Scoundrel's Honor (Russian Connection 3)

“Emma Linley-Kirov is an honored guest on this ship and if I discover a member of my crew has offered her anything less than utter respect they will be tossed overboard and left for the fish to enjoy. Do you comprehend?”

Sweat glistened on Andrew’s forehead despite the noticeable chill in the air.

“Aye.”

“Good. It would be unfortunate if there were any misunderstandings.”

“There will be no misunderstandings.”

“Then I believe we are ready to cast off.”

“At once.”

Stumbling over his own feet in his haste to obey Dimitri’s command, Andrew headed toward the bow of the ship. Dimitri watched his departure as he regained command of his temper.

He had not been boasting. He would personally punish any man who dared to offer Emma an insult.

Refusing to consider why he still itched to pummel the large sailor, Dimitri at last turned on his heel and made his way to the lower cabins. With each step his annoyance transformed into a burgeoning sense of anticipation.

The past three days had been sheer hell. His empire might be made of thieves and scoundrels, but that did not make his responsibilities any less demanding. He had to ensure all his various businesses were operating smoothly before leaving the country. And of course, there had been the constant concern that Emma might foolishly attempt to slip away before he had completed his plans. The woman was as unpredictable as she was stubborn.

Most disturbing of all, however, had been the sleepless nights he had paced the floor of his bedchamber, his body on fire with the need to have Emma in his arms.

His pace quickened as he pushed open the door to his private cabin and stripped off his heavy coat, tossing it on the wide bunk. The room was built along the same sleek lines as the ship with table and chairs beneath the port hole and a chest of drawers attached to the paneled wall. He paused long enough to straighten his dove-gray jacket before heading toward the door that opened into the connecting cabin.

For a moment he stood in the doorway, his gaze unerringly finding Emma’s slender body poised in front of the port hole as she watched St. Petersburg disappear into the mist. He would be able to sense her presence if he were blind.

The cabin was similar in design to his own, although constructed on a smaller scale as befitted a servant. Not that it mattered. Emma’s place was at his side. And in his bed. And that was exactly where she was headed.

He stepped forward, his blood heating despite the ugly brown gown that offended his senses. He knew precisely what was hidden beneath the woolen layers.

“Surely you cannot be missing your home so soon?” he asked.

He heard Emma’s gasp of horror as she spun around to regard him with an expression of stark disbelief.

“You.”

Strolling forward, he flicked a finger over her pale cheek. “Yes, it is I.”

Her lips parted, but it took a moment before she could speak.

“What are you doing here?” she at last managed.

“I did warn you that I intended to hunt down the Katherine Marie.”

“No, you said you would send one of your servants in search of the ship.”

His fingers shifted to tug the pins from her hair, breathing deeply of her warm scent as the honey curls tumbled about her shoulders. It did not matter if she were dressed in rags—she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

“Ah, well, that was when I had hopes of a warm, delectable female to keep me distracted.”

He felt her tremble, but her hazel eyes flashed with a predictable fury.

“And you wish me to believe that it was mere coincidence that you happened to choose the same ship as I did?”

“It is not so difficult to comprehend.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, his body swaying in tempo with hers as the ship left the harbor and headed into open water. “This is the only ship currently bound for England that accepts passengers.”

“And the cabin that connects to mine was the only one available?”