Scoundrel's Honor (Russian Connection 3)

A dangerous tenderness swept through him. He desperately longed to scoop her in his arms and take her someplace where she could never be hurt again.

“Because those you loved and depended upon died, leaving you alone to shoulder burdens that have been far too heavy.” His thumb outlined her lower lip. “It is little wonder you protect your heart with such ferocity.”

For a brief, breathless moment Emma swayed toward him, as if he had at last managed to convince her of his sincerity. Then, with a frightened shake of her head, she again stepped back, her spine stiff.

“Please just go away.”

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; Dimitri muttered a curse, fully intending to remain precisely where he stood until he had exhausted Emma’s arguments. For all her protests he had not missed the brief glimpse of yearning he had seen shimmering in her eyes.

Emma might claim she wanted nothing more than her independence, but he had seen the truth of her heart.

It was the appearance of a robed servant who gestured at him from the arched doorway that ruined his plan.

Hurriedly hiding his disbelief behind a resigned expression, he brushed his lips over her cheek before stepping back and smoothing his tousled hair.

“Perhaps you are right,” he said.

She blinked, her defensive anger faltering beneath his unexpected capitulation.

“I beg your pardon?”

“This is not the time or place for such a discussion,” he forced himself to say.

“You are leaving?”

He smiled despite his annoyance at the ill-timed interruption. Emma could not entirely hide her disappointment at his announcement.

“It is what you desire, is it not?”

She hunched her shoulders. “Of course it is.”

With a chuckle, he leaned down to lightly kiss her lips. “Dream of me.”

He had reached the door when a delicate porcelain figurine went sailing past his head to smash against the stone wall.

“You are…impossible,” she shouted after his retreating back.

His smile remained as he followed the retreating servant toward the back of the harem.

It was odd that he had known dozens of beautiful women who were not only compliant, but eager to please him, and yet none had stirred more than a passing interest.

Perhaps fate had decided to punish him after his years of sin.

Only it did not seem like punishment. He stifled a groan as he recalled the explosive pleasure he had so recently enjoyed. For all the irritation that Emma offered, being with her was as close to paradise as a man could possibly find.

The servant slipped through a narrow door into the gardens beyond, and with an effort Dimitri shoved aside his thoughts of Emma and concentrated on the servant who slid to a halt in the shadows of the high wall surrounding the harem.

At a glance there was nothing about the veiled servant to capture his interest. There were at least a dozen females attired in precisely the same manner throughout the palace, although this particular servant was taller than most.

It was only Dimitri’s familiarity with Josef and his willingness to go to any length to slip about unnoticed that allowed him to recognize the slender Russian man. And, of course, his ugly countenance that no veil could entirely disguise.

Reaching up a hand, Josef tugged aside the thin veil, and headdress, a taunting smile curling his lips.

“Yet another satisfied lover, eh, Tipova?” he mocked. “You have a remarkable talent with women.”

“My talent does not extend to appearing as one,” Dimitri teased in return, allowing his gaze to skim down the robes his servant wore with remarkable ease. Joseph was a magnificent actor who could play any role required. “You are exquisite.”