Bound by Love (Russian Connection 2)

“You bastard.”

Hauling her toward the small foyer, Sir Charles pressed the dagger deep enough to break her skin.

“It baffles me that no one has yet cut out that shrewish tongue of yours, Miss Karkoff. An oversight I shall soon rectify.”

Leonida desperately struggled against his hold, indifferent to the blood she could feel trickling down her neck. If Sir Charles managed to get her out of the cottage she was as good as dead.

No matter how hard Sophy might pray.

They were nearing the entry to the kitchens when a shadow fell across the floor. Leonida’s heart contracted with painful relief, only to plunge in regret as the Duke of Huntley stepped into the hallway, blocking Sir Charles’s path to the front doorway.

What was wrong with the aggravating man?

She had done everything in her power to drive him away and keep him safe. He was a duke, for God’s sake. He should be at Meadowland, not risking his neck battling her enemies.

Indifferent to her angry gaze, Stefan briefly studied the small wound on her neck, his expression so hard she barely recognized him.

There was nothing of the charming aristocrat in his handsome face at the moment.

His beautiful eyes were as cold as the Siberian winter and his elegant features set in a mask of lethal fury. A predator that was coiled and prepared to strike.

Lifting his arm, Stefan coolly pointed a loaded pistol toward Sir Charles’s face.

“Release her.”

Holding Leonida as a shield, Sir Charles edged his way into the parlor, growling in anger as Stefan followed him, shadowed by Lord Summerville’s manservant, Boris, as well as Pyotr.

“I fear that will not be possible, your Grace,” he retorted, his tone defiant despite the obvious fact he was cornered.

Stefan curled his lips in an arrogant sneer. “Are we acquainted?”

Leonida felt Sir Charles stiffen and realized that Stefan had struck a vulnerable nerve.

Sir Charles was jealous of Stefan’s superior title.

“I could never claim your lofty position among society, but it is impossible to live in London without enduring the nauseating excitement when the Duke of Huntley condescended to make one of his rare appearances among the ton,” he rasped, yanking Leonida even closer as Stefan stepped forward. “Stay back.”

“Shoot him,” Leonida commanded, preferring a bullet to being at the mercy of the lunatic who held her captive.

“Ah, the devoted Duke is too much a nobleman to risk a helpless female,” Sir Charles mocked.

Leonida met Stefan’s gaze, her expression grimly determined. “He is going to kill me whatever you do. At least I should be given the pleasure of knowing he is going to die along with me.”

Astonishingly, Stefan stretched his lips to a cold smile. “She does have a point and I hate to disappoint a lady.”

Sir Charles hissed in surprise. “Do not imagine for a moment that I am bluffing.”

Stefan narrowed his gaze. “What do you want of Miss Karkoff?”

“I want what every man wants. Money.”

“Very well. How much?”

“No, Stefan…” Leonida began, only to yelp in pain as the dagger dug in deeper.

“Shut your mouth, bitch, the men are negotiating.” Waiting until he was confident Leonida was properly cowed, Sir Charles returned his attention to the Duke of Huntley. “One hundred thousand rubles.”

Stefan’s eyes flashed with a deadly anger, but he remained in bleak command of his composure.