothing motion. “No. Not because of you. Because of my damned father-in-law.”

She cradled his cheeks between
her hands. “I can’t let you go, Sergei. I can’t. You see, I have no pride
anymore,” she mumbled between sobs.

He comforted her with a smile. “A
PM should not cry.”

“I’m not a Program Manager
anymore. I’m a woman in love.”

“Please, don’t cry. We’ve hurt
each other enough,” he said, wrapping her in his arms.

“You lost a lot…but I am ready to
give up my career, my freedom, my country. For you. Willingly.”

“Cecilya, you are all I have left
to love and to hold in this world. But…” He struggled with his emotions.

“But what?”

“I have nothing to offer, my
love. No job, no money, no future.”

Cecile jolted her head up, a
dazzling smile gleaming on her face. “I want you. Just you.”

He gazed at her. She was so
beautiful, naked in his arms, pleading for his love. Could they still be happy
together? He sucked in a deep breath. For her, he would start again. Wherever
she wanted. With Cecilya at his side, he could see a new future, beautiful
moments.

His lips clung to hers in a
passionate kiss and his tongue plundered the recess of her mouth.

Cecile relaxed against him. He
hadn’t spoken the words she wanted to hear but it didn’t matter anymore. She
knew he still loved her.

His stomach grumbled. She
laughed. “Your big body needs sustenance. Come let’s eat. I’ve cooked and
baked.”

“I smelled it from the elevator.”
He stood, tugging at her hand. His eyes narrowed. “Don’t think you can seduce
me with a frilly nightgown and a good meal. We still have to talk.”

She glanced at him. He was
smiling. She threw her arms around his neck and raised her head to kiss him.
But he pulled back and cupped her chin, challenging her. “I have already asked
you to marry me. Twice. I won’t do it again.”

“You’re right. It’s my turn to
propose.” She kneeled on the bed beside him. As his gaze trailed over her
breasts, she draped the sheet around her shoulders to shield herself from his
scorching heat. She took his hand and pressed it against her cheek. “Major
General Sergei Fedorin, my hero, my love, would you like to come with me
tomorrow to the American Embassy? Would you marry me and file an entry visa
application for the U.S.?”

He closed his eyes, squeezing her
against him. “I will marry you, Cecilya. And I will file the application. But
leaving Belarus will be hard. I made a pledge and I didn’t keep it.”

She didn’t doubt he’d forgiven
her. But he’d never be able to forget. His unfulfilled promise to Sofya would
make her staunch officer sway between the present and the past, between
happiness and remorse. And deep in his heart he’d probably hold her responsible.
She wanted a clean break from the past and had already taken the right step.

“Sergei, there’s something I have
to tell you. Before coming here, I had a private talk with Rob.”

He jolted back and released her.
“You ask me to marry you. Then you confess you met privately with your
ex-fiancé?” He crossed his arms on his chest, frowning.

“Hold it, darling. Don’t go
jumping on your big horse. Rob is crazy about Tania and wants to marry her. He
said, at least Tania doesn’t compete with him. She doesn’t question his every
word. Apparently I used to do that,” she added with a chuckle.

Sergei scowled. “And what has
this to do with us?”

“John doesn’t want me to resign.
And for the first time in his life, Rob has acknowledged he needs my expertise.
But I won’t stay with EAL unless you agree.”

“You do what you want, Cecile.”
She felt his withdrawal and sighed.

“Wait. There’s more. Rob and I
called the EAL president in Boston. We told him about the past days’ events.
The boss asked us if you’d be interested in a position as a liaison officer
with EAL. I highly recommended you. Rob supported my recommendation.”

Sergei raised incredulous brows.
“Are you serious? Your boss wants to hire me?”

She nodded. “After all, you know
the local government and various agencies better than anyone. Your joining the
EAL team would greatly facilitate our job here.”

He grabbed her shoulders and
almost shook her. “You mean we would stay in Minsk? We would work together on
the environmental cleanup of Belarus?”

She laughed, an incredible
happiness flooding her heart. “Yes, Sergei, yes. You’ll keep your promise to
Sofya and you’ll still serve your country…from the other side of the fence.”

“Call your boss, Cecilya. Call
him right away. Tell him I accept.” Pulling her into his arms, he crushed her
in a fierce hug. “I love you, my darling.
Lublum yavas
,” he whispered,
before his lips captured her mouth in a breath-stealing kiss.

Epilogue

 A large crowd of officers
and friends gathered at the Minsk International Airport to say goodbye and wish
a safe trip to Mr. and Mrs. Sergei Fedorin. Cecile pointed to the mechanical
escalator. It was still there and still broken.

Sergei held her hand. “Don’t go
near it alone, my love. We don’t need a roller coaster ride.”

It was just a year ago when the
young American Program Manager had arrived in Minsk and turned his life upside
down with her lovely smile and independent mind.

He had no regrets.

Two days after his resignation,
the entire American delegation insisted on accompanying him and Cecile, and Rob
and Tania to the US Embassy. The ambassador performed two weddings back to back
and approved two visa applications.

Sergei still couldn’t believe the
number of high-ranking personalities who showed up at the Cathedral and the reception
organized by the Second Lady to celebrate the happy occasion. The press
acclaimed Mr. and Mrs. Fedorin, the very close friends of the Vice-President,
with gorgeous pictures and flattering captions.

With a slap on the back, Nicolai
pulled him out of his reminiscences. “You completed your mission and Cecile has
closed her contract. We will continue the long-term monitoring and cleanup of
Belarus. But remember, you have friends here. Yelena and I will look after your
flat until you come back to visit.”

Cecile wiped her eyes and
sniffled. “Nicolai, we will never forget you. I promise we will be back next
year.”

Nicolai hugged both of them.
Sergei led his wife toward the aircraft.

As the plane climbed, Sergei gazed
through the window at the country where he’d lived all his life.

The tip of his fingers touched
his forehead in a military salute and a lump clogged his throat as he murmured,
“
Dasvidania
, Belarus. Goodbye.”

THE
END

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Her
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