Read My Only One Online

Authors: Lindsay McKenna

My Only One (19 page)

BOOK: My Only One
9.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

He gently brought Abby against him afterward, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder, her arm wrapped across his damp chest. Slightly curled tendrils of her hair clung to her skin and a soft smile lingered on her lips, a smile that told him that he’d satisfied her. Alec felt like crying; he felt like celebrating. Never had he wanted to please a woman more than Abby.


Moya dusha,
my soul,” he whispered raggedly, placing a kiss on her temple. “You’re as molten as the color of your hair you wear so proudly as a banner proclaiming your courage.”

Abby slowly opened her eyes and drowned in the velvet sable warmth of his gaze. “I wish I had your words, your beautiful words to tell you how I feel,” she said with a sigh.

“You showed me in another, even more important way,” Alec assured her, skimming the outline of her torso, hip and thigh. With each caress, she moved unconsciously against him, as if she were a cat being lovingly stroked.

“I feel like I’m floating,” Abby whispered, “and I’m so tired….”

Sliding his arm beneath her neck and shoulder, Alec brought her against him. “Then sleep. I’ll be here to hold you throughout the night. When you awaken tomorrow morning, I’ll be here, too. Sleep….”

* * *

A
BBY SLOWLY CAME AWAKE
, cocooned by a euphoria that made her fight wakefulness and retreat into that wonderful emotional world of sensation and happiness. She had vivid memories of making love with Alec, just as now she was aware of his moist breath against her cheek. She lay against him, one arm and one leg thrown across his sleeping form, her head nestled on his shoulder. The thrill of his arm draped across her waist reminded her that even in sleep he claimed her.

Barely opening her eyes, Abby sighed. She wanted nothing more out of life—the feeling of completeness filled her to overflowing. Nothing could have prepared her for the gift of discovery she made now while Alec slept. Before, in her past relationships, there was still a part of her that had gone untouched. Loving Alec last night had been the most right thing in the world, and Abby knew it now with a clarity that astounded her. With Alec, she felt whole.

Alec stirred, nuzzled his face into her abundant hair and murmured something in Russian. When he opened his eyes enough to realize Abby was in his arms, he awakened. Huge blue eyes filled with flecks of gold smiled back at him in silent greeting. As Abby lifted her hand and smoothed several strands of hair from his brow, he groaned.

“Utro vechera mudrenee,”
he said, and propped himself up on one elbow, leaned over and claimed her lips. She tasted sweet and hot all at the same time. When her hands slid along his rib cage and reminded him of her sleekness as a woman, Alec smiled against her mouth.

“Whatever you said sounded beautiful,” Abby told him, their lips still touching.

Alec felt the living, pulsating tension in her body as she shifted against him in a silent language that dizzied him. “I said ‘the morning is wiser than the evening.’” He kissed each corner of her mouth. Easing away just enough to absorb her into his heart, his soul, he whispered, “It’s an old Russian saying. It means that things are usually brighter in the morning than they were the night before. I find this to be true.” His voice became softer. “Last night, you were torn apart by trying to make a decision about us, about loving each other.”

“Not anymore,” Abby admitted, running her hand across his prominent collarbone. “I like your Russian saying. This morning things do look brighter…happier, for me, for us.”

Alec lifted his head. “Want to take a shower together?”

The idea was provocative. Tantalizing. Abby nodded and looked at the clock on the bedstand. “It’s only six o’clock. We have time to shower, dress and get ready to catch the plane to New York City at eight.”

Alec pulled the sheet aside, revealing her long, willowy body. He caressed her hip. “First, the speech at the U.N., and then we’ll have the rest of the time together.”

With a chuckle, Abby sat up, her red hair tumbling in wild abandon across her shoulders. “You think the press will leave us alone after those speeches? What an idealist you are.”

He stood up and pulled Abby into his arms, her body warm and yielding against him. “And a romantic, don’t forget that.”

“Yes,” Abby murmured, following him into the large bathroom, “you are the most romantic man I’ve ever met.”

“And we’ll have time for each other after the speeches, I promise,” Alec told her seriously. “
Glasnost
may be foremost, but the Party members at the Soviet embassy are just going to have to put up with me turning down certain engagements in order to be with you instead.”

Slipping into his arms, Abby nuzzled his neck and jaw. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Alec smiled into her eyes. “I wonder what your Dr. Turner will do once she hears our speeches?”

“Probably have a snit,” Abby said tartly. “I hope she does.” But when Alec’s lips met hers again, all thoughts of Monica Turner faded from Abby’s mind.

* * *

“I
CAN’T BELIEVE THIS
!” Monica exclaimed at the end of the U.N. speeches. She sat at her desk and glared at the television. “The Soviet Union is siding with that damned woman!”

“Worse,” her secretary, Pat, murmured as she shut off the VCR and rewound the tape, “is the fact that several key congressmen Dr. Fielding named are going to push for stronger legislation.”

“We’ve already got two amendments in place! I didn’t expect the Soviet Union to give verbal backing to Fielding’s syrupy speech. Just who the hell is this Captain Rostov? Some SOWF plant in disguise?”

“I doubt it. You know, with
glasnost
expanding, I think General Secretary Gorbachev wants to be seen as a man who’s environmentally sensitive. Remember, he needs all the support from abroad and from as many factions as possible.”

“Well,” Monica snapped, “he’s picked the wrong side on that issue! Just who do they think they are?”

Monica whirled around and looked out the window. She saw nothing of the warm spring morning or the sunlight lacing through cottony white clouds above Washington, D.C. “I’m not going to let Fielding sway my congressmen. I’ve got them locked up. They’ve given their word, and they don’t dare break it.”

The secretary nodded. “Do you want me to call the White House for you? Perhaps a statement is in order?”

“Yes,” Monica ground out. “I want to talk to the press secretary. Maybe he’ll have some brilliant ideas on how to plug the holes in the dike caused by this latest Fielding maneuver.”

* * *

“I
CAN’T BELIEVE ALL THIS
,” Abby said as she sat down in the silk-upholstered chair in a small, tastefully appointed room at the U.N. She glanced up at Alec, who stood near the door and smiled. Today, for his speech, he’d worn a dark gray suit, white shirt and red tie. The press had learned that President Reagan was drawn to red and would always choose reporters who wore that color. Now it was the rage: every man wore a red tie, whether he was a member of the press or not. It amazed Abby how some fads got started. On Alec, however, the color complemented his dark good looks.

“Tim’s fighting off the hordes of reporters outside this door,” Alec said, lifting his thumb and pointing at the entrance.

“Lock it.”

He laughed softly. “No, Tim has to escape into here, too. We can’t leave him stranded.”

“You’re right,” she muttered. As Alec walked toward her, Abby’s shoulders straightened in a confident stance. Alec leaned down, captured her hand and squeezed it and then dropped a gentle kiss upon her lips.

“You were magnificent,” he told her.

“And you knocked their socks off, Alec. I saw the delegates' faces.” She smiled. “I think they finally realize
glasnost
is for real. It’s not some buzzword, it’s becoming a reality.”

Tim entered the room and quickly shut the door behind him. Dressed in a dark blue suit, he turned and wiped his brow. Although the Coast Guard wasn’t involved in an official capacity with Alec’s second trip to the U.S., Tim had requested leave and gotten it. He had agreed to act as Alec’s press aid to help sort out invitations to various talk shows.

Abby missed seeing him in his uniform, but understood that he couldn’t wear it under the circumstances. If he had, the Coast Guard might have looked as if it were condoning Alec’s speech and visit.

“Whew, you two really know how to stir up a hornet’s nest, you know that?” Tim lifted the notepad held in his left hand. “I’ve got you lined up for two television appearances, ten radio interviews interspersed through the next four days, and get this—you’ll appear with Larry King on CNN. That’s one show that can really get the message out on your whale and dolphin dilemma. Besides, I like King. He’s a fair interviewer. He’ll give you time to tell your side and not cut you to ribbons. Isn’t that great?”

Abby groaned. She glanced up at Alec, who still held her hand. “What was that about five quiet days to spend together after the speeches?”

“I suppose it was idealistic,” Alec admitted, a sadness moving through him. “The secretary general will want me to take advantage of the opportunities to help the American public understand that
glasnost
is genuine. We’ll still get some time together, though,” he promised her.

With a grin, Tim halted in front of them and flipped through the dates, interview times and other pertinent information. “I like
glasnost.
It means the end of the Cold War, and everybody can start putting away their weapons and hardware.”

“Amen to that,” Abby said with feeling. “If we can get people’s attention away from the threat of nuclear war and get their focus on the real problem, our dying Earth, then maybe we can make some real progress.”

Somberly, Alec agreed. “
Perestroika
has to work in the Soviet Union, too. It’s being viewed with distrust by the people. I just hope they can believe in what the secretary-general has put into motion. It will mean a lot of hardship and even more sacrifice on everyone.”

“You’re going from a state-supported economy to a free-market economy,” Tim pointed out, sitting down. “It’s going to take time, Alec, and a lot of painful decisions. I hope the U.S. gives the Soviet Union the backing it’s going to need as that shift takes place. Otherwise, I really think there could be riots and strikes.”

With a groan, Alec murmured, “I hope not! That would shatter the delicate situation that exists over there.”

“No growth comes without birthing pains,” Tim reminded him. “Can you tell I studied economics?”

Abby made a face. “No kidding, Tim. Do you have any
good
news for us? First, you tell us we’ll have no time together, then you tell Alec his country is going to have strikes and riots.”

The officer scratched his head and gave them a sheepish grin. “Sorry. Normally, I’m the epitome of positive thinking.”

“You’re a nice balance between the two,” Alec said in his defense. “I know my country is going to go through many kinds of growing pains.”

Abby sat there, content to have Alec’s hand resting on her shoulder. For a moment, her idealistic-dreamer side took over. What would it be like to be married to Alec and have him living in her country with both of them working for SOWF objectives regarding the whales and dolphins? With a little sigh, she knew it was a silly dream. But being around Alec encouraged her to dream. For him, the world was shaped by what one dreamed. A spasm of pain made her heart ache. In four more days, Alec was going to be gone—forever.

“How are you and Susan getting along?” Alec asked Tim.

Tim smiled briefly as he consulted his notes. “It looks good, real good, Alec.”

“And how is Courtney responding to you?”

Tim glanced up, his voice softening. “She’s coming around.”

Abby shook her head. “You’re so cautious, Tim! Courtney loves him to death, Alec. She can hardly wait until he visits. She climbs into his lap, wants to play horsey with him and chatters away.” Smiling at the man, Abby said, “As usual, Tim has charmed Courtney into liking him.”

Blushing, Tim laughed. “Now, Abby, that’s not true. Courtney trusts me, and that’s even more important.” His smile slipped. “I just hope I never disappoint her. There’s a lot of fine lines to walk with that kid. After Susan told me what happened to Courtney, I cried.”

Alec nodded. “A child is innocent. For any man to abuse a child is a crime in my eyes.”

The look on Tim’s face convinced Abby that if he ever ran into Susan’s ex-husband, the man was going to be lucky to escape alive. Rarely had she seen the Coast Guard officer’s hard, military side, but she saw it in the flash of his eyes right then.

“Susan’s been hurt, too,” Tim told them. “I’ve been trying to convince her to get therapy, to get some form of help.”

Abby stirred from her chair. “I think your persuasion is going to work. Susan told me she’s made an appointment with a woman therapist.” She saw the surprise and then gratefulness mirrored in Tim’s face.

“That’s good news,” he whispered. “I came out of a family where none of that happened. When she started telling me all this stuff, I felt like she was making it all up, but I knew she wasn’t.”

“I came out of a good home, too,” Abby said, “so I understand what you mean.”

“Without Susan getting help,” Alec said, “your relationship with her was going to continue to be difficult.”

Tim nodded grimly. “Don’t I know it. I can only do so much, but, hell, I don’t have the experience to give her all the help she needs. It’s damned frustrating.”

Abby got up and went to Tim. She leaned down and patted his shoulder. “Listen, you’ve been of more help to those two than you’ll ever know. You’ve given them love, Tim, and hope for a future that doesn’t have to mirror the past. That’s a beautiful gift, don’t you think?”

“I never looked at it that way,” Tim admitted somberly. “Sometimes, I just feel so helpless when Susan starts reacting to me as if I’m her ex-husband. I’m not. I’m me.”

“One day, she’ll see you, not her past.”

Flashing a smile up at her, Tim gripped her hand. “Anyone ever tell you, Dr. Fielding, that you’re good medicine for whales
and
people?”

BOOK: My Only One
9.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Gypsy Duchess by Nadine Miller
Long Way Home by Bill Barich
Devil in Disguise by Heather Huffman
Ghost Stories by Franklin W. Dixon
Torn by Chris Jordan