Bound by Love (Russian Connection 2)

Charles gritted his teeth. If he were not injured the mocking idiot would already be dead.

“I have no need for pretense.”

The man took another step forward, standing close enough to peer down his long nose at Charles.

“You bluff and bully as if you are a man of courage when at heart you are nothing more than a pathetic coward who preys on the weak.”

Charles jerked at the accusation. No. This man could not know the truth. It was impossible.

“Enough of this foolishness. Either you leave or my servant will put a bullet in your heart,” Charles rasped, a savage sense of triumph easing his discomfort as Josef readily pulled a loaded pistol from his pocket.

Gallingly, the stranger merely laughed, unperturbed by the gun pointed directly at his heart.

“So you would hide behind a nasty serf?” the man tossed Charles’s words back in his face. “Is that what is considered bravery among true gentlemen?”

“Josef, be rid of this fool,” Charles barked.

Without warning, the man tilted back his head to laugh with rich enjoyment. “Yes, Josef. Be rid of the fool.”

“At last,” Josef muttered, whirling on his heel to directly point the pistol at Charles.

Charles stumbled back, too shocked to fully comprehend what was occurring.

“What the blazes is the matter with you?” he demanded of his servant.

The stranger’s laugh once again echoed through the empty warehouse.

“You did not believe I would allow you to escape from St. Petersburg without keeping an eye upon you? We have unfinished business.”

Realization hit with a vicious blow. This was a trap. And he had fallen into it like a bumbling buffoon.

Cold dread coiled through his stomach, his knees so weak he could barely stand.

“Tipova,” he breathed.

The master criminal offered a mocking bow. “At your service.”

“You bastard.”

“That I am. And quite proud of the fact.”

“I suppose you believe you are excessively clever?”

“At least moderately clever.” Dimitri cast a glance toward his treacherous servant. “What do you think, Josef?”

“No more than moderately.”

“Brutally honest as always.” The golden eyes shimmered with a smug amusement. “I do hope that he proved to be rather more respectful during his service to you, Sir Charles.”

Charles licked his dry lips. His fury at having been so easily duped was swiftly giving way to sheer terror. Dimitri Tipova had not gone to such trouble to bring him to this warehouse merely to taunt him.

He had to find some means of escaping from this mess.

“Why have you brought me here?” he asked, his voice coming out in an embarrassing croak.

Tipova narrowed his gaze. “Do not be tedious. You know quite well why you are here.”

“I will have your money…”