Scoundrel's Honor (Russian Connection 3)

“Surely we should be discussing how we are to escape?” she demanded, watching the light flickering beyond the carriage window. How much farther to the mosque? Surely they had to be close?

Dimitri firmly turned her face back to meet his ruthless scrutiny.

“Why did you remain in the attics, Emma?”

“Because Anya locked the door behind her,” she snapped. “Are you satisfied?”

Emma was not surprised by the furious outrage that rippled over his beautiful face. Dimitri Tipova might be considered a criminal by most, but he possessed an unwavering sense of honor and a loyalty to those who depended on him. He would consider Anya’s abandonment the worst sort of treachery.

“No, I am damned well not satisfied,” he growled, a violent anger glittering in his eyes. “Do you mean to tell me that the ungrateful brat not only deserted you so that she could flee with her lover, but that she blocked a means for you to escape even knowing you were to be sold as a whore?”

Emma shrugged, weary of the bitter disappointment that spilled through her heart like acid.

“It no longer matters.”

“When I manage to capture that bitch—”

“Please, Dimitri,” she husked, unwilling to hear his opinion of Anya.

“I do not care if she is your sister or not, if she ever hurts you again, she will answer to me.”

“She was my family,” she reminded him, telling herself that his fierce threat did not send a jolt of satisfaction through her. She could surely not be so petty. “Now I am alone.”

The raven brows lifted at her husky words. “Is that a jest?”

“It is the truth.”

His jaw tightened, revealing an unexpected annoyance. Why? With both her parents dead and Anya gone, there was no one left in her life.

“Then you must inform Herrick Gerhardt who has publicly claimed you as his cousin, as well as Vanya who considers you a beloved friend.” His voice held a sardonic bite. “Ah, yes, and there is Leonida who threatened unmentionable harm on my manhood if I did not return you unharmed to the Huntley town house.”

“It is not the same as—”

“I suppose I should also include Caliph Rajih, may his soul rot in hell, who is willing to risk the displeasure of this pasha to make you his wife,” he relentlessly overrode her protest.

Her cheeks burned. A part of her accepted that Dimitri was not merely offering false comfort. Since leaving Yabinsk she had discovered that there were truly good people in the world willing to offer her assistance. Still, after so many years of having no one but herself to depend upon, it was difficult to put her trust in others.

“He is not thinking clearly,” she said.

“No, he is not.” The golden eyes flashed with an unnerving determination. “If he was, then he would know that you belong to me.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs as she jerked away from his lingering touch.

“I do not belong to you, Dimitri Tipova.”

“Of course you do.” He settled back in his seat, his arms folded across his chest. “You are not alone, Emma. Not ever again.”

A perilous yearning tugged at her heart. He could so easily make her weak when she needed to be strong.

Stronger than she had ever been in her life.

“Do you have a plan for our escape or not?” she rasped.

His frustrated sigh filled the carriage. “It is more of a bargain than a plan. Josef is waiting for us at the mosque with money that I will offer to Valik for our freedom.”

She frowned, wondering if he were disguising his true plan.

“You intend to bribe him?”