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Alec grabbed the shoulder of her survival suit. Instantly, he kicked back toward the surface. To his surprise and terror, the survival suit was much heavier than he’d realized. It took every last vestige of his superb physical condition to get the woman back to the surface. Gasping for air, he placed one arm around her to keep her head up and out of the water. Swimming hard for the collar that dangled nearby, Alec sobbed for breath.
No wonder she’d gone down so quickly. The survival suit felt like an anchor. As hard as Alec kicked, he realized with a sinking feeling that his boots were retarding them from reaching the collar. Anxiously, he glanced at the woman. She wasn’t breathing. He had only minutes to revive her or she’d have permanent brain damage. If he could revive her at all. She was suffering from hypothermia and a small cut on her forehead.
The collar, once retrieved, was easy to bring around himself and the woman. Alec placed both his arms under her, locking his hands into a fist just below her breasts. He heard the winch begin and instantly felt the collar tighten around them. Hurry! Hurry! The weight from the deadly survival suit was ponderous. The winch was pulling them up, up, until finally, like two dripping towels being rescued from the grasping, hungry sea, they slowly came out of the water.
Alec was nearly beside himself at the slowness of the winch recovery. Zotov helped him maneuver the woman into the helo and laid her down on the metal surface that was glazed over with ice. Alec staggered into the aircraft on his hands and knees, gasping and shaking from the cold.
“Shut the door!” he ordered Zotov as soon as he shrugged out of the collar.
The crewman shut and locked it.
Alec crawled to the woman’s side and rolled her onto her belly. Like all officers in the Soviet navy, he’d been taught CPR and advanced first-aid life-saving techniques. Straddling her, he placed his hands low on her torso and, leaning forward, forced out the water he knew was in her lungs. Zotov hovered nearby. Without a helmet on, Alec was without communications ability with his pilot.
“Get to the Udaloy!” Alec yelled above the roar, hoping Zotov would understand him. The crewman jerked a thumbs-up that he understood the order and relayed the command to the pilot. Instantly, the Helix banked right, gained altitude, the engines revving up to maximum pitch.
A half an hour. They had half an hour before Alec could get the woman any kind of medical help. He kept pushing huge amounts of water out of her lungs. Alec was trembling badly, the dark blue one piece suit stuck to his body, icy and stiff. Zotov helped him turn her over on her back.
It was then that Alec got the first good look at her. Her flesh was a bluish gray, indicating she had stopped breathing. With trembling hands, he tore at the zipper of the survival suit. He had to get it off her! It would only impair her chances of surviving, now an icy coffin helping to induce her body into worse hypothermia. Zotov understood. Together, they wrestled with the bulky, wet material, stripping her out of it. Zotov retrieved the thermal recovery capsule and placed her in it.
Why was he doing this? Alec thought. Why was he risking his entire career—his life—for her? He tipped her head back, that mass of red hair spread like a limp halo about her. He saw copper-colored freckles across her cheeks and realized in anguish just how beautifully sculpted her lips really were. Trying to get a pulse at her throat and finding none, Alec knew he must do CPR if he was to even have a chance of saving her.
Even as the helo returned to the Udaloy, Alec continued to perform CPR. He tirelessly pumped on her chest to try and get her heart started, and blew his breath into her. He lost track of time, as he always did in an emergency. She became his sole focus, his entire reason for being. As he fitted his mouth to her slack lips, he envisioned not only his breath entering her, but his will for her to live flowing into her slender body at the same time.
Come on, fight back! Do you hear me? Fight back! Where is the fire that shows in your hair? Show it to me! Show it!
Several minutes before Mizin landed the Helix on the aft end of the destroyer, Alec felt a pulse. With a cry of elation, he watched her fine, thin nostrils quiver. He placed his hand on her chest, feeling a trembling, shallow inhalation on her part. He grinned triumphantly up at Zotov, who smiled back. Beneath the survival suit, the woman had worn a heavy pair of white cotton longjohns. They, too, were soaked, but Alec left them on as he and Zotov wrapped her in the thermal capsule once again.
As they landed and the deck crew placed the tie-down chains on the four wheels to stop the Helix from being tossed overboard into the sea, Alec quickly made sure the thermal unit fit snugly around the woman. Her flesh was frighteningly cold, and he knew she would have to be treated immediately for hypothermia. If she wasn’t warmed up, her heart would stop beating again.
Zotov jerked the door open. To Alec’s relief, two medical corpsmen waited with a stretcher just outside the aircraft. The rotors were slowing, the engine turned off. Alec ignored the curious looks of the sailors and those officers who gathered at a safe distance from the helicopter. With Zotov’s help, he transferred the woman to the stretcher and issued orders to have her taken immediately to the dispensary. He followed close behind, soaked to the skin and freezing as never before.
Entering the destroyer from a nearby hatch, Alec was on the heels of the corpsmen. They hurried, lifting their feet high above each hatchway, the passage narrow and confined. What had he done? The ship’s captain, Denisov, had never given permission to affect a rescue, much less bring the American woman on board. As cold as Alec was physically, the pit of his stomach tightened considerably—but it was with fear. Fear for his own career for making a decision of this magnitude on his own, without proper authority.
Chapter Two
ALEC REFUSED TO leave the red-haired woman, choosing instead to wait in Dr. Antoli Ryback’s office until she was stabilized. She would have to be stripped out of her wet longjohns, dressed in a cotton gown and then placed back in the thermal capsule in order to slowly elevate her body temperature.
A half an hour later, Ryback ordered Alec into the dispensary. The lean physician stood at the woman’s bedside, a scowl on his narrow features as Alec approached.
“Tell me what happened to her out there,” he demanded as he placed an IV into her right arm.
In a few succinct sentences, Alec told him. He couldn’t tear his gaze from the woman’s slack features. She wasn’t beautiful, but rather, intriguing looking. Alec forced himself to remain unaffected so that Ryback wouldn’t realize his personal interest in her.
“You’d best go see Captain Denisov now. I’m sure he’ll want the full story on your heroic rescue effort,” Ryback said wryly. “This sounds like a golden opportunity, Comrade.”
“Oh?”
“Of course. The Soviets did a good turn for the Americans. You rescued one of their people.” He placed the stethoscope against her gowned chest, listening to the woman’s lungs, a satisfied expression on his face. “She’s going to be fine, so don’t look so concerned, my friend. Go, change uniforms and then speak to our captain. I’m sure she’ll regain consciousness by the time you return to check on her.”
Faintly embarrassed by Ryback’s perceptiveness, Alec nodded. As he turned away, he told himself that Ryback was a doctor, therefore more closely attuned to the pulse beat of human actions and reactions. Had his concerns for the woman really been that apparent? As he stepped into the narrow passageway, Alec absently rubbed his chest. Would he return in time to see her awaken? What was her name? Where did she come from? What had possessed her to take on that Japanese catcher? Her courage stunned him. They were but a few of the many questions that plagued Alec as he headed down the passageway deep in thought.
* * *
ABBY JERKED AWAKE. Where was she? Where? The room where she was laying was dark except for a red light on the bulkhead, throwing a crimson wash across the small, neatly kept space. Everything was made of metal, except for the curtain beside her bed. Coughing violently, she pressed her fingers to her raw throat. It was then that she became aware that someone was sitting near her bedside. Abby’s eyes widened enormously and her heart pounded unevenly. A man in an unfamiliar uniform was sitting quietly observing her. His eyes held exhaustion and interest in them as he regarded her with a slight, tentative smile. He reached out and turned on a small lamp beside the bed.
“Dr. Abby Fielding?”
She blinked and struggled into a sitting position, feeling dizzy. “Y-Yes?”
“I’m Second Captain Aleksandr Rostov. I want to welcome you aboard the Udaloy, a Soviet naval destroyer. Please don’t look so frightened. You are our guest. A friend.”
Abby stared at him, his words slowly sinking into her spongy mind. “You…” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion, “…you rescued me out there. My God, I thought I was going to die.”
Alec slowly rose, not wanting to cause more fear than what was presently mirrored in her lovely blue eyes. “You came very close to death, Doctor.” He smiled warmly, trying to disarm her wariness. Her hair lay in wild abandon around her shoulders. She needed to shower to wash the stiff salt brine out of those copper-colored tresses. Placing his hands against the steel tubing around her bed, he added, “Your defiance, your fight, saved you from drowning.”
Suddenly emotional because his voice was gentle with understanding, Abby clung to his dark brown gaze. “My defiance got me into a collision with that Japanese catcher. I thought it would turn aside like it had in previous days, but it didn’t.” She touched her throat, the raw feeling uncomfortable. “You saved my life. I was going down for the count.” Quickly wiping away tears at the corners of her eyes, she asked, “What about the Argonaut crew, Captain? Are they okay?”
“We’ve got the Argonaut in tow behind us. Captain Stratman and the two crew members are staying on board with a dewatering pump we’ve loaned them. The trawler sustained some hull damage and with our help, they have the leak under control. They’re fine. You were the only one who was injured.” When he saw her alarm turn to relief, he added, “We’re taking you to your Coast Guard base in the Kodiak Islands for repairs. Once we reach the U.S. twelve-mile limit, a Coast Guard cutter will take tow of your trawler. At that time, we’ll transfer you to the cutter, too.”
“Good….” Abby whispered. “And my whales? That pod of humpback whales? Did they get away?”
“There is a happy ending for everyone except the Japanese whaling fleet, who came up with no catch. Your whales are safe.”
Relief cascaded through Abby. When she opened her eyes, she melted beneath his interested inspection of her. “I’m on board a Soviet ship?”
“Yes. As our guest,” Alec stressed.
Suddenly nervous in Alec’s presence, Abby nodded. “Thank you so much.” She gripped his hand that was resting on the tubing. It was a strong, powerful hand belonging to a man who obviously didn’t sit behind a desk any more than necessary. There was an incredible sense of strength about the officer, and yet he was treating her as if she were a frightened child, with gentleness and understanding.
Alec didn’t move, the coolness of Abby’s fingertips brushing the back of his hand. Her touch had been fleeting. Pulverizing. His heartbeat soared. “Are all Americans like you?” he asked as she removed her hand.
“Like what? Willing to risk their lives for whales?”
His mouth curved into a grin. “Perhaps that also. No, you reached out and touched me. Is that an American thing to do?”
With a little laugh, Abby said, “I’m afraid so.” She hesitated. “I should amend that answer. Some of us don’t let decorum stand in our way of reaching out and touching a person. Although,” she said wryly, “it’s more of a western custom than an eastern one.”
Cocking his head, Alec absorbed her breathy laughter. Her blue eyes no longer looked dazed. Instead, he discovered gold highlights of amusement in them. “I’ve never met an American before. You must first forgive me for the endless questions I will ask you. I’m the navigation officer on board, but I studied communications, so my curiosity comes from a personal as well as professional level.”
Abby gasped. “You’re a public-relations officer?”
He was shocked by how easily she showed emotion, but oddly, Alec enjoyed the unexpected discovery. “Not exactly.”
“Still, you have the background. Then you can help me!”
For the first time in a long time, Alec laughed—fully and deeply. “I doubt many could refuse you, Dr. Fielding.”
“Please call me Abby. I can’t stand formality.”
“I’ve already gotten that impression. Then you may call me Alec, if you choose.”
He had a wonderful name, Abby thought. She liked the dancing highlights in his eyes and his ability to parry her lightning-quick exchanges. “I’d better slow down,” she said more to herself than him. “It’s my red hair. It’s always getting me into trouble.” Touching her cheeks, she smiled up at him. “I’d better finish my explanation about Americans being so open and friendly. I’ve found that people born in the western part of the country are far more friendly and trusting than those born in the east. I was born in La Jolla, California, and where I was raised, it was the thing to do.”
“I see. So, reaching out and touching me was a normal thing to do, even though I’m a stranger?”
She made a face. “Well…not every stranger. You have a trusting face. Besides, you saved my life. That should merit a hug of gratitude, too.”
For an instant, Alec wanted to suggest something far more intimate. The idea shocked even him, for he had been raised in a very strict, disciplined environment. “I think I like these western people from America,” he teased. “Before we go further, how do you feel? Are you hungry?”
Excited about Alec and his friendliness, Abby had forgotten about her own condition. She stopped, took internal stock of herself, and then said, “I’m starving, and I feel fine, except for a sore throat.”
“You swallowed a lot of seawater.” She had a lovely, long neck, and he ached to reach out and lightly trail his fingers along its length.
Abby said nothing as the experience and the fear came back to her. “I—I almost died.”
“Yes,” Alec whispered. “A terrible loss if that had happened.”
Struck by the emotion in his husky voice, Abby studied his closed, unreadable face. Alec couldn’t disguise the feeling in his voice, however, and she allowed his comment to pass without reaction. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Is there any water around? I’m dying of thirst.”
“Of course.” Alec busied himself getting her a glass of water from the examination room next door. She had suddenly paled when she realized she had almost died. Dr. Ryback had asked Alec to remain with Abby, the physician hadn’t wanted her to wake up alone in a strange place. Alec had willingly volunteered and had gotten the choice assignment mainly because he was one of the few men on board who spoke fluent English. Picking up the phone attached to the bulkhead of the examination room, he called mess. Letting the chief steward know that he wasn’t going to dine with the other officers as usual, he then ordered two trays of food to be brought to the dispensary.
He returned to Abby’s bedside and handed her the large glass of water. She drank the entire contents. Alec motioned to a small room. “There is a shower in there. I have food being prepared and brought to us. Perhaps you would like to clean up before you eat?”
Abby leapt at his idea. “Yes, I’d love to, thank you.” She wrinkled her nose as she looked down at the coarse white gown she wore. “I smell awful!”
Unable to stop the smile, Alec released the tubing from one side of the bed. The IV had been taken out previously, so she was fully mobile once again. “I didn’t notice that the gown detracted from you,” he told her wryly. “Beauty transcends such things.”
Heat stung Abby’s cheeks. She liked the officer’s dry sense of humor. “Our American men could learn something from you,” she said, placing her legs across the bed, the deck cool beneath her bare feet.
It was time to leave, but Alec hesitated at the hatch. “You must tell me more of what that means while we eat our dinner later. I’ll be in Dr. Ryback’s office, waiting for you. Captain Stratman had your luggage brought over.” He pointed to it sitting in the corner next to her bed. “Once you’ve showered and dressed, come join me.”
Abby nodded and watched as the officer pulled the hatch partially closed to give her privacy. For a moment, she sat on the bed, just getting used to the ship’s rolling movement. The deck tilted slightly one way, and then the other. The Argonaut, because of its small size, had been like a small cork on the Bering Sea, so the destroyer was infinitely more stable in comparison. Still, the dizziness came and went, and she didn’t want to risk further injury by being too spontaneous about sliding off the bed too soon.
An hour later, she appeared at the entrance to Dr. Ryback’s office. Alec immediately stood up from behind the desk, which, like all the furniture, was bolted to the deck so it couldn’t be tossed around. When she stepped hesitantly across the hatch, Alec’s eyes widened in appreciation. Although Abby’s hair was still damp, it hung in shining copper curls about her shoulders. She wore a pair of decidedly old blue jeans that lovingly outlined her long legs. The sweatshirt had the endangered minke whale emblazoned on it.
“Come,” Alec invited, “sit down. Our steward just brought us these dinner trays.”
Abby chose a metal chair near the desk. “I’m so starved I could eat sushi!”
Alec brought the tray over to her. Abby’s long fingers curved delicately around the edges of the tray. There was little about her, Alec decided, that wasn’t beautiful or graceful. “Sushi? What is that?” He went back to his seat behind the desk and took the cover off his tray.
“Raw fish. Everyone eats it over in Japan, and it’s all the rage in the States now.” Abby stared down at the tray. There were two thick, greasy lengths of sausage, a slice of black bread, some boiled cabbage and a thin, watery soup with more cabbage floating in it.
Alec watched Abby’s mobile features. Her fine, thin eyebrows drew into a worried line as she studied the contents on her tray. “And you prefer raw food to cooked food?” he wondered aloud. Was that why she was looking disappointed?
“Uhhh…no, as a matter of fact, I can’t stand sushi. My friend Susan Stone, who lives across the hall from me with her daughter, loves it. We went to her boss’s home a month ago for a dinner party.” Abby lifted her head and managed a weak smile. “I didn’t realize it was a sushi party, and neither did Susan.”
“You couldn’t eat it?”
She shivered. “Ugh! No way.”
Alec waited for her to take the first bite. That was proper dinner etiquette, to allow the lady to begin eating first. He was starving, so he silently wished that Abby would begin eating her meal. However, he was too polite, too much of a gentleman, to suggest such a thing to her. “And so, did you starve that night?”
With a roll of her eyes, Abby laughed. “I grabbed Susan and we sneaked into the kitchen. The caterer made me a peanut butter sandwich instead. Susan’s a wonderful friend,” Abby said with feeling. “She puts up with me and my many eccentricities.”
Patience was something Alec had by heritage. He watched as Abby’s hands moved gracefully as she talked. She was never still. “Then,” he said tactfully, “this meal should appeal to you. Nothing is raw or uncooked.” With more pride, he added, “The food you are about to eat is served only to the officers on board. Meat is a very rare commodity for us, and the steward has given you a double portion. Please, eat.”
Distressed, Abby took her spoon and tried the thin soup. It was bland, with no hint of seasoning, just a slight taste of cabbage flavor to the broth. She saw the officer watching her, almost hawklike. “It’s good. Really good,” she lied.
Unsure, Alec picked up his silverware and began to eat methodically. “While you were showering, I talked to First Captain Denisov, the commander of our destroyer. The seas are calming down, and he anticipates we’ll reach Kodiak in five days.”
“Good,” Abby said, finishing off the small bowl of soup. She took her fork and moved it through the heaping strands of cut and boiled cabbage. It was dripping in grease, and she hesitated.
“Is there something wrong with the food?”
Abby chewed on her lower lip and chanced a look at the officer. “I—well, it’s awfully greasy. You know—cholesterol.”
“I beg your pardon?”
She laid the limp cabbage back on the tray and put the fork aside. “In America, half the deaths each year are due to heart attacks because we eat too much meat, and too many other foods with high cholesterol in them. The fat clogs your arteries and gives you heart problems.” She gave a delicate shrug and her voice became apologetic. “I’m sorry, I just can’t eat the cabbage or sausage, Alec. It’s too greasy. And besides that, I’m a strict vegetarian.”
Frowning, he tried to table his hurt over her decision not to eat the costly and rare meat. “A vegetarian?”
“Yes. I don’t eat any kind of meat, including seafood. I eat lots of other things, though,” Abby said quickly, seeing that his features mirrored injury. “Rice, bread, any kind of fruits, vegetables, lots of salads, nuts and things like that.” She watched as he grew more distressed. “I’m sorry. I imagine it’s tough to keep lots of fresh fruits and vegetables on board. You’ve done your best to feed me. It’s my problem.”
“No, you need to eat something.”
“The soup and bread are fine. Really.” With a slight smile, Abby added, “Did you know half the people in my country are overweight?”
Alec motioned to her. “That may be so, but you’re too thin.” He was confused by her explanation, thinking Americans had strange ideas about food and health customs.
Abby looked down at herself. “I know. Susan gets on me about that all the time. But I’m so busy with SOWF matters that I’m constantly traveling. And when I travel, I don’t eat much.”
Getting up, Alec brought his bowl of soup over to her, plus a thick slice of black bread. “I won’t be responsible for you losing any more weight, then. Here, eat these. The bread is rich and nutritious. I’ll order more if you like.”
Touched, Abby took his offering without protest. Alec could have rightfully acted rebuffed by her eccentric eating habits, but he didn’t. She watched as he ordered her another large bowl of soup and four more slices of the black bread. Not wanting to appear more ungrateful, she began to eat in earnest, even though the soup was little more than water. If Alec considered the food he ate as an officer good, what on earth did the crew eat?
After the meal, Abby was pleasantly full. The trays were taken away by a teenage steward with sandy hair. He tried to glance at her inconspicuously, without appearing rude about his curiosity. When he left, Alec grinned.
“You know you are a celebrity on the ship, don’t you?”
“No.”
“There are no women on board, and so when the crew found out we had rescued a red-haired American woman, the rumors began to fly. This young steward will go back to his quarters after his watch and tell everyone how he actually saw you, that you aren’t a rumor at all, but very much alive and beautiful.”
“I feel very pampered and cared for, Alec. Thanks to you.”
He smiled and barely tipped his head in her direction. “So, let me show you to your quarters. Captain Stratman has asked that when you feel like it, he’d like to talk to you on the radio. I can take you up to the bridge after we deliver your luggage to your quarters.”