Scoundrel's Honor (Russian Connection 3) - Page 53

“I do not speak of regret, merely a return to sanity.” It took more effort than she cared to admit to knock his hand away. “I have traveled to England to find my sister, not to indulge in a meaningless affair.”

His beautiful features hardened. “I assume you are deliberately attempting to stir my anger?”

She squared her shoulders, refusing to be browbeaten. “Why would you be angered? I am not the first woman who you have bedded, nor will I be the last. I should think you would be relieved that I am not so absurd as to attempt and cling to you.”

“Instead you claim me to be meaningless and toss me from your bed?” His voice was as cold as the winter wind.

A treacherous part of her wanted to believe he was hurt by her rejection. Perhaps even distressed at the knowledge he would never again share her bed. But Emma was nothing if not sensible.

Dimitri had no doubt found it amusing to tutor an aging spinster in the arts of love to pass the tedious voyage. What else did he have to keep him occupied? His passionate seduction, however, had included a great deal of skill with a notable lack of emotion.

Which meant the only wound he suffered was to his pride.

“No doubt your acquaintances in England include a woman willing to take my place,” she said, a matching chill in her tone.

His brows snapped together as if he were insulted by her words, but before he could speak one of the crew shouted a warning and they both turned to catch sight of the small boat being rowed in their direction.

“Emma, go below,” Dimitri commanded. Then, as she stubbornly remained at the railing, he turned to grasp her hands in his. “Please, moya dusha.”

She held his unwavering gaze for a long moment, frustrated by his continual attempts to keep her sheltered. But even as she told herself she was not going to be dismissed as if she were a mindless child, she caught sight of Dimitri’s nod toward his gathering crew.

He would have the rowboat turned aside before he allowed the strangers to board the boat with her on the deck.

With a glare that warned of dire retribution, Emma spun on her heel and marched toward the stairs that led to the cabins below.

It was not that she did not appreciate Dimitri’s concern. In truth, it had been so long since anyone had considered the possibility she might need protection that she could not deny the treacherous warmth that filled her heart.

Thankfully she was wise enough to understand the danger of undermining her hard-won independence. Dimitri was a passing presence in her life. Once she had rescued Anya they would return to Yabinsk and she would once again be alone to shoulder her responsibilities.

Besides, she instinctively prickled at the suspicion Dimitri desired to transform her into a helpless female that depended utterly on him. She could never become such a creature.

Deliberately she moved through the cabin she had shared with Dimitri and into the connected chamber. She would not allow herself to be distracted by memories of being seated before the built-in dresser as Dimitri brushed her hair, or her giggling pleasure as he had slowly and thoroughly bathed her in the copper tub, or the strength of his arms as he had carried her to the narrow bed.

Pacing the floor, Emma forced her thoughts to Anya. Dear Lord, please let her be near, she silently prayed. And let her be unharmed.

A surprisingly short period of time passed before she heard the sound of Dimitri’s approaching footsteps. Turning, she watched as he entered the cramped space, his dark features unreadable.

“Has something happened?” she demanded.

“The Katherine Marie docked this morning.”

She frowned. Dimitri had been confident they could outrun his father’s bulkier ship, but only days out of port they had been hit by a storm that had thrown them off course and damaged the mast. Obviously, the delays had meant they’d arrived later than Dimitri had planned, but Emma could think of nothing beyond her vast relief that the Katherine Marie had made it safely to harbor, and that she hadn’t been mistaken about the destination.

“Then my sister is here,” she breathed.

“It would seem so.”

“Thank God.” She frowned at the frustration that shimmered in his golden eyes. “What is wrong?”

“Huntley placed servants on the docks to keep watch, but my father’s crew managed to unload their cargo and slip past the guards unnoticed. She could be anywhere.”

Her brief surge of hope began to fade as she realized the daunting task of searching London for a handful of girls. It could take days, even weeks. Always assuming they had not spirited Anya out of the city.

“Surely they cannot have gone far?”

As if sensing her growing distress, he moved forward to take her hands in a firm grip.

“We will find Anya,” he murmured, his warm touch and low voice enough to soothe her fears.

Tags: Rosemary Rogers Russian Connection Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024