My Only One (15 page)

“Miss Manners wouldn’t approve,” Susan chided her with a laugh.

“No,” Abby laughed, “Miss Manners wouldn’t want to come into my apartment for dinner. I’m sure she’d have a hemorrhage if she saw us eating dessert from a coffee table while we sat on the floor.”

“This is family living and eating,” Tim said. “Nothing wrong with having dessert on the coffee table, is there, Squirt?”

All eyes focused on Courtney. She looked up solemnly at Tim. “Wendy and Wally like it.”

“Then,” Tim whispered, leaning over with his napkin and removing a speck of ice cream from the corner of Courtney’s mouth, “that’s all that counts, isn’t it?”

Susan shook her head. She glanced over at Abby. “Can you believe this?” she asked her.

With a sigh, Abby smiled at Tim. “I told you he was a very special person. Now, maybe you’ll believe me.” Courtney never allowed a stranger to touch her. Yet when Tim had leaned over and cleaned off her mouth, Courtney accepted his touch as if it were the most natural thing in the world between them. Glancing at Alec, who sat in one of the two maple rockers, she saw the warmth and compassion dancing in his eyes.

Her heart was filled with happiness. Abby sat cross-legged on the floor and enjoyed her friends. There wasn’t much more in the world she could wish for, except that Alec wouldn’t have to leave. Their world would come to an end shortly. After the planned meal aboard the
Eagle,
he’d be flown to the airport—and would be gone forever from her life.

Chapter Eight

“T
HE
E
AGLE
IS
beautiful ship,” Alec told Abby in a hushed tone as they walked arm in arm around the shadowy deck. He raised his head, admiring the many masts of the ship, the web of ropes hanging from them holding the furled canvas sheets captive. Dinner in the wardroom had been a lively and engaging experience. Below, on the pier, Tim walked Susan and Courtney back to the parking lot. Susan would drive home, and Tim would drive Abby and Alec to the waiting helicopter that would take Alec to the airport.

“The night is beautiful,” Abby whispered as she leaned out over the highly polished brass railing to look at the placid waters of the Potomac. It was nearly 11:00 p.m., and there was a peaceful silence that blanketed the river and the pier area. Lights suspended from the masts shed a soft light across the deck of the ship, providing just enough illumination to see where one walked, but allowing two people, if they wanted, to hide in the embrace of the darkness. Tonight, Abby did.

Her voice had wobbled. Had Alec heard the emotion she was trying so hard to keep at bay?

He moved alongside her, his hand near hers on the rail. “You barely ate anything tonight, Abby.”

“I know….”

“I didn’t, either.” With a shrug, he added in a strained voice, “I don’t want to have to leave you.”

Abby turned and looked up into his serious features etched out of darkness and light. “You’re so unlike American men. They’d play a game with me, but you don’t. You go straight to the heart of the matter.”

Lifting his hand, he caressed her cheek. “When one’s heart is involved, there can be no games,” Alec whispered. Her flesh was firm and velvet beneath each stroke of his thumb. He saw her eyes grow soft, and the longing grew tenfold within him. How many times in these last three weeks had Alec wanted to kiss her? He’d lost count.

Closing her eyes, Abby nuzzled against Alec’s hand. “I’m going to miss you more than I ever thought possible.”

With a groan, Alec pulled her into his arms. As Abby melted against him, he sighed. Her arms went around his waist and she clung to him. “
Moya edinstvenaya,
my only one.”

Burying her face against his shoulder and neck, Abby tried to fight the flow of tears that wanted to come, but she couldn’t. “The time with you,” she whispered, her voice cracking, “has been like a dream, Alec. A beautiful dream. And it’s coming to an end tonight.” At 1:00 a.m., a Soviet airliner would take off from Kennedy Airport. After one last press conference, Alec would leave—forever.

Gently threading his fingers through her loose, glorious hair, Alec felt the silken strength of the strands. The spicy perfume Abby wore made him heady, made him want to forget about going back to the Soviet Union. “I understand.” His voice was none too steady, either. Abby felt heavenly in his arms. Alec was hotly aware of the way her body curved, met and touched his.

“One of my favorite poets, Evgeny Baratynsky, who lived in the early 1800s, wrote something I think applies to us,” he told her quietly. “It is called ‘Love’ and he says, ‘In love we drink the sweet poison; / and yet we drink it, / And pay for the brief joy / With the unhappiness of many days. / The fire of love is the fire of life, / they say; but what is it that we see? / It empties and destroys / The soul it embraces. / But who, o love, can stifle the memories / Of your splendid days? / Then I would come to life again to taste of joy, / To dream the golden dreams of blooming youth, / To open again my soul to you.’”

Abby sniffed and lifted her head. Alec’s eyes burned with such heat for her alone, that she trembled. As he placed his fingers beneath her chin, a soft sigh issued from her lips. Never had she wanted to kiss a man more, never had she wanted to know a man better.

“I would drink the sweet poison of your lips, Abby, and share my brief joy at being with you….”

As he leaned down, his eyes narrowed upon her, Abby leaned upward, her arms tightening around Alec. “No regrets,” she whispered achingly.

“No,” he rasped, “no regrets…”

His mouth fitted perfectly against hers, and heat swept through her like a bolt of lightning. She tasted the coffee, the chocolate dessert on his lips, and hungrily returned his fiery need of her. Suddenly, the world ceased to exist as Abby lost herself in the taste, texture and senses of Alec as a man. A man of incomparable strength and gentleness, as his mouth nipped and cajoled her to glory in their union.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Alec disengaged. It was the last thing in the world he wanted to do. Abby’s eyes were dazed and lustrous after the branding, burning kiss. She swayed against him, and he fitted his hand against her hip to steady her. He was dizzy himself. Dizzy with the knowledge and intoxication of her fiery response.

“You are as hot as the color of your hair,” he rasped, briefly touching the long, shining strands across her shoulder. The ache to lean down, to sweep Abby uncompromisingly into his arms and love her was pulverizing him internally. As she lifted her eyelashes, her mouth wet and parted from his kiss, Alec groaned softly. “You are a woman of fire,
moya edinstvenaya. My
woman of fire….”

Alec placed his hand around her waist, drew her close and began the walk slowly across the deck. There were no words Abby could say because she was snared in a web of molten heat that flowed through every vibrating cell in her body. As they walked down the gangplank to the pier below and then toward the parking lot, where Tim stood waiting for them, Abby tried to gather her escaping emotions.

Once in the car, grateful for the darkness cloaking her, she hoped that Tim wouldn’t see the devastation she was sure was written on her face. Alec’s arm around her gave her solace, but not comfort. Abby leaned against Alec, her face buried beneath his jaw.

“I’ve given you my address,” he told her quietly. “I will write, Abby.”

“I’m a lousy letter writer,” she said, “but you’ll hear from me. That’s a promise.”

He smiled faintly, the pain around his heart nearly too much to bear. “I will always think of Baratynsky’s poem with new awareness,” he told her wryly.

“I’ll never forget it,” Abby said, sitting up. She turned and placed her hand against his cheek. The prickly feeling of his beard reminded her that he always got a five o’clock shadow. In the changing light, he looked dangerous in all ways to her wildly beating heart.

“When I get back aboard the
Udaloy,
I’ll write the poem down and send it to you. Russian poets always speak from their heart and soul.”

Abby felt as if her soul were being ripped apart. Words were so useless right now. “I’ve learned so much about the Soviet Union through you, Alec. Good things. Wonderful things.”

He smiled sadly and pressed her hand against his cheek. “America is no longer some dark, threatening place I was raised to believe that it was.” He leaned over and kissed her lips gently. “I will remember the woman with the courage to challenge the world because of her passionate belief that all things deserve to live in harmony with one another.”

Abby forced back a sob. She didn’t want Alec’s last picture of her to be one of tears. Later, she could cry out the loss of him in her life at home, in the privacy of her apartment.

“We’re here,” Tim called over his shoulder.

Abby looked out the front window of the vehicle. There, on a landing pad, was the H-65, a white Coast Guard helicopter with the international red-orange stripe on its tail. She felt Alec’s hand tighten around hers.

“You could fly with me to the airport. It would give us a few more minutes together.”

She shook her head and looked away, fighting to not cry. “N-no, it’s better this way, Alec. I’m lousy at goodbyes.” She forced herself to look up at him, his face imprinted forever on the memory of her aching heart. She smoothed the fabric of his dark blue uniform, then she rested her hand against his chest. “I’d get your uniform all wet. You’re going to a news conference. You need to look your best, not have dark splotches of tears all over your jacket.”

He smiled and looked down at his uniform. There were already several small damp spots left by the tears she was trying so hard not to release right now. He pressed his hand across them. “These are like medals. I’ll wear them proudly and without apology in front of the whole world, Abby.” He brushed away a tear clinging to her lashes. “Tears are the gateway to the soul, didn’t you know that?”

It took everything Abby had not to burst into a torrent of sobs. She sat there holding herself stiffly, not even daring to breathe for that moment because his words unstrung her like nothing else ever could. Finally, she choked out, “Goodbye, Alec.”

“Farewell,
moya edinstvenaya,
” he breathed, leaning down, kissing her one last time, a kiss that had to last forever.

Abby tore her mouth away from his as she drowned in the splendor of his unchecked fire, the beauty of him as a consummate man, sensitive and caring. She sat there as Alec left his seat and climbed out of the car. Tears blurred Abby’s vision, warm streams running down her cheeks. She wasn’t going to be able to hold back her tears until she got home, the pain, the loss, were too great.

Tim shook Alec’s hand, the warmth between the two men obvious, and escorted him to the helicopter. Unable to watch Alec walk to the awaiting aircraft, Abby sat back in the seat. She heard the whine of the helicopter engine and then the whooshing sound of the rotor as it began to move faster and faster.

Finally, the aircraft engine revved up to a high whine, and Abby knew the helicopter was going to take off. She wiped her eyes with her trembling fingers and watched the Coast Guard aircraft slowly lift off the pad and become swallowed up in the darkness of the night. Only the blinking red and green lights showed where the helicopter was in the fabric of the night sky. Sniffing, Abby hunted for and found a tissue in her purse. After wiping her eyes, she got out and moved into the front seat beside Tim.

Tim took off his cap and placed it on the rear seat. “How are you doing?” he asked quietly, studying her gravely.

“Rotten,” Abby whispered.

“You’re really one brave lady, you know that?”

Abby shook her head. The car started forward, and she leaned back, the tissue pressed to her eyes. “I don’t feel very brave right now, Tim. I feel like hell.”

His mouth tightened. “I’m sorry, Abby. For both of you. To me, it was obvious from the first moment I met Alec that there was something special you two had going for you.”

Sniffing, Abby nodded. “I—I just feel like someone’s ripped out my heart. I’ve never had this feeling before. It’s awful.”

The lights along the thoroughfare blipped through the car window, cascading them alternately with brightness and then darkness. “As I was walking back from the helo, I was trying to put myself in your place. I’ve just met Susan and Courtney. What would it be like to know that I had to walk out of their lives forever after just meeting them, liking them…?”

Abby lifted her head and looked over at Tim’s grim profile. “You like Susan that much?”

He glanced over at her. “That much. Keep it a secret, though. Susan’s really been hurt, and she’s gun-shy of me. I want to go real slow with her. Maybe, with time, she’ll trust me as much as Courtney does.” He smiled a little.

Despite her own agony, Abby reached out and gripped Tim’s arm. “This is wonderful,” she whispered unsteadily. “I was so hoping that you’d like one another.”

“Like?” Tim said. “More like being knocked alongside the head with a two-by-four, Abby.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Really?”

“Really. I can’t get her out of my thoughts. I lay awake at night thinking about Susan. I go around during the day thinking about her. When I do sleep, I dream about her.” He shook his head. “I know we’re a generation that has lost its ability to be romantic and idealistic because of so much going down but, Abby, I feel all those things when I’m with Susan.”

Sitting back in the seat, Abby said nothing. The pain in her heart over Alec’s leaving was no less, but at least now a ribbon of joy shared that spot in her breast. “Oh, Tim, I hope that things work out between you and Susan. She deserves someone like you after all the hell she’s gone through. And so does Courtney.”

He laughed, a little shy after his admission. “Her deserve me? Hell, I’m wondering what I did to deserve someone like her!”

Patting her shoulder, Abby said, “Just persevere, Tim. Susan needs your patience and understanding.”

“I know that. I sense it.”

“Funny,” Abby said softly, “how much you and Alec are alike, do you know that? Men are finally starting to understand and embrace the idea that being sensitive, being able to show feelings and even cry aren’t signs of weakness. They’re signs of strength. That’s what women need—men who aren’t afraid of those feelings and emotions. Men like you.”