Scoundrel's Honor (Russian Connection 3)

Or at least she told herself that it was curiosity.

Any other explanation was too dangerous to ponder.

“Why are you here?” she rasped, stepping into the pool of light from the nearby torch.

“Emma,” he breathed, his expression impossible to read as his golden gaze swept over her. “Unlock the gate.”

“No.” She wrapped her arms around her waist, feeling oddly vulnerable in the loose silk robes, her hair tumbling about her shoulders. “Please answer my question.”

“You know why I am here, moya dusha.” His husky voice brushed over her like a caress, shivers of unwelcome pleasure racing through her. “I came for you.”

“Then you have made a wasted journey.”

“I would travel twice as far to be near you.”

“That would be quite charming if I did not know you so well, Dimitri.”

His lips twisted. “Somehow I do not think that a compliment.”

“You did not follow me. If you are here, then it is for your own purpose.” She took a step closer. “Did Sanderson manage to escape from your grasp?”

“So far as I know he is still in the custody of King George and his guards, although Huntley promised he would be taken to St. Petersburg to be questioned by Alexander Pavlovich.”

She frowned, unable to accept he would allow Sanderson out of his sight before he was certain Count Nevskaya had been publicly humiliated.

“Then…” Her puzzlement disappeared as she was struck by a sudden thought. “Ah. Of course.”

He narrowed his gaze, as if sensing he was not going to be pleased with what she had to say.

“Of course?”

“You will have need of Valik.” She shrugged. “He is the obvious liaison between your father and Lord Sanderson. With his testimony there is no one who can doubt Count Nevskaya’s guilt.”

“It is true I intend to locate Valik.” He lifted a hand to halt her angry words. “But only because he can lead us to Anya.”

She stiffened. Did he truly believe she was so gullible?

“It is too late to feign concern for my sister. You could have rescued her in London, but you chose your obsession for revenge.”

His expression hardened at her accusation. “I could defend myself by pointing out that by exposing my father, as well as Lord Sanderson and his cronies, I prevented a number of innocent girls from suffering the same fate as your sister.”

Emma glared, not willing to listen to his arguments.

“Just go away, Dimitri.”

His grip tightened on the gate, his eyes flashing with a warning that sent a chill down her spine.

“You will never be rid of me, Emma,” he swore. “It does not matter where you go or how far you run, I will always be near.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

EMMA SPENT THE NEXT DAY pacing through the harem, torn between the fear that Dimitri might actually storm the palace and attempt to take her by force, and a treacherous disappointment when he did not so much as make an appearance.

She was clearly losing what few wits she had left, she told herself. Dimitri Tipova had made his choice in London. Just as she had made hers.

There was nothing left for them to say.

As night began to fall she pulled on a silken robe in a soft shade of ivory that was richly embroidered with silver thread and tiny emeralds. Her curls were still damp from her bath and she left them loose to flow down her back. Then, with a dab of the jasmine oil that Rajih had sent to the harems that morning, she stepped into the gardens.