Fires of Kiev Page 11

  “There you are, Meredith.” Scott entered the room and immediately targeted his girlfriend holding hands with the Ukrainian refugee. He looked annoyed and immediately took Meredith’s focus from Kostya. “You left without saying anything.” He pulled her in and kissed her possessively on the lips.

  He might as well have lifted his leg and left his mark on her. Kostya narrowed his eyes at the man. He knew his type, and he didn’t like it. Scott was entitled and arrogant, and Kostya wondered how someone as sweet and generous as Meredith ended up with him.

  Meredith pushed him back, straightening his jacket awkwardly. “You and Jen looked busy,” she responded. “I didn’t want to interrupt such an important meeting.”

  “I’ll make time for your little interruptions, babe,” Scott said, reaching around and squeezing her ass. Meredith glanced around, uncomfortable with his inappropriate display. Kostya wondered if Scott realized he just called her an interruption. “Honey, we need to find our seats and then mingle and greet people. There are plenty of important people here.” He grabbed Meredith’s hand and they crossed the room.

  Kostya stood stoically watching them, Meredith glancing back once or twice toward him. Will approached. “That was painful to watch,” he said. “Can you believe that asshole?”

  “That asshole is sleeping with Meri,” Kostya stated.

  Will shrugged slightly but frowned after them. “Let me show you our seats. Meredith put you next to me. We’ve got some interesting people at our table.” He began to explain who was in the group, but Kostya’s focus was on Meredith. She was across the room, talking to some guests and smiling. Scott was with her, but somehow always behind her. Everyone addressed her, not him.

  “She should be the politician, not Scott,” Kostya commented. “She’s good at this.”

  “I don’t think she’d stoop as low as to become a politician, though,” Will said. “She networks and fundraises and researches and volunteers. She’d be great working at a non-profit or a medical foundation. Right now, she’s content getting to be a doctor, I think.”

  “That’s a demanding career. What does Scott think of her job?” Kostya asked.

  The corners of Will’s mouth went up. “He thinks it’s good to have on her resume, but if the time comes, he wants her to be a socialite.”

  Kostya looked puzzled. “Socialite? Explain this.”

  “A socialite is a wife of a wealthy or powerful man who works to keep their status in important social circles. They entertain, they volunteer, they join clubs, groups, and societies…”

  “They prop up their husband’s career at the expense of their own goals,” Kostya said.

  “You know what they say: behind every great man…” Will shrugged.

  “No, Meredith should be the center.”

  ****

  Meredith sat at the head table next to Scott, her parents, Governor Charles of Louisiana and his wife, and Arthur Lennox, a rich businessman and contributor to her dad’s campaign, and his date. There was plenty of conversation, so she took the opportunity to get lost in her thoughts while the others talked. Beyond the immediate nerves about her speech and the fundraiser’s success, her head spun with thoughts of Kostya, sitting across the room next to her brother.

  She knew the tux he was wearing wasn’t his doing, but wow, did he look good. When he approached her at the door, her heart raced, rushing blood to her face and prickling her senses. And the way he looked at her, well, he made her feel sexy and flirtatious, desirable and strong. She recognized the hooded gaze he used to skim her body, and for a moment, she didn’t dare breathe in fear of interrupting his progress.

  Scott, on the other hand, didn’t even seem to notice her. Beyond her role as the Senator’s daughter, he had little interest in her. Even as dinner progressed, she was only drawn into the conversation when Arthur Lennox leaned in to her as his date exited to the powder room. “You seem preoccupied, Meredith.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” She shook off her wandering mind and took a sip of water. “I must be a little distracted tonight.”

  “Trying to get focused before the big speech?” Mr. Lennox sympathized. “Don’t worry, you’ve already won my donation.”

  “That’s good.” Meredith gestured to the tables around the room. “One down, a hundred and forty-nine to go. Dad will be pleased.”

  “With that smile, you’ll get donations from each one.” He leaned forward and spoke softer. “With your volunteer work, did you spend much time in Novorossiya?”

  Meredith flinched at the use of the controversial name. “There is no Novorossiya. It doesn’t exist.”

  “Ah, but it will.” Mr. Lennox raised his eyebrow at her. “You should know that better than most people, since you saw the results of the revolution.”

  “Revolution?” She coughed on her water. “I saw terrorist groups set on undermining the government of the Ukraine…”

  “One man’s terrorist is another man’s patriot.”

  But terrorists kill lots of innocent people. Meredith took a cleansing breath and plastered a friendly grin on her face, a skill she mastered after years in front of people. “Mr. Lennox, you’re going to get me all flustered before my speech.”

  “Call me Arthur. Please.” He held his hands up in surrender. “That is not my intention. I hoped you could talk to me about what you’ve seen there.”

  “Why?” Her question sounded abrupt.

  “Real Estate. The opportunity to make money.” He smirked, obviously proud of himself. “If Novorossiya succeeds, I’ve secured some favors to be the first there to rebuild the country.”

  Meredith opened her mouth but didn’t have a chance to respond, as Governor Charles rose and took the podium. He did the mandatory welcomes and ribbed the Senator about his need for campaign money, then he introduced Meredith as the first speaker. Despite still reeling from her conversation with Arthur, she rose gracefully from the table and stepped up to the podium.

  She started by acknowledging the Governor and her father and thanking everyone in attendance. Then, she took a deep breath and began.

  “As many of you know, I spent the last five summers as a volunteer with Doctors Without Borders. Most people automatically believe that I would be assigned to Latin America or Africa where the poverty is higher than anywhere else. But I was sent to the Ukraine, a country with one of the fastest growing economies in the world. A place where centuries of rich history clash with the realities of culture and war.

  “In the Ukraine there are places where a child cannot get basic immunizations and a diabetic cannot get insulin. Hospitals have been destroyed, and medical clinics lack supplies and personnel due to the fighting between the Ukrainian Ground Forces and the Novorossiya, terrorist groups supported by the Russian autocracy.”

  There was a slight gasp of surprise from the audience, and she watched her father’s forehead wrinkle along his brow. She had overstepped what she should be saying as a part of the Senator’s family. Arthur, sitting across from her father, was frowning. Scott was leaning back in his chair with his arms folded, glaring. Let him glare, she thought.

  “The citizens of the United States can do more for humanity’s sake, by supporting groups like Doctors Without Borders or by contributing to one of the many refugee centers supported only through people’s giving. Ultimately, we must go after the terrorists who cause the chaos that results in these conditions. Our Congress must find a way to support fighting terrorism in all its forms: through military action, propaganda, technology, and science.”

  Meredith finished her remarks, earning enthusiastic applause, while Arthur Lennox abruptly stood up and excused himself from the table. Meredith politely sat down as the governor stood up to introduce her father. Scott leaned forward and hissed, “You could have at least given us a heads up.”

  She smiled at him and straightened his collar.

  After the speeches, her father and mother greeted a few key donors, then excused themselves to their room. Meredith saw Sc
ott whispering to her father before he left, then Scott eyed her from across the room. Oh brother. He’s preparing my lecture right now. Meredith turned to the bar, ordered ice water and waited for Scott to find her.

  Although many left on the heels of the Senator, the remaining guests took the opportunity to get another drink, build their networks, make connections, or just socialize. Usually Scott would never miss a chance to climb the political ladder, but he approached Meredith right away. “A fundraiser is to raise money for a candidate. Not to chase benefactors away.” His sardonic tone pricked her nerves like biting tin foil.

  “If Mr. Lennox was offended, I am truly sorry. But, he can’t believe…”

  “No, Meredith. He can. In fact, his connections probably give him a better picture of what is going on in the Ukraine than you have.”

  “How can you say that?” Meredith’s face flushed and her voice rose. “Groups like Fire of Dawn are terrorists killing citizens of the Ukraine. I saw the bodies, the injuries, the hardships. They are trying to destroy a sovereign nation for their selfish benefit.”

  “I’m telling you to keep your political ideas to yourself.” Clenching his teeth, he grabbed her arm and turned her in toward the wall. “More than the big donation you may have lost us, Arthur Lennox’s influence is irreplaceable.” He tightened his hold on her painfully. “Just go home. You’ve done enough damage tonight.” Shoving her toward the wall as he released her, Scott ambled toward the bar.

  Meredith rubbed her arm carefully and took three deep breaths to keep her emotions at bay before she turned to face the room. Their altercation had escaped notice, she thought, until her gaze locked on Kostya, glowering across the room. His eyes were focused and determined, his jaw clenched, his hand white-knuckled holding his glass. Meredith frowned, her lips twitching, frightened of both keeping and losing Kostya’s gaze. His intensity reminded her of the night they shared in Kiev, how his eyes explored her, claiming her and possessing her. Disturbing, yet desirable, irreverent and intoxicating, Kostya promised to shelter her and cherish her without saying a word.

  Interrupted by a guest, Meredith turned from his powerful stare to talk. When she looked up, Kostya was gone. Working her way through the room to the door, avoiding Scott, she just wanted to go home.

  She whispered to one of the hotel’s staff and said goodnight to Will, who winked at her. She came out to the lobby, and Kostya approached her holding her cloak and his own overcoat. “I don’t want to intrude, but since we are going to the same place, I thought I could share your ride.” He held her cloak open while she slipped her arms in and he wrapped his arms around her to close the clasp at her shoulder. His focus, although less intense than a few minutes ago, still made her stomach drop.

  “I’m happy to share my ride.” She took Kostya’s arm as the concierge came to tell them her car was ready. The driver had opened her door, but Kostya stood by her, letting her grasp his arm as she took her seat in the car. He jogged to the other side of the car and opened his own door and got in.

  Meredith’s fingers tingled when Kostya sat next to her in the car. Invisible energy bounced between them with every movement. Even if she was committed to Scott, she could appreciate the man sitting next to her, couldn’t she? Other than the buzz-cut hair. He was hard and tight in all the right places, and she knew he could be hard in many other places, too. But, why was she allowing herself to think about that? She was with Scott and that should be enough.

  But was it enough?

  “You are tired, Meri,” Kostya said, once they were settled. “Lean your head on my shoulder, dushen’ka.”

  Why did he have to use that name? It reminds me of Kiev, of that amazing night…

  She hesitated, but relented easily, kicking her shoes off, bending her legs beneath her cloak, and leaning against him as he wrapped his arm around her. She shouldn’t be so close, but she felt so warm, so safe, so protected, that she found herself dozing on the way back. When they pulled up to her Georgetown townhome, Kostya had to rouse her from sleep.

  The driver held the door while Kostya picked up Meredith and slipped him a generous tip. He carried her up the porch steps and through the door with her shoes dangling from her hand. Inside, he helped her out of her coat, his jaw tightening as he ran his hand lightly along her arm. Bruises the shape of Scott’s fingers had already formed.

  She pulled away quickly. “Kostya, I’m okay. There was just a lot of stress tonight.”

  He glowered as she hung up their coats. He started to say something, then stopped himself and headed to his room which Will had shown him earlier.

  “Kostya.” Meredith stopped him before he could get to the stairs. “Let’s stay up for a bit while Scott’s gone. I don’t want to go to bed. We could watch a movie and pop some popcorn.”

  Kostya hesitated then asked, “Will Scott approve?” as if knowing that just his presence upset the man.

  “It will be fine. Besides, I need to come down from the day’s excitement.” Kostya nodded and Meredith pointed to the kitchen. “Do you want some wine? Whiskey?”

  “Wine is good. Whatever you are having.”

  She slipped a bag of popcorn in the microwave and poured two glasses of chardonnay. She pulled a large fuzzy blanket off an ottoman on the side of the room and put it on the couch in front of the television. Placing her wine on the sofa table behind her spot, she retrieved the popcorn and emptied it into a bowl and sat down curling her legs up underneath her with the blanket on top.

  “Come here, Kostya.” She gestured to the seat next to her. He sat down and she patted her lap. “Let me slip off your shoes.” He hesitated, but relented, placing one foot and then the other on her lap for her to untie and remove his shoes. “There,” she said. “We’re now in movie mode.” She threw half the large blanket over him and started working the remote to choose a movie.

  Eventually they chose Roman Holiday, a classic movie that she knew well, but Kostya had never seen. They laughed at Gregory Peck, sighed with Audrey Hepburn, and munched on popcorn and drank wine, polishing off the bottle through the movie. By the end, when Princess Anne chose duty over love, Meredith had dozed off, leaning on him again. Propped up by pillows on the side of the deep couch, Kostya’s arms were wrapped around her, his jacket, vest, tie, and shoes on the floor. Meredith’s hair had been let down, her jewelry, except the key necklace, had been removed, and her stockings were in a pile next to her shoes.

  They were in a light stage of sleep when Meredith’s phone rang, alerting her to a text message. She sat up blinking and fumbled for the phone on the coffee table. Reading the message from Scott, she scowled.

  “Dushen’ka, what is it?” Kostya yawned. He brushed his hand along her arm, causing her to catch her breath.

  “It’s Scott. He took a room at the Hay-Adams so he could work a while longer.”

  Kostya stayed quiet for a moment. “Does he often stay overnight when he is just ten minutes away?”

  “Well, he’s been drinking, and I took the car, and my dad is staying there…” Meredith felt embarrassed, but wanted to defend him.

  “Meri, you don’t need to explain for him.” He stood and folded the blanket, putting it away. “But, if I were coming home to you, I would never be late.” He quietly gathered his things and went upstairs to the guest room.

  Chapter 13

  Morning came quickly for Kostya, affected a little by jet lag, but he knew the best way to get back into a regular sleeping cycle was to get up and get moving. Will was going to pick him up to go to the TRUST offices in about two hours, and Meredith was not yet awake, so he decided to run to the market and come back and make breakfast.

  When Meredith finally got up, she padded down the stairs barefoot in a pair of pink plaid flannel pajamas and a t-shirt that read, “I am the Good Witch.” The sides of Kostya’s mouth turned up in a smile as she pulled her hair back into a quick ponytail and edged up to the breakfast bar where Kostya was loading two plates with eggs and toast. She immediatel
y started rubbing her temples and groaned.

  “Good morning, Meri,” he said, handing her mug of coffee and opening a bottle of painkillers from the counter. “How are you feeling today?” He handed her two tablets and poured her a glass of water to take them.

  She grimaced. “As you may have guessed, I’m a little hungover.” She winced as she swallowed the tablets and put a napkin in her lap as Kostya set down her breakfast. “This is amazing, Kostya. Thank you. I can’t remember the last time someone cooked breakfast for me.”

  “I want to thank you for everything you have done for me.” Kostya sat in the bar stool across from her, setting down his own plate.

  “It is no more than you and your family did for me,” Meredith responded. “Besides, they don’t call it Southern hospitality for nothing.”

  He tucked into his eggs with cheese, while she spread jam on her toast. Meredith took a bite from her plate and sighed. “You certainly learned how to cook from your mother.”

  “Hmm. I guess so.” Kostya stiffened, suddenly remembering the fire in Cherkasy. Things had changed so much in just a few days.

  “Oh, that was not very tactful of me.” Meredith cringed. “I am so very sorry about what happened. Your parents were so kind to me.”

  “You were easy to be kind to.” He nodded, remembering the Sunday morning when she helped prepare the feast for Kostyantin’s christening. Although she was out of her element, she had jumped right in to help.

  Raising her eyes, she asked, “Were you able to get a hold of Bodhan? I’m sure your brothers were worried when you left.”

  “Yes, I spoke to both Bohdan and Anatoli.” His gaze drifted away. “Everything is under control, it seems.”

  His look caused a sudden realization. “You’ll miss the service for your parents, won’t you?” Meredith frowned. “I am so sorry, Kostya.”

  “They would want me to do the right thing. Stopping the launch of a nuclear missile certainly qualifies.” Kostya got up and brought back the coffeepot to warm both their coffees, and they sat quietly for a minute.