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CHAPTER 2
June 1
The phone rang.Sky made a noise of frustration at being interrupted, frowned, and wiped off her chalk-dusted hands. She quickly picked up her cell. The late afternoon sun had shifted, giving the pristine meadow and lazy creek flowing through it a different quality of light she was trying to capture. Without much success, Sky noted. As she saw the call was from Cal, her frustration dissolved. He was probably done with his day at Shield Security and letting her know he was on his way home to her.
“Hi,” she said, a little breathless.
“Hey,” Cal said, “thought I’d give you a call. You still working with your drawing?”
Sky plopped down on the bed and smiled. “How did you know?” Cal’s sixth sense always impressed her.
“Just a guess,” he drawled. “I’m bringing home a friend of ours. What do you have planned in the way of food for tonight’s dinner?”
“A friend?” She heard a smile in Cal’s deep voice. “Lauren? Is she coming for dinner?” She was going to visit tomorrow and help her with the last fitting of her wedding dress.
“No. Someone else.”
Sky said, “I pulled some venison steaks out earlier. Why?”
“How many?”
She smiled. “Lots, Sinclair. You have a growing boy’s appetite as I recall.”
He laughed. “You are going to be very happy to see. And he’s starving for some good, red meat.”
Frowning, Sky said, “A man that I know?”
“Yeah. Alex Kazak was just hired by Jack Driscoll. He’s now officially onboard as one of our security contractors.”
Gasping, Sky leaped to her feet. “Alex? Alex is HERE? But… he was in the hospital in San Diego!” Her heart took off and joy tunneled through her. Alex Kazak, an ex-Spetsnaz Ukrainian black ops soldier, had worked with Vladimir Alexandrov’s Russian Mafia team in Cusco. All the memories of that horrible time came rushing back to Sky. Almost four months ago, she’d been captured by Vlad’s hardened ex-Spetsnaz soldiers. If not for Alex, who was a trained combat medic, she and Cal would have died. He’d turned on his feared Russian boss, helping her and Cal to escape and make it to safety. And not without peril to himself. Alex had been wounded in the leg by Cal as part of their escape plan to fool the Russians and send them in the opposite direction of their escape. Once Vlad Alexandrov found out Alex had lost Sky, he’d beaten the medic nearly to death. An American Army Special Forces three-man team had found Alex when they entered the village and saved his life. Later, Cal had pulled a lot of governmental strings, with Jack Driscoll’s help, and gotten the twenty-nine-year-old Ukraine-born soldier to the US, to Balboa Naval Hospital, where he’d been recovering.
Sky owed Alex her life. He’d been kind, gentle, and protective of her while Vlad was raging at him and trying to get past him in order to rape her. She’d fallen ill with malaria for three days in that Indian village in the Highlands of Peru, after her capture by Vlad. Alex Kazak and the other Ukrainian medic, Nik Morozov, had cared for her, getting her through it.
“Yeah, he’s here,” Call said. “Shocked me at first, but he’s going to be a good addition to our security team. I invited Alex to stay a few days with us. We’ll give him one of the guest bedrooms. You okay with that?”
“Okay? I’m fine with it! How is he doing?”
“Well, I’m looking at him right now and he’s a bit on the thin side, which is why he’s wanting some good, red meat. Otherwise, he’s the same ole Ukrainian boy we met in Peru.”
The amusement in Cal’s voice made Sky smile. “How long before you’re home?” Sky glanced at her watch. It was four p.m.
“Another hour. Lauren and I have one briefing to go,” Cal said.
“I’ll have a huge meal waiting for you and Alex. I can hardly wait to see him in person!”
Sky heard Cal pull the black SUV into the garage of their home. Still wearing an apron, Sky rushed down the stairs to meet them. When Alex emerged from the car, she called his name, hurrying in his direction, her arms open to the tall combat medic. At six foot five inches tall, Alex looked much thinner to her. But he’d been sustaining on hospital food and through several surgeries at Balboa Hospital in the last three months. His black hair was still military short, but it was the glint in his large, intelligent hazel eyes that made Sky smile.
“Alex!” she cried, throwing herself into the Ukrainian’s opening arms. He was a farm boy, he had told her proudly one time, showing her his big, calloused hands. And Sky remembered his large hands, work worn and oddly beautiful to look at when she was a captive. Alex was a man of the land and had traded in his plowshare for becoming a black ops soldier in the Russian army. His face was square, his nose broken several times. It was his broad, unlined brow, the dancing deviltry in his eyes, and that boyish grin that made tears rush to Sky’s eyes as he gently leaned down and hugged her very carefully, aware of his height and strength against her diminutive size. For being a giant, Alex was a gentle bear of a man.
“Sky,” Alex said, his deep voice choked with emotion, “you look well, my friend.”
A sob caught in Sky’s throat as she squeezed the medic as hard as she could. “Alex… I’m so glad you’re here!”
Cal smiled as he sauntered around the SUV, watching them embrace one another. He owed Alex everything. If not for his intervention and his care of Sky while she went through that hell with another bout of malaria, Cal knew they’d never have gotten out of that Indian village alive.
Sky laughed, delighted, as Alex set her back down on her feet and carefully released her. Looking up at him, she saw he was dressed casually, in Levi’s and a dark blue plaid cowboy shirt. He was even wearing a pair of highly polished black ranch boots. “Look at you,” she said, “you look like a cowboy, Alex.”
Cal slid his arm around Sky. She had a spot of white flour on her cheek. She liked to cook, but was messy, but he didn’t care. “He can walk without a limp,” Cal noted, grinning over at him.
