Scoundrel's Honor (25 page)

At last the man came to an abrupt halt, a fevered color staining his face.

“No.”

An icy dread lodged in the center of Dimitri's gut. “No?”

“No.” Valik moved to grab Dimitri's upper arm in a bruising grip. “I have a better idea.”

W
ITH HER HARD-EARNED
ability to put the latest disaster out of her mind and concentrate on the troubles at hand, Emma efficiently searched the attics for a means to escape, and then when it was obvious she was trapped, she searched again for a potential weapon.

What was the point in giving in to her disappointment at Anya's betrayal? Or to allow herself to be consumed by the fear of being brutally raped?

Neither would help change her situation.

Instead, she had to keep her thoughts centered on the best means of escaping.

Unable to find any sharp object, she settled for breaking off one leg of a stool she had discovered beneath Anya's cot and moved to hide behind the door. Eventually someone would come to get her, and she intended to be prepared.

She did not know how much time passed before she heard the heavy sound of approaching footsteps. Ignoring her cramped muscles, she gripped the wooden stool leg. She did not believe for a moment she could overpower a man twice her size and weight, but she hoped to catch the monster off guard. All she needed was enough of a distraction to dart through the door before the man could catch her.

And then…

Well, her plan didn't extend beyond the door, but for now that was enough.

Lifting the weapon above her head, she held her breath
as the door was pushed open. Then, as the large form of Valik entered the room, she launched herself at his back.

The stool leg shattered as it hit the man's broad shoulder, but it did not have the impact she hoped for. Instead of sprawling to the ground, the man whirled on his heel, his face an ugly shade of puce as he lifted a meaty hand to hit her.

“Damn you, bitch.”

Braced for the impact, Emma was unaware of the second man who entered the attic. It was not until strong arms wrapped around her from behind and clamped her to a wide chest that she realized the danger.

“No,” the man rasped, surprisingly turning to protect Emma from the blow.

Instantly recognizing the voice, Emma glanced over her shoulder in shock.

“Dimitri?” she breathed, wondering if he were a mirage. Rajih had warned her that the desert was a treacherous place, offering her heart's desire only to reveal it was all no more than an illusion. Still, he seemed real enough. If he were a figment of her imagination, surely he would not be scowling at her as if he were infuriated by her attack on Valik, or his arms would not be holding her so tightly she could barely breathe? “What are you doing here?”

The golden gaze shifted to Valik, who was angrily pacing through the attic.

“A discussion for later,
milaya,
” he muttered.

Valik ripped aside the curtain that separated the two rooms.

“Where is your sister?” he growled.

Emma licked her lips, hastily conjuring a lie to cover Anya's absence. Whatever Anya had done, she was still her sister. Her only family. And Emma would protect her with her dying breath.

“A guard came by a few minutes ago to take her from the room.”

She ignored Dimitri's searching gaze as Valik stepped toward them.

“What guard?”

“How would I know? It is not as if we were in a position for introductions.”

Perhaps sensing Emma was hiding the truth, Dimitri shifted until he was standing between her and the slave trader.

“You have no time to linger, Valik,” he warned. “Not if you want to keep your head attached to your body.”

“Fine.” In one smooth motion, Valik reached into the pocket of his jacket to remove a pistol he promptly pointed at Emma. “Do not forget for a moment that your lover's life depends on you. You attempt something foolish and she dies.”

Dimitri's expression hardened, but he said nothing as he tucked Emma close to his side and led her down the stairs. Too terrified to protest, Emma barely noticed as they moved through the silent brothel.

She had no notion if Dimitri had followed her to the brothel or if Valik had captured him. She didn't know where they were headed, or what was going to happen when they arrived. And for the moment, she did not care.

All that mattered was that Dimitri was in danger and it was entirely her fault.

Sick with dread, Emma stumbled through the narrow door that led to the back alley. A strange prickle made the hair on the nape of her neck rise, as if she were being watched from the shadows, but she dared not glance around with Valik pressing the pistol to the center of her back.

“The carriage,” Valik growled, steering them past the pavilion to the waiting vehicle and yanking open the door. “Get in.”

Already suspecting what was about to occur, Emma grudgingly climbed into the dark interior, her mouth dry as Dimitri settled on the seat opposite with a grim expression. She sensed that it would take very little to prod him into a foolish bout of heroism.

Her fear was confirmed when Valik reached inside the carriage, yanking her hands over her head to lock them in the dangling manacles.

“No,” he snapped, surging forward.

A pistol pressed against her temple. “I warn you, Tipova, sit back.”

Emma tensed, not out of concern for herself, but the horrifying fear that Dimitri would be injured.

“Dimitri…please,” she whispered between lips that were stiff with foreboding.

His eyes flashed with golden fire, but with a grudging motion he settled back on the leather seat and turned his glare toward Valik.

“That is not necessary.”

“We play this game by my rules, Tipova.” Valik stepped back with a humorless smile and slammed the door.

Dimitri muttered a few of the more foul Russian curses as he noticed the lack of a handle, accepting that they were well and truly trapped. Then, he cursed again as they felt Valik climb onto the driver's seat and with a jerk, they were rattling down the narrow alley.

“How did you find me?” she demanded, as much to distract her dangerously infuriated companion as to ease her curiosity.

Dimitri's jaw knotted as he waged a battle to maintain his composure. He had ruthlessly devoted the past twenty years to carving a place for himself in the world where he was always in command of the situation.

To be at the mercy of another had to be worse than torture.

“I didn't,” he said, his words clipped. “I was at the brothel before you arrived with Valik.”

Emma narrowed her eyes, forgetting the painful steel biting into her wrists and the jarring sway of the carriage. Discovering that Dimitri had already been at the brothel was not at all what she had expected.

“Why would you be there?”

“It was not for the reason you are so clearly imagining,” he retorted, shifting so he could peer out the narrow window. “Josef learned that a large Russian man had been seen in the neighborhood and he suspected he had some connection to the local brothel. He wished me to join him so we could investigate.”

“Is that why…?”

His gaze flicked back to study her wary expression. “Why?” he prompted.

She blushed, wishing she could call back her impulsive words.

“Why you left the harem?”

The golden eyes warmed, as if he were savoring a particularly pleasant memory.

“I certainly did not leave willingly, but I could not ignore the potential to find Anya,” he husked, his handsome features somber in the light that flickered from the torches that lined the streets. “I have learned my lesson.”

Bittersweet misery settled in her heart at the unwelcome reminder of her sister. For all her relief that Anya seemed safe in the care of the guard, Mikhail, it would take time before she could think of her without the aching sense of loss.

“Anya,” she breathed, lowering her lashes to hide the pain.

She heard the creak of leather as Dimitri shifted forward. “You managed to speak with her, did you not?”

“Yes.”

“Has she been hurt?”

The manacles holding her captive rattled as she shrugged. “She claims she is unharmed.”

“Do you fear she is trying to spare you the truth of her injuries?”

“Sparing me?” Emma's sharp laugh filled the carriage. “No, that certainly was not her intention.”

There was a short pause, then Dimitri's hand cupped her chin and tilted her face to meet his piercing gaze.

“Emma?”

She tried to be angry with him. Her relationship with Anya was a private matter. What right did he have to press her?

But his gentle touch was sending comforting warmth through her that eased the pain of Anya's treachery, and she found the words tumbling from her lips before she could prevent them.

“I should have listened to your warnings.”

“You begin to worry me,
milaya.
” A faint smile curved his lips, but his expression was troubled. “Have you taken a blow to the head?”

“I simply realize that my efforts to care for Anya have done nothing but push her away.” She blinked back the hot surge of tears. “As you said, I have no one to blame but myself for being abandoned by those I love.”

His fingers tightened on her chin, his brows pulling together in a frown. “Halt that.”

“Why? I would think you would be pleased to know you were right.”

He studied her for a long moment, his unnerving stare seeing far too much.

“Tell me what happened.”

“Does it matter?”

“Please, Emma.” His warm breath brushed her cheek. “Tell me.”

She briefly closed her eyes, savoring the sensation of having him near. She was horrified he had put himself in danger, but a weak part of her wanted to wrap herself in his arms and be surrounded by his strength.

Where was her proud sense of independence now?

“Anya was in the attics when I was brought to the brothel,” she confessed, grudgingly opening her eyes to meet his smoldering gaze. “Let us just say she was not pleased by my attempts to rescue her.”

“Why not?”

“She already had planned to escape with one of the guards. I was an unwelcome interference to her elopement.”

A dangerous tension filled the carriage, sending a shiver down her spine.

“A guard?”

Emma hesitated, still reluctant to reveal Anya's perfidy. Perhaps because she feared it would reflect on her failure to instill proper morals into her sister, she ruefully conceded. Then she winced as they turned a sharp corner, the manacles biting into her flesh as a reminder of their dire situation.

Dimitri had risked everything to rescue her. He deserved the truth.

“She swears that he is in love with her,” she muttered. “He promised to take her to his home in Austria.”

His fingers stroked over her cheek, his tone cautious, as if he were afraid of causing her more distress.

“I assume that you attempted to convince her of the stupidity in trusting such a man?”

Emma's lips twisted, remembering how she had pleaded with her stubborn sister.

“Of course, but she refused to listen to reason. She is
quite convinced that there is no worse fate than returning to Yabinsk with me.”

Sympathy briefly softened his features. “She is very young,
milaya.
If you are patient, she will eventually come to appreciate all you have sacrificed.”

Emma shook her head. It had taken Anya's agonizing rejection to force her to accept that she had been willfully blind over the year.

There was nothing she could do, nothing that she could offer, that would be enough for her sister.

Nothing.

“No, she is lost to me.”

“Emma, listen to me,” he urged, his voice lowering to ensure it did not carry past bars that blocked the windows. Not that it was likely Valik could overhear anything over the clatter of the crowds that filled the streets. How late was it, she inanely wondered? Midnight? Certainly Cairo was still bustling. “Caliph Rajih is waiting outside the brothel. As soon as he is certain you are safe he will rescue the girls and capture the remaining guards,” Dimitri assured her. “As much as I might hate the bastard, you can trust Anya to his care.”

Emma felt a surge of relief that girls being held captive would at last be safe, but shook her head at Dimitri's belief that Anya would be among the rescued women.

“You do not understand, Anya is already gone.”

He stilled, his eyes narrowing at her words. “I remember you said that a guard had come to take Anya from the attics,” he said slowly. “I sensed then you were lying.”

“It was all I could think of to keep him from going in search of her.”

His hand cupped her cheek. “Where is she?”

“I had only been in the attics for a few moments when she gathered a satchel and escaped through a trap door in the roof. She claimed that her beloved was awaiting her.”

“And you remained behind?”

She turned her head, unable to watch the dawning comprehension in the golden eyes.

“Obviously.”

“Why?”

“Surely we should be discussing how we are to escape?” she demanded, watching the light flickering beyond the carriage window. How much farther to the mosque? Surely they had to be close?

Dimitri firmly turned her face back to meet his ruthless scrutiny.

“Why did you remain in the attics, Emma?”

“Because Anya locked the door behind her,” she snapped. “Are you satisfied?”

Emma was not surprised by the furious outrage that rippled over his beautiful face. Dimitri Tipova might be considered a criminal by most, but he possessed an unwavering sense of honor and a loyalty to those who depended on him. He would consider Anya's abandonment the worst sort of treachery.

“No, I am damned well not satisfied,” he growled, a violent anger glittering in his eyes. “Do you mean to tell me that the ungrateful brat not only deserted you so that she could flee with her lover, but that she blocked a means for you to escape even knowing you were to be sold as a whore?”

Emma shrugged, weary of the bitter disappointment that spilled through her heart like acid.