Scoundrel's Honor (Russian Connection 3)

“Yes. Can you discover if they have arrived?”

“Do you have the name of the slavers?”

“Valik.”

“Russian.” The secretary nodded, his absent expression revealing he was already considering the best means of acquiring the information Dimitri demanded. “That should narrow my inquiries. I will begin immediately.”

“Stanislav?” Dimitri called as the man opened the door and prepared to leave the room.

“Yes?”

“I prefer discretion, but do whatever necessary to locate the girls.”

“If they are in Cairo, they will be found, that I can assure you,” the younger man promised without hesitation.

Dimitri smiled. “Czar Alexander is fortunate in his choice of diplomats.”

DIMITRI WAITED UNTIL THE sun was setting before he made his way on foot through the crowded streets of Cairo to Caliph Rajih’s palace.

With his dark coloring and traditional robes, he easily blended with the natives, capable of moving through the pedestrians without attracting attention. Not that his robes made him invisible. Unfortunate, since he had not had the need to sneak past guards since he was a lad.

Trusting his youthful skills, he slid along the high wall surrounding the palace, using the shadows to conceal his presence from the numerous guards. Then, reaching the back mews, he climbed over the wooden gate and dropped onto the cobbled yard near the stables.

A wry smile touched his lips as he realized he had managed to knock over a small marble statue, a mistake he would never have made as a lad, but at least he hadn’t broken his fool neck. And for the moment, he hadn’t alerted the entire

household to his intrusion.

Aware his luck could change at any moment, he made his way to the gardens. His visits to Cairo taught him the women’s quarters would be placed at the back of the house and surrounded by yet another wall. Egyptian men were fiercely protective of their females.

Actually, he had always considered them well beyond protective. They were insanely obsessed with keeping their wives secluded.

He was dedicated to keeping women safeguarded, but why would a man desire a harem? The various females who drifted in and out of his life were enjoyable enough, but he had never felt compelled to lock them in his home. He had enough duties without adding a large number of wives he would have to tend to for the rest of their lives.

No, he had no urge to keep a female as his prisoner.

Not unless that female was Emma Linley-Kirov, a treacherous voice whispered in the back of his mind.

Clenching his teeth, Dimitri crushed the fury that threatened to overwhelm him.

From what he could discover Emma had gone willingly with the caliph aboard his ship. In fact, the dockhands they had questioned in London had been adamant in their assurance that the female in Rajih’s company had not only been a willing companion, but had frequently urged him to hurry.

She would not be at all pleased if he intruded upon the household, tossing about demands and hauling her away from the palace.

For now he had no choice but to try and convince Emma that he was far more capable of assisting her in retrieving Anya than the caliph.

Hardly an easy task considering she held him responsible for allowing her sister to be taken from London.

Circling the shallow pond surrounded by lotus plants, Dimitri had just caught sight of the grilled gate that separated the women’s quarters when a rustle had him spinning toward the fountain in the center of the courtyard.

His gaze narrowed as a dark, slender man with black hair and matching eyes stepped into view. Dimitri knew at once that it was Caliph Rajih. What other man would wear robes so richly trimmed? Or carry himself with the sort of arrogance that made Dimitri long to pummel his too-handsome face?

A mocking smile tugged at the man’s lips as he offered a low bow.

“Welcome, Dimitri Tipova, I have been expecting you.”

Swallowing a curse, Dimitri folded his arms over his chest and hid his frustration behind a mask of polite indifference.

“How very disappointing. I had not realized I was so predictable.”