Scoundrel's Honor (Russian Connection 3)

Vali

k nervously shifted. “You cannot fool me into believing you do not care about the woman.”

Realizing that the slave trader was about to turn and discover how close to his back Dimitri had moved, Josef gave a wild laugh as he stumbled toward him.

“I don’t,” he called. “And since I am the one with the pistol…”

Startled by the sudden movement, Valik allowed his fear to overcome him. Removing the pistol from Emma’s temple he instead pointed it in Josef’s direction.

“I told you to stay back.”

A cold smile curved Dimitri’s lips as he attacked.

The bastard had made two mistakes. The first was assuming that Josef was the more dangerous adversary. And the second was turning his gun away from Emma. It had been his one guarantee that Dimitri would not dare to strike.

Plunging the knife deep in Valik’s back, Dimitri wrapped an arm around his throat and yanked him to the side, effectively dislodging Emma from the man’s grasp. Only then did he drive the larger man to the dirt road, digging the knife deeper into his flesh.

Valik grunted, briefly caught off guard. Dimitri was swift to take advantage, jerking the dagger free only to slam it low in the man’s back, experienced enough to avoid the ribs so the blade could dig deep into his body.

Dimitri felt warm blood rush over his hand, cursing Valik’s massive size and ruthless thirst for survival. A lesser man would have conceded defeat, realizing he had been mortally wounded.

Valik, however, refused to accept fate without a fight and with a sudden roar he swung out a beefy arm. His elbow connected with Dimitri’s chin with shocking force, briefly blinding him with pain.

Dimitri cursed, his hold on his opponent loosening. It was enough for Valik to roll away, shrieking in pain as Dimitri grimly held on to the dagger while it was ripped from Valik’s flesh.

For an odd, timeless motion the two of them lay on the road, face-to-face with the spectrum of death hovering between them. Valik’s eyes glittered with demented fury, flecks of blood visible on his lips. In contrast, Dimitri was coldly determined, quite willing to die if it meant saving Emma.

Then, as one, they both moved to put an end to the violent encounter.

Pulling back his arm, Dimitri swung it in an arc, surprised when Valik made no effort to deflect the blow. It was not until the explosive sound of a firing pistol nearly deafened him that he realized the man was still holding his gun. And that he had shifted to aim the weapon directly at him.

He oddly felt no fear. Only a wry acceptance that he was at last to be punished for his wicked ways. And regret. A sharp, biting regret that he would be leaving Emma far too soon.

Of course, if he were going to hell, he had no intention of going alone. Putting the full force of his body behind his strike, Dimitri drove the dagger directly into the center of Valik’s heart.

He felt the blade slide easily through Valik’s chest and at the same moment he felt as if a large, very angry horse had just kicked him in the shoulder. The breath was jerked from his body as the bullet slammed into his flesh, the force of the blow sending him rolling across the road.

Distantly, he heard the sound of Josef’s curses and Emma’s screams, but it was difficult to think through the sudden fog that was clouding his mind.

There was pain. Red-hot, searing pain. And a frustration that his body refused to respond to his commands, so that he could make certain Valik was dead as he was supposed to be and not preparing to shoot again. But there was also the shocking realization he was not about to make his inevitable journey to hell.

How many times had he been shot in his lifetime? A half dozen? Certainly often enough to recognize a flesh wound from a mortal injury.

He wasn’t going to die.

Well, at least not in the next few moments.

The relief had barely passed through his mind when there was a flurry of footsteps and Emma sank to her knees at his side. Welcome warmth filled his heart at the sight of her pale face leaning over him.

Surely that was terrified concern for him simmering in her beautiful green eyes?

“Dimitri, damn you,” she choked, her gaze shifting to the blood staining his robe. “I knew this was a ridiculous plan.”

He smiled at her, savoring the feel of her fingers gently smoothing the hair from his brow, even as her knee pressed against his arm to send a blaze of agony through him.

“I told you it was a bargain, not a plan,” he reminded her.

“It was still ridiculous.”