Her Russian Hero (International Romance Series) (4 page)

Annoyed at herself, she breathed
deeply.
Get a grip, Cecile Lornier
. The general was just another
customer, even if he was not exactly her next-door-neighbor type.

General Fedorin picked up the
microphone from the table. “
Dobroye outroh
. Good morning, Mr. Gordon, Dr.
Lornier, distinguished guests and colleagues…”

He focused on her face while
insisting he counted on her to help his nation. “The radioactivity spread by
the Chernobyl disaster has polluted our country. So many people have been
affected by cancer. So many young lives have been destroyed. So many loved ones
are gone forever. We need to act fast. We need to clean our environment before
more people suffer.”

His voice filled the huge room
and her heart. Cecile winced, an added responsibility suddenly thumped on her
shoulders. She had come to refurbish an old laboratory. Now the general
expected her to share his fight against pollution.

John took over, his speech more
or less a repeat of the general’s words. He waved a hand toward her. “Dr.
Lornier, Director of EnviroAnalytical Laboratory in Boston, presented an
excellent proposal and won the Belchem contract.”

Aware of the attendance eyeing
her with curiosity, Cecile grabbed the microphone with both hands and tightened
her fingers around it. Bracing herself for her first international speech, she
swallowed down her nerves and looked straight at the general. He nodded and she
improvised a response, stopping after every sentence for translation.

“Good morning, gentlemen. I’m
very pleased to be in Belarus. Refurbishing the Belchem Laboratory will be a
joint effort. Together we will establish an efficient, modern laboratory. I
will explain my plans in detail after I visit the Belchem Laboratory. Thank you
for your warm welcome.” She smiled and pushed the microphone away, feeling back
in control.

John presented gifts to the
Belarusians on her behalf and the officers came to thank her. General Fedorin
lingered a bit too long as he held her hand. He peered into her eyes,
challenging. “This project may prove difficult. My countrymen rely on this
contract for their health and safety.”

“I won’t let them down.” She
stiffened at the mix of doubt and admiration in the look he leveled on her.

“We have several points to
discuss but it can wait.” His gaze softened. “Right now, we need to celebrate
the beginning of a successful working relationship.” He turned toward John. “I
hope you and Dr. Lornier will join me in my office for a toast of vodka?”

“We’d love to,” John said with
his usual contented smile. He hadn’t even bothered to consult with her.

Annoyed, she turned to follow
General Fedorin, but Colonel Roussov approached her, a cup in his hands. “I
noticed you were rubbing your fingers. This hot tea will warm you up.”

“Thank you, Colonel. You’re very
thoughtful.”

Roussov inched closer. “If you
need any help, please do not hesitate to ask.”

“I’ll certainly do so.”

“Dr. Lornier, I must inform you
that I control the Customs Bureau. You will need a customs permit and my
signature to bring the scientific equipment into our country.” He patted her
shoulder in a paternal gesture. “But my dear Dr. Lornier, I will be at your
side during the project.”

Could she tell him she really
didn’t want him at her side? She’d rather stay as far as possible from his
hawk-like gaze. Tania’s comments about his former KGB function nagged her more
than she wanted to admit. Cecile took a step back and summoned a formal smile.
“I appreciate your kindness, Colonel.”

Under furrowed brows, his eyes
darkened. Was he assessing her? His mouth twitched. “I do not understand why
the U.S. aid consists of useless instruments. Our country could use food or
agricultural machines to produce food.”

“But, Colonel, I thought your
Ministry of Defense specified the requirements of this contract,” she retorted
without bothering to explain the benefits of her project.

“Not the Ministry, Dr. Lornier.
One man, the
Major
Generalle
decides whatever pleases him.”

She shot a glance at General
Fedorin who stood by the door. He answered with a penetrating look, a silent
message she wished she understood.

Roussov’s gaze darted in the same
direction. Suddenly, he grabbed her wrist, his hand as cold as a snake crawling
over her skin. “If I may confide in you. Fedorin is a ruthless womanizer with a
lot of charm. My daughter was seventeen and innocent when he seduced her. She
defied me and married him.”

“Your daughter? The Major
General?” A shiver ran down her spine but she straightened her back and
struggled to keep her cool.

“Yes, our
Major Generalle
himself,” he rasped into her ear. “He abandoned her during her illness. She
died alone. Neglected and miserable.”

“I’m sorry for your daughter.”
Her mind reeling, she tried to sympathize with the sorrow of an agonized
father.

His tone hardened with a fierce
edge. “He killed her as surely as if he had aimed a gun at her head.”

Roussov’s alcohol-tinted breath
banished the oxygen from the air. “I warn you. Fedorin is not to be trusted.
Forget Fedorin. Forget this contract. Help me bring food and money to Belarus.”

Jolted back to the reality of her
business, she eyed him coldly. She would never ignore her contract. Not for
Colonel Roussov or even for his hunky son-in-law.

“I have a contract to fulfill.”

“You remind me of my poor
daughter. A very naïve girl. Be careful, my dear.” His paternal smile was back
in place. “Anyway, I will be happy to support your effort and protect you from
unwelcome people.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled, her
voice stifled and unnatural.

He bowed and turned away.

Why would she need protection?
And from whom, exactly?

Still stunned by the incredible
revelation, she glanced at General Fedorin. He was watching her intently. She
had trouble visualizing the noble Major General as a heartless husband.

Before she could recover, Nicolai
pulled her out of her distressing thoughts. “Excuse me, Dr. Lornier, my
Generalle
expects you.”

Cecile took a deep breath. Too
many emotions churned in her heart and she wished she could run to her hotel
room to sort through them.

At the door, General Fedorin
seemed to ignore John’s monologue. His stern expression broke into a welcoming
grin as she neared him. He cupped her elbow and escorted her out of the Red
Hall. John followed with Nicolai along the dark corridor.

The general unlocked a door with
a sculpted bronze key, entered a small antechamber, and proceeded through a
double set of doors lined with thick leather. Cecile halted and examined the
empty space between the two sets of doors.

“For soundproofing,” John
whispered in her ear. “Special privilege for high-ranking personalities.”

She’d expected the general’s
office to be rudimentary, reflecting a military simplicity, and she was
agreeably surprised by its classy elegance. The cherry wood desk, credenza,
matching bookcase and cocktail table lent an aura of prestige to the spacious
room.

The general gestured to the brown
leather sofa and chairs. “Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

Cecile exchanged business cards
with the two officers. Fedorin glanced at her card and shoved it into the drawer
of his desk. While John settled in one of the leather chairs, Nicolai extracted
a bottle of vodka and small glasses from a closet, then filled the shot glasses
and distributed them.

The general raised his glass in a
toast. “Welcome to Belarus.
Moy drouk
, my friends, I wish you a happy
stay in my beautiful country.
Na zdorovie
. To your health.”

The men emptied their glasses in
one shot. Cecile swallowed a first sip. In Boston, she had tried the foreign
liquor diluted with orange juice and ice cubes. Today, she experienced the
burning effect of straight, unadulterated Belarusian vodka.

The general led her to the sofa
and sat beside her. “Dr. Lornier, you hardly touched your drink.” He chuckled.
“Let me show you how to drink vodka. One of us makes a toast. You raise your
glass and you swallow it all at once. Bottoms up, as you Americans say.”

Nicolai filled a second round.
John hauled his corpulent frame off his chair. “I propose a toast to the
success of our joint project in Minsk.”

The men chorused, “Bottoms up.”

She raised her glass, then
emptied half of her drink and brought her hand to her throat. She could swear
it was on fire.

Waggling his finger at her, John
chuckled. “You cheated. You left half the vodka in your glass. With each toast,
you’ll get better.”

“I’m a vodka novice,” she said in
a pitiful voice, her face burning, her eyes tickling. “How many toasts will we
drink?”

John burst out laughing. “By the
end of the afternoon, you’ll lose count.”

Cecile shook her head. “That was
my last one.” As an executive, she had often shared all-male meetings and
learned to stand on her own feet, never allowing anyone to intimidate her.

The general focused a pensive
gaze on her. She raised her brows in a silent question.

“Dear Dr. Lornier, we won’t do
anything to make you uncomfortable. I would like you to stay for a few more
minutes. Colonel Nicouvitch will explain some of the suggestions I have already
discussed with Mr. Gordon during his last visit.” Turning toward John, he
added, “Thank you for coming. We will see you at the Belchem Lab.”

John was responsible for her
safety in Belarus. She tossed a quick look in his direction, expecting him to
politely protest and stay with her but John nodded with a nonchalant smile and
left.

After an uncomfortable moment of
quiet, Cecile stole a glimpse at the general. How could he dismiss her
colleague so casually?

Totally unaware of her
discomfort, the general waved toward his colonel. “Explain.”

Nicolai dutifully nodded. “A year
ago, we thought about analyzing some samples collected from around Minsk in a
European laboratory but the cost was too prohibitive for our government—”

“Dr. Lornier,” the general
interrupted. “We need to find out immediately if our soil is heavily
contaminated with toxic substances. We all know the refurbishment of the
Belchem Laboratory will not happen overnight. For the sake of our citizens, I
would like you to send some samples for analysis in your Boston laboratory…” He
paused and arched his eyebrows. “Although your project does not include this
extra task.”

Cecile caught his intense gaze
and felt her face flush. She didn’t appreciate his authoritative tone but for
the sake of his citizens she wouldn’t take offense. She rubbed her forehead
then pressed her thumb on her temple to dissipate the effect of the vodka. The
general’s request—or rather demand—would require spending more money. Could she
afford going over budget for this extra task?

“I’ll need to think about it
without the boosting effect of the vodka.” She gave him an apologetic smile.
“Can we discuss it in a couple of days?”

“Absolutely,” Nicolai said. “You
will let us know when you reach a decision. Excuse me now.”

The door closed behind him.

She was alone with the general.
She glanced at the door and then at her host. Was there anything else to talk
about? And why had he sent John and Nicolai away? Discussing business didn’t
require privacy.

Roussov’s warning came to haunt
her. Her pulse accelerated. She bounced from the sofa, determined to follow
Nicolai.

“Dr. Lornier, please.” Raising
his hand like a stop sign, the general barred the way. “When Mr. Gordon
introduced you yesterday, I was taken aback.” The authoritative edge
disappeared from the general’s tone. “We are not used to dealing with women in
international business. We assumed Cecil was a man.”

Had he detained her to apologize
for his officers’ blunder? Unsure, she leveled her gaze on his and waited for
more.

“Please.” He gestured to the
place she’d just vacated. Reluctantly, she sat on the edge of the sofa, waiting
for him to deliver a trump card, while he settled in a chair across from her.
“You are quite young for such an important contract. It is a difficult
responsibility.”

Damn his condescension. It wasn’t
an apology after all. He doubted her competence. “Believe me, General, my
position was not handed to me on a silver platter.”

Far from it. How could she
describe the frenzy of the last two months? The planning, the meetings, the
brainstorming, the arguments. Cecile had hardly slept four hours a night while
studying the best way to perform the project—and keep Rob’s claws off her
contract.

The patronizing wrap of Rob’s arm
around her shoulders had knocked the air out of her lungs when he’d proudly announced
he’d been chosen to head the Environmental Division. The very position she’d
worked so hard to reach, while the worthless bastard played golf every Saturday
with the company VP.

She tilted her chin up,
determined to forget about the past months and her ex-fiancé. “I competed
against several executives—all men—for this contract. My proposal beat the
others fairly. I was chosen by our Department of Defense to manage the
project.” She released a deep breath, hating to sound defensive.

The general nodded with
understanding. “Please, don’t read any disrespect into my question, just
admiration and surprise.”

Cecile eyed him, not believing a
word of his flowery talk. She wondered how many women had succumbed to his
irresistible charm. The man was devilishly handsome and seemed to be an expert
at smooth talking. Thank God, she was immune to this brand of attraction.

An easy smile played at the
corners of his mouth. “We are two civilized partners.”