Scoundrel's Honor (Russian Connection 3)

Dimitri ignored Emma’s protest as he struggled to lift his head.

“The caliph’s?”

“The pasha. And they do not look pleased.”

He managed to sit upright despite the agony that jolted down his arm. “Damn.”

Seemingly indifferent to the approaching soldiers who were fully armed with both rifles and swords, Emma carefully shifted to put a bracing arm behind his back. Dimitri swallowed a rueful sigh. The ridiculous woman would always be more concerned with the welfare of others than her own safety.

Which was precisely why he intended to devote the rest of his life to protecting her.

“Surely that is good?” she asked. “We have done nothing wrong.”

Dimitri battled against the wave of dizziness, his gaze taking in the determined approach of the five soldiers. His heart sank at the sight of their military precision and obvious ease with their weapons.

This was no ragtag group of mercenaries.

They were trained fighters who had tasted war.

“We have shed blood on the streets of Cairo,” he absently murmured. “I doubt the pasha will approve.”

“Valik is…” Emma caught her words, glancing toward Valik’s unnaturally still body. “He was a slave trader. A criminal.”

“And what am I?” he demanded wryly. He turned to meet Josef’s calculating gaze. “Can we flee?”

“You can.” He nodded toward the nearby carriage. “I will distract them.”

“No.” Dimitri’s tone was commanding. He would not risk his most loyal servant. “I doubt the pasha’s mood will be improved if we were to kill his soldiers.”

He heard Emma suck in a sharp breath. “You are going to allow yourself to be captured?”

“There does not seem to be much choice.” He swiftly considered his severely limited options. There was no avoiding the soldiers. Not without putting Emma in danger. He could only hope that the pasha would offer a reasonable hospitality until he could find the means to escape. “Josef, slip away and gather the men. Take them out of the city and if we have not been released within the week—”

“Wait,” Emma interrupted, her expression grim. “You will need Josef. I have a better plan.”

His brows snapped together. “Emma.”

“Trust me.”

Without giving him the opportunity to stop her, Emma surged to her feet and darted toward the nearby palm trees before becoming lost among the shadows.

Dimitri gritted his teeth, and Josef muttered his vile opinion of females who were too stubborn for their own good. Neither, however, were foolish enough to risk drawing the approaching soldiers’ attention toward the fleeing wo

man.

Instead, they exchanged a resigned glance and prepared to be arrested by Muhammad Ali Pasha.

EMMA RAN THROUGH THE streets of Cairo like a mad woman, utterly indifferent to the drunken men and roaming packs of dogs that threatened her. All she could think of was finding help before Dimitri could be taken by the approaching guards.

A futile hope, she discovered as she at last reached Rajih’s palace only to be told he had not yet returned.

Not knowing where else to turn, Emma allowed herself to be escorted into the harem to await his arrival.

It was not as if she could approach the pasha and demand that his soldiers release Dimitri.

Could she?

Pacing the tiled floor, she impatiently counted the passing minutes. For once the soft tinkle of the fountain and the faint scent of incense did nothing to soothe her frayed nerves. Nor did the expensive wine that was left near the baths on a silver tray.