Scoundrel's Honor (Russian Connection 3)

“Why?”

Rajih shifted his hand to run his fingers through her hair, his touch gentle and yet possessive.

“To steal you away, of course.”

“Absurd.”

“There is nothing absurd in his determination to have you as his own.” The dark eyes flashed with annoyance. “Nothing will deter him.”

Emma folded her arms across her waist. Why was her senseless heart fluttering with excitement? She was still far from convinced that she was the reason that Dimitri had traveled to Cairo. Or that if he had followed her it was anything more than wounded male pride.

She would lay odds that the man had never had a woman willingly leave his bed. Not, at least, until he was done with the affair. And it would only make it wor

se that Emma had left with another man.

“If he is foolish enough to believe he can simply carry me off I shall soon disabuse him,” she muttered.

He gently tugged her hair, his gaze scrutinizing her pale face. “Will you?”

“So far as I am concerned Dimitri Tipova is no better than any other man,” she snapped. “He is willing to use me for his own pleasure without concern for my needs.”

“Do not condemn all men, habiba.”

She wrinkled her nose at the realization she had been excessively rude to the man who had offered her nothing but kindness.

“It is not a matter of condemning men, Rajih, but an acceptance that I would be a fool to depend upon anyone but myself.” She touched his arm, a sadness settling in her heart. “I have been disappointed on too many occasions to offer my trust.”

A silence settled over the gardens, filled only by the splash of the fountain and the soft flutter of wings as a bird settled on a nearby sycamore branch. Emma shifted uneasily, unnerved by his steady gaze. It was almost as if Rajih was attempting to see into her very soul.

“A reluctance to trust does not mean you have managed to banish Tipova from your heart,” he said softly. “Your vehement reaction suggests that you still harbor feelings for the man.”

Heat stained her cheeks. “I harbor a desire to have him carried into the desert and eaten by the jackals.”

Rajih’s lips twisted. “Ah, habiba, I regret I am incapable of inspiring such passion.”

She frowned at his words. Had he not just heard her claim that she desired Dimitri to be eaten by jackals?

“Anger and passion are not at all the same.”

“You are very innocent.”

Anger sliced through her at his patronizing tone. With a sharp movement she brushed aside his lingering hand and stepped back.

“If that is a kind means of saying that I am stupid I readily agree.”

Rajih shook his head. “I mean precisely what I said. There’s a genuine purity about you that will remain untarnished no matter what happens in your life.” He shrugged, his gaze skimming down her slender body. “Unfortunate for you, of course.”

“Why unfortunate?”

“Because it is destined to attract the worst sort of bounders and scoundrels.” Then he reached for her, pulling her hard against his sculpted torso. “You are irresistible to those of us with jaded hearts.”

“Rajih.”

He pressed a finger to her lips, sensing her reluctance.

“I will not press you, habiba, but I do demand a promise.”

“A promise?”