Scoundrel's Honor (Russian Connection 3)

“The Beggar Czar a mere employee?” He snorted in disbelief. “Don’t treat me as if I’m an idiot.”

She managed a disdainful sniff. “Obviously he had his own motives for assisting me, but they had nothing to do with being my lover. I am a proper lady.”

“Even a proper lady becomes a tart when given the opportunity.”

Heat stained her cheeks. “You are offensive.”

“And you are a liar.” He reached to grab her chin, his fingers bruising. “I saw the two of you together in that warehouse in London. The man is so besotted with you that he will go stark raving mad at the thought of you being used as a common whore. I might even let my guards have a turn or two. They so rarely get the chance to taste the wares.”

Despite her best intentions, her brittle courage faltered beneath his vile threat.

“Do you have no conscience whatsoever?” she husked.

“None. You would do well to remember that.” The carriage came to a halt and reaching beneath his jacket, Valik pulled out a pistol. With a grim expression he pointed it directly in her face. “We have arrived. I would suggest that you not fight my servant. I prefer to savor my revenge, but I will shoot you if I must.”

“I hope you rot in hell, you monster.”

“Bitch.”

THE HOUSE WAS BUILT IN a narrow street and nearly hidden behind the large palm trees. On the front a balcony hung over the street with grilled windows, no doubt used for the girls to lure potential customers. In the back a wooden pavilion was swiftly falling to ruin and a narrow alley was filled with rubbish.

It appeared to be like any other brothel in Cairo if not for the guards posted at every entrance. And, of course, the pack of mangy dogs that had nearly mauled him when he first approached the building. Dimitri had taken refuge on the side terrace, leaving Josef to deal with the savage curs.

Nearly twenty minutes later the wiry servant shimmied up the trellis to join him, his bare feet barely making a sound as he crossed the wooden terrace.

“You disposed of the dogs?” he demanded, his voice a low whisper.

Josef nodded. “The kitchen of the local café was stocked with a nice supply of meat. They were easy enough to lure away.” He gestured toward the narrow window that Dimitri had already used to enter the house and search for the girls. “What did you discover?”

“The bottom floor has four rooms. A front parlor, an office, the kitchens and a pantry. The second floor has six small bedchambers.” He grimaced. “The upper floor contains the attics, but the doors and windows are barred. I assume that if the females are here that is where they are being held.”

“Interesting.” Josef glanced over the edge of the terrace to the shadows below. “Guards?”

“Far too many for a mere brothel. I have counted five so far.”

Josef rubbed the tip of his nose, considering their few options.

“A dangerous situation. Perhaps we should wait until later in the evening. The guards will eventually seek a place to hide from the employers and enjoy a bottle of raki together.”

Dimitri chaffed at yet another delay. He wanted to expose the slavers and rescue the females so he could concentrate on Emma. Surely once he had her sister she would agree to leave the damnable harem and return to St. Petersburg where she belonged?

But he was not a fool.

If he acted too hastily he risked sending the bastards fleeing before they could be captured. Or worse. He could stumble into a trap.

Still undecided, Dimitri shifted toward the edge of the terrace as he heard a noise in the alley.

“What is that?”

Josef peered into the shadows. “A carriage.”

They both tensed, knowing that a vehicle would never willingly choose to travel through the filth of the alley unless there was a need for secrecy.

Was it possible the auction was already beginning?

He scowled, debating how long it would take to convince the authorities to send soldiers. It would be far more efficient to gather his own servants and attack the brothel. Unfortunately, he was not certain that the pasha would approve of a foreigner shedding blood on the streets of Cairo.

Not when the gentlemen attending the auction were quite likely wealthy citizens who could create any number of political difficulties.