Scoundrel's Honor (28 page)

Dimitri growled low in his throat, his predatory nature fully aroused. Unfortunately, he could not dismiss Josef's warning.

For the moment, he had to swallow his pride and accept whatever assistance Rajih was willing to offer.

“Have you spoken with the pasha?” he asked between gritted teeth.

The Egyptian smiled. “I have.”

“You explained that Valik was in this country to auction young girls?”

“Yes.”

Dimitri narrowed his gaze, sensing that Rajih had not come to announce he was at liberty to leave.

“And?”

Rajih moved to the tray on a side table, pouring a drink from the decanter of brandy.

“Unfortunately, I was not the only petitioner to approach the pasha concerning your presence in Cairo.”

“Petitioner?” Dimitri stiffened in shock, wondering if the word had a different meaning in Egyptian politics. “What precisely does that mean?”

Rajih emptied his glass in one swallow. “When I was brought before the pasha to proclaim your innocence another arrived to swear to your guilt.”

So, it was precisely what he feared.

But how could anyone possibly know he was currently being held captive by the pasha? And why would they come as a petitioner to proclaim his guilt?

“Who?”

“Baron Koman.”

“The Russian ambassador?” He frowned, a fury exploding through him. “Damn his black soul.”

Rajih smiled, not bothering to hide his amusement at Dimitri's frustration.

“I assume the two of you are acquainted?”

“Unfortunately.” Dimitri paced across the floor, brooding on the unexpected complication. “The bastard must have discovered my intention to speak with Alexander Pavlovich to have him removed from his position.”

Rajih made a choked sound of surprise. “You have such influence with Czar Alexander?”

“It is not a matter of influence. The man is an incompetent fool.”

“Not entirely incompetent,” Rajih countered. “He made quite a compelling argument that you are an infamous
Russian criminal who had recently decided to take command of the slave trade.”

Dimitri came to a sharp halt, unable to dismiss the sensation that there was far more to his current troubles than an indolent, half-witted Russian nobleman.

“If that were true then why would I have killed Valik and allowed the girls to be released into your care?”

“It was suggested that it was a battle for power.” Rajih shrugged. “You would, after all, need to destroy the current business before establishing your own.”

Dimitri paused, his suspicions becoming certainty. “Koman made this suggestion?”

Rajih set aside his glass, sensing the sudden danger that prickled in the air.

“Why are you so surprised?” he asked. “You admitted the man has reason to wish you harm.”

Dimitri prowled forward, his expression hard. “Yes, but he is a lazy, stupid man who is barely capable of summoning the ambition to leave his divan.”

An age-old bitterness flared through Rajih's dark eyes. “He resembles every other foreign diplomat in Cairo.”

“The crux of the matter is that Koman might pout and complain and even threaten retribution, but he would never summon the initiative or the temerity to approach the pasha,” he growled, fiercely regretting his lack of weapons. “And he most certainly does not possess the intelligence to devise such a clever means of implicating me as a slave trader.”

The dark eyes narrowed. “I assure you that it most certainly was the baron I just witnessed testifying to your guilt.”

“I do not question his presence, only his motive,” Dimitri replied, his voice cold. “There has to be more than revenge that compelled him to the citadel.”

With a glare at Dimitri's bristling manner, Josef attempted to ease the rising hostility in the room.

“What could be more powerful than the desire for revenge?” he demanded.

Dimitri folded his arms over his chest. “Fear.”

Josef absently stroked a finger over the scar marring his cheek.

“You believe he fears the loss of his position as a diplomat?”

“No,” Dimitri readily denied. Koman was a self-indulgent pig who cared for nothing beyond his own pleasure. “It has to be a greater threat than his career.”

“His wealth?”

Dimitri nodded. “Or his life.”

Rajih made a sound of impatience. “You make no sense, Tipova. What possible gain could be in forcing Koman to testify against you?”

Dimitri's attention snapped back to the caliph, his suspicions a hard knot in the pit of his stomach.

“Tell me what the pasha has decided.”

“Obviously, he has been put in an awkward situation.” Rajih paused, as if carefully considering his words. “He has long considered me a trusted advisor, but he cannot be seen to ignore the accusations of the Russian ambassador who also happens to be a powerful nobleman.”

A cold, humorless smile curved Dimitri's lips. His cunning mind was already devising various plans of escape that did not include the pasha or Caliph Rajih.

“I sympathize with his dilemma, but that does not reveal what he intends to do with me.”

“Or me,” Josef muttered.

“He has sent an advisor to St. Petersburg to speak with Czar Alexander before a decision is made.”

Dimitri exchanged a startled glance with Josef. Was his mysterious enemy unaware that Alexander Pavlovich
owed him several favors and assumed the czar would be happy to leave Dimitri rotting in a foreign prison? Or was this simply a delaying tactic?

He had first assumed that Koman's petition to the pasha was an attempt to punish him. It could be an opponent who desired him to be distracted for some nefarious purpose.

And he knew precisely who would desire him to be distracted.

“A tidy means of avoiding responsibility,” he mocked.

Rajih silently studied Dimitri's forbidding expression, his hand instinctively reaching to curl around the hilt of his sword.

“You should be grateful. It was within his power to have you executed.”

Dimitri was in no mood to be appreciative. “Am I to remain a prisoner while the advisor is in Russia?”

“A guest.”

“A guest who is unable to leave the citadel?” he growled.

Rajih shifted his weight, his fingers tightening on his sword.

“An unfortunate necessity.”

Dimitri refused to be intimidated, regardless of the stupidity of confronting an armed man with nothing more than his bare hands.

“It is also a predictable response.”

Rajih narrowed his gaze. “Predictable?”

“The pasha had little choice but to insist I remain under guard after a prominent ambassador accused me of trafficking and murder.”

Josef cleared his throat, his gaze nervously darting between the two men.

“Who would want you trapped here?”

Dimitri's gaze moved with a slow deliberation over Rajih's poised body.

“There is one gentleman who comes to mind.”

With the elegant ease of a trained swordsman, Rajih had the sword pulled from his belt and the tip pressed beneath Dimitri's chin.

“If I wished to be rid of you, Tipova, I would not bother with such an elaborate scheme,” the Egyptian warned. “The desert is littered with the bones of my enemies.”

Dimitri was vibrantly aware of a faint breeze wafting through the grilled windows, the perfumed oils that clung to his robe and the trickle of blood that ran from his chin down his neck.

One misstep and he would be skewered.

“Perhaps you did not want me dead, but merely unable to return to Russia with Emma,” he snapped. “With me locked in the citadel, you will be at liberty to offer her…” His jaw tightened. “Comfort.”

The sword dug deeper, making Dimitri flinch, but he ignored the pain. Instead, he concentrated on the outrage that smoldered in Rajih's dark eyes.

That was not the expression of a man attempting to hide his guilt.

No. He was clearly offended.

Dangerously offended.

“You insult both Emma and myself,” Rajih gritted. “I am not so desperate that I need to trick a female into my arms, and Emma is not so weak she must cling to whatever gentleman happens to be at hand.”

With a grudging reluctance, Dimitri accepted that Rajih was not responsible for his current dilemma.

A pity.

He would have enjoyed wreaking vengeance on the arrogant son of a jackal.

“You are right,” he managed to mutter. “I apologize.”

“Are you taunting me?”

“No.” Dimitri grimaced. “My particular business
demands that I be able to discern when someone is lying or telling me the truth. You cannot feign wounded pride.”

With obvious annoyance he would not be allowed to remove Dimitri's head, Rajih lowered his sword and stepped back.

Josef moved to pour a large glass of the brandy, his expression revealing he held Dimitri entirely responsible for the near disastrous encounter. He downed the liquor in a single swallow.

“If it's not the caliph, then who?”

Rajih shrugged. “There are others who would wish you to be…indisposed.”

Actually, there was an endless list of potential enemies. He had not achieved his position without cunning, treachery, coercion and a vast amount of brute force. But how many of them knew he was in Cairo? Or in the custody of the pasha?

And how many were powerful enough to force Baron Koman to do his bidding?

He gave a frustrated shake of his head. There was still something he was missing.

“Who do you suspect?”

“Valik's guards bolted the moment he left the brothel,” Rajih offered. “They would be delighted to have you locked away while they attempt to make their escape from Egypt.”

“It is possible.”

“Or perhaps it is an unknown adversary who is manipulating matters from the shadows.” Rajih smiled. “You seem to have a talent for creating enemies.”

Josef set aside his empty glass. “We can discover the identity of the enemy once we are away from this place.”

Dimitri paused before giving a discontented nod. “How long before you can convince the pasha to release us?” he demanded of the caliph.

“There is nothing to be done until Czar Alexander has responded to the pasha's request for assistance.”

Dimitri's brows snapped together. “Impossible.”

“There is no choice.”

“Then I will find my own means of disappearing.”

“Do not be a fool, Tipova.” Rajih deliberately lifted his sword, his warning unmistakable. “If your servants are caught attempting to slip into the citadel they will be put to death immediately. Just as you will be killed if you are caught trying to escape.”

“You cannot expect me to remain trapped here like a rat….”

Dimitri bit off his words as he was struck by a haunting reality.

Trapped.

Yes, that was precisely what he was.

Trapped and all but helpless.

If he were the mysterious enemy why would he want his prey trapped and helpless?

Rajih stepped toward him, regarding him with a suspicious expression.

“What were you saying?”

Dimitri forced a grim smile to his lips. “Very well.”

Josef swore, reaching to grasp Dimitri's arm in a punishing grip.

“Tipova—”

“Josef, it is obvious we must wait for Alexander Pavlovich to demand our release.” He overrode his servant's protest.

Josef glared at him with a sour disapproval. “You are assuming he won't tell the pasha to have us fed to his tiger.”

“Tiger?” the caliph asked in confusion.

“It is of no importance,” Dimitri muttered, swallowing
his pride as he contemplated the most pertinent dangers of his situation. “I must demand a favor of you, Rajih.”

Dimitri had to appreciate the manner in which the man hesitated before offering his promise. He might never be friends with Rajih, but he did respect his integrity.

“That depends upon the favor,” he admitted.

“I assure you that it does not include storming the citadel.”

Rajih heaved a resigned sigh. “I am listening.”

“I wish for Emma to be returned to the safety of St. Petersburg.”

The other man stiffened, a stubborn expression settling on his lean face. Not that Dimitri was surprised. Rajih made no secret of his desire to keep Emma for himself.

“That is her decision.”

“No, you must be firm with her,” he insisted. “We both know how stubborn she can be. She will remain so long as she fears I am in danger, regardless of the fact that my enemies might very well use her to punish me.”

“You do not believe me capable of keeping her safe?”

Dimitri crushed his possessive instincts. For now all that mattered was that Emma was whisked far away from Cairo.

“Once she is in St. Petersburg, she will be under the protection of Herrick Gerhardt, the czar's most trusted advisor. And more important, she will be too far away to be an effective pawn. That is the only true means to keep her safe.”

There was a pause as Rajih considered Dimitri's request, then with a wry smile, he offered a dip of his head.

“I will do my best, but I do not perform miracles.”

“That is all I ask.”

The caliph turned to walk across the floor, pausing as he reached the heavy doors.

“It has been many years since I visited your country,”
he murmured, his voice filled with a blatant anticipation. “It will be delightful to spend a few weeks at the Summer Palace.”

Dimitri clenched his hand, watching as the caliph stepped out of the room and the door closed behind him.

He should have stabbed the bastard with his own sword.

Indifferent to Dimitri's brooding desire for blood, Josef moved to stand directly before him, his hands planted on his hips.

“Have you gone completely mad?”