“Good.”
As if surprised by her fierce response, Dimitri tilted back his head to laugh with rich enjoyment.
“You possess the soul of a warrior and the heart of a saint.” The dark eyes studied her with an unnerving intensity. “A pity I cannot keep you.”
With a sharp motion, Leonida rose to her feet. She was not entirely certain he was teasing.
“If that is all…”
“But it is not.” His voice held a thread of warning. “Please, return to your seat.”
Her heart thundered, but she forced herself to reclaim her place on the settee. It was not as if she could escape.
Not until Dimitri Tipova was prepared to let her go.
If he did intend to let her go.
“What else could we have to discuss?”
“According to my sources, Sir Charles was not alone in his attempt to blackmail your mo
ther.”
Her burst of fear was forgotten as her eyes widened in shock. “How did you…”
“There is very little that occurs in St. Petersburg that does not reach my ears.” He overrode her disbelieving words, his expression unreadable. “And Nikolas Babevich has never been discreet.”
She shivered. Was there any secret this man had not ferreted out? It was uncanny.
“My mother will never pay him the money he has demanded,” she said, her tone defensive.
“Never fear, Miss Karkoff. Babevich has happily joined Sir Charles in the netherworld,” he drawled. “Well, perhaps not happily. As I recall there was a great deal of screaming involved.”
A trickle of sweat inched down her spine. Just how much blood was on this man’s hands?
“What did he do?”
“He was foolish enough to owe my gambling establishments a great deal of money.”
“I…see.”
His smile mocked her barely concealed unease at his callous manner.
“Do not mourn his passing, ma belle. He was a liar and a thief who was plotting to murder his own sister to gain her inheritance.”
Her spine stiffened. She was not troubled by the thought that Nikolas Babevich was dead. After all, he had done his best to terrify her mother into giving him an enormous fortune. And any gentleman who would throw his lot in with a man such as Sir Charles was bound to possess his own share of evil.
No, she was far more unnerved by the knowledge that her current companion could shrug aside murder so lightly.
It was hardly reassuring for a woman he had just kidnapped.
“I am surprised you did not wish for him to succeed in acquiring his inheritance if he owed you money,” she muttered.
“My pesky conscience occasionally overcomes my business sense,” he admitted, smoothly rising to his feet to cross toward the marble fireplace. “Such as now.”
“Now?”
Opening an enameled box on the mantle, Dimitri plucked out a stack of letters tied with a frayed ribbon. He turned, smiling at her suddenly wide eyes.