Scoundrel's Honor (Russian Connection 3)

His breath hissed through teeth at the exquisite sensations that jolted through his body. She was glorious. An enticing, splendid woman who had denied her own needs for far too long.

“Emma,” he husked, his hips pulling gently back before sinking back into her welcoming body. “My sweet Emma.”

“Yes,” she sobbed, her nails raking down his back.

The tiny shock of pain was like a spark to his very short fuse. With a groan of surrender he lost himself in the pagan tempo that was as ancient and powerful as the sea churning beneath them.

CHAPTER TEN

EMMA SHIVERED AS Dimitri’s ship slid silently through the eastern entrance basin into the Thames River.

It was a gray afternoon with a sharp breeze, but the docks were overflowing with ships vying to unload their cargo at the nearby warehouses. Tea, silk, fruit and tobacco was piled on the quays while spice merchants and pepper grinders plied their trade among the vast crowd of sailors, dockhands and passengers. It all combined to create an image of colorful chaos.

At any other moment she would have been thrilled with the sights spread before her.

How often had she lain awake at night dreaming of traveling to distant lands? Or begged her father to read her stories beside the fireplace so she could imagine being far away from their tiny village?

Now, however, she couldn’t summon the proper appreciation for the busy docks, or the vast city that sprawled in the distance.

Not when her sister might be near.

Clutching the railing of the bow she leaned forward, indifferent to the breeze that tugged at her heavy wool cloak and the gray scarf she had wrapped around her head.

Too often over the past days she had allowed herself to forget the reason for her journey to England. Dimitri’s fault, of course. It was not enough that he had spent their long nights seducing her with his wicked kisses and experienced touch, but he had also consumed her days, charming her with stories of his reckless youth that revealed far more of his true self than he realized.

He was loyal and protective and generous to those he had taken beneath his wing. He was also quick to guard his heart and to keep others at a distance. He would always need to be in command of a relationship, ensuring that no one was allowed to step beyond the boundaries he set.

Including her.

As if her thoughts had conjured him into being, Dimitri appeared at her side, a scowl marring his handsome face as he studied her.

“The air is brisk,” he said. “You should return to the cabin.”

Emma swallowed a rueful sigh, her heart fluttering with an unbearable excitement as he leaned against the railing. It was more than the elegant beauty of his bronzed face and astonishing gold eyes. Or the chiseled perfection of his male body beneath the tailored jade jacket and buff breeches.

It was the ruthless sensuality and sheer male power he carried about him with such ease.

Desperately, she fought to hide her ready response to his presence behind a cool smile. She could not make herself regret the nights she had spent in Dimitri’s arms. Her destiny might be to live as a lonely spinster in a tiny Russian village, but she would have memories that would keep her warm for years to come.

Still, she could not allow the madness to continue.

Not only did she need to concentrate on discovering her sister, but she would not become a source of amused gossip once they were settled in London. It was one thing to be known as Dimitri’s lover by his trusted servants, and quite another to have strangers speculating at her uncharacteristic behavior.

“And miss my first glimpse of London?” she demanded. “Do not be silly.”

His scowl deepened at the cool edge in her voice. “The docks are hardly worth the risk of consumption. They are as foul and rat-infested as any other dock to be found in the world.”

“Not all of us are jaded travelers who are incapable of appreciating the novelty of arriving in a city I never dreamed I would one day visit.” She shrugged, ignoring the fact that she was shivering beneath her cloak. “Besides, it is no colder than it was in St. Petersburg.”

With a sound of impatience, he grasped her arms and turned her to meet his searching gaze.

“You have no interest in London. You are hoping that your sister will be standing upon the docks, awaiting you to rescue her.”

Her lips thinned with annoyance. It was bothersome that he could read her so easily.

“Whatever your opinion of my intellect, I am not entirely stupid,” she snapped. “But neither am I willing to be hidden away when Anya has need of me.”

His hands skimmed up her arms with an intimate gesture of possession.