Scoundrel's Honor (Russian Connection 3)
Page 155
“Czar Alexander.”
Emma’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. Had Rajih just suggested that she blithely call upon the emperor of Russia and demand that he have a notorious criminal released from the prisons of Muhammad Ali Pasha?
“Are you jesting?” she breathed.
“Not at all.”
She shook her head, swallowing her urge to laugh. “I fear you have a mistaken notion of my importance, Rajih.”
His expression softened as he lifted a hand to brush a stray curl from her cheek.
“That is not possible.”
“But it is,” she insisted. “You met me in London in the companionship of the Duke and Duchess of Huntley, but that is only because they owed Dimitri some mysterious debt. I am not the lady of society I pretended to be.”
Amusement smoldered in the dark eyes. “For which I am eternally grateful, considering you were posing as Tipova’s wife.”
She ignored his teasing, determined that he would know the truth of her.
“What I mean is that I am not the person I pretended to be.”
“Then who are you?” he asked, his voice soft.
“I am…” With a sharp motion she turned away, hiding her troubled expression. “Nobody.”
Rajih’s hands settled on her shoulders. “Emma.”
“No, it is true.” Her gaze absently lingered on the stunning sight of Cairo spread below. “I am a mere commoner from an unremarkable village in Russia. And even there I am a source of mockery. I have no influence.”
She was not certain what she expected, but it was not his breathy chuckle as he lowered his head to speak directly into her ear.
“You could not be more mistaken, habiba. I am quite certain that within moments of being in your company, Alexander Pavlovich would be willing to demand the release of every prisoner in Egypt.” He deliberately allowed his lips to brush her cheek. “But that will not be necessary.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tipova mentioned that you are related to Herrick Gerhardt.”
Caught off guard by the unexpected words, Emma stepped from his lingering touch. Turning, she regarded him with a wary frown.
“He is a distant relative,” she admitted, “but we had never met until I came to St. Petersburg to seek his assistance in finding Anya.”
“Distant relative or not, he is a well-respected advisor who has the ear of the czar.”
“Herrick has been very kind, but I am not certain he would be willing to speak with Czar Alexander on my behalf.”
Rajih frowned, sensing her hesitation. “What is it Emma? Do you find it difficult to ask others for help?”
She was briefly distracted by his perceptiveness, even if it was misplaced on this occasion.
“To be honest, I used to find it impossible.” She wrinkled her nose, all too easily recalling her stiff-necked refusal to seek out those distant relatives who might have been of assistance. “I considered it essential that I be able to survive on my own. After all, what could possibly be more important than my independence?”
“Anyone who has endured your loss would seek to gain a sense of control over their lives.” He glanced up at the birds of prey circling overhead, his jaw clenched with suppressed emotions. “I understand better than most.”
“Of course.” Sympathy tugged at her heart. “You have lost both your parents.”
His gaze shifted to the distant outline of the pyramids that stood with ageless splendor among the sand.
“And my country,” he murmured. “Now I would do whatever necessary to protect it.”