Scoundrel's Honor

by Rosemary Rogers

  “Safely stowed in her cabin as you ordered.”

  Dimitri narrowed his gaze. “You have no need to remind me that you disapprove of having a female aboard the ship.”

  “Every sailor knows a wench is bad luck.”

  Although several stones lighter than the hulking sailor, Dimitri stepped forward, his hand deliberately caressing the handle of his dagger he had tucked into the waistband of his breeches.

  “Andrew, allow me to offer a warning that you will share with the rest of the crew,” he said with a lethal softness.

  The man blanched. “Aye, sir?”

  “Emma Linley-Kirov is an honored guest on this ship and if I discover a member of my crew has offered her anything less than utter respect they will be tossed overboard and left for the fish to enjoy. Do you comprehend?”

  Sweat glistened on Andrew’s forehead despite the noticeable chill in the air.

  “Aye.”

  “Good. It would be unfortunate if there were any misunderstandings.”

  “There will be no misunderstandings.”

  “Then I believe we are ready to cast off.”

  “At once.”

  Stumbling over his own feet in his haste to obey Dimitri’s command, Andrew headed toward the bow of the ship. Dimitri watched his departure as he regained command of his temper.

  He had not been boasting. He would personally punish any man who dared to offer Emma an insult.

  Refusing to consider why he still itched to pummel the large sailor, Dimitri at last turned on his heel and made his way to the lower cabins. With each step his annoyance transformed into a burgeoning sense of anticipation.

  The past three days had been sheer hell. His empire might be made of thieves and scoundrels, but that did not make his responsibilities any less demanding. He had to ensure all his various businesses were operating smoothly before leaving the country. And of course, there had been the constant concern that Emma might foolishly attempt to slip away before he had completed his plans. The woman was as unpredictable as she was stubborn.

  Most disturbing of all, however, had been the sleepless nights he had paced the floor of his bedchamber, his body on fire with the need to have Emma in his arms.

  His pace quickened as he pushed open the door to his private cabin and stripped off his heavy coat, tossing it on the wide bunk. The room was built along the same sleek lines as the ship with table and chairs beneath the port hole and a chest of drawers attached to the paneled wall. He paused long enough to straighten his dove-gray jacket before heading toward the door that opened into the connecting cabin.

  For a moment he stood in the doorway, his gaze unerringly finding Emma’s slender body poised in front of the port hole as she watched St. Petersburg disappear into the mist. He would be able to sense her presence if he were blind.

  The cabin was similar in design to his own, although constructed on a smaller scale as befitted a servant. Not that it mattered. Emma’s place was at his side. And in his bed. And that was exactly where she was headed.

  He stepped forward, his blood heating despite the ugly brown gown that offended his senses. He knew precisely what was hidden beneath the woolen layers.

  “Surely you cannot be missing your home so soon?” he asked.

  He heard Emma’s gasp of horror as she spun around to regard him with an expression of stark disbelief.

  “You.”

  Strolling forward, he flicked a finger over her pale cheek. “Yes, it is I.”

  Her lips parted, but it took a moment before she could speak.

  “What are you doing here?” she at last managed.

  “I did warn you that I intended to hunt down the Katherine Marie.”

  “No, you said you would send one of your servants in search of the ship.”

  His fingers shifted to tug the pins from her hair, breathing deeply of her warm scent as the honey curls tumbled about her shoulders. It did not matter if she were dressed in rags—she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

  “Ah, well, that was when I had hopes of a warm, delectable female to keep me distracted.”

  He felt her tremble, but her hazel eyes flashed with a predictable fury.

  “And you wish me to believe that it was mere coincidence that you happened to choose the same ship as I did?”

  “It is not so difficult to comprehend.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, his body swaying in tempo with hers as the ship left the harbor and headed into open water. “This is the only ship currently bound for England that accepts passengers.”

  “And the cabin that connects to mine was the only one available?”

  His lips twitched. “That is rather more difficult to explain.”

  “Yes, I can imagine it would be.” She narrowed her eyes. “Not that it truly matters.”

  “No?”

  “I will simply request that the captain offer me a different cabin.”

  “You believe there are an endless number of rooms aboard such a small vessel?” he taunted.

  A dull flush stained her cheeks. “Of course not, but there must be one passenger who will be willing to exchange cabins.”

  He smiled wryly at her naiveté. “I would not be so certain.”

  “Your arrogance is truly astonishing, Dimitri Tipova,” she snapped, her hands pressing against his chest. “You might be in command of St. Petersburg, but you have no authority aboard this ship.”

  He wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her close, swallowing a groan as he accepted just how perfectly she fit against him.

  “You should learn never to underestimate me, moya dusha.”

  She stiffened, a frown marring her brow. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that any pleas to the captain will fall on deaf ears.”

  “You cannot be that certain, unless…”

  “Unless, what?” he softly prompted.

  “Unless you have already bribed him?”

  “There were no bribes, but considering the fact that I do pay his wages I should hope his loyalty would be to me.” His gaze slowly roamed over her upturned face. “Of course, he has always possessed a weakness for beautiful women so perhaps we should not put him in such an uncomfortable position.”

  In the distance the sound of the rough shouts and boots pounding against the deck echoed through the air, but within the narrow cabin Dimitri was aware of nothing beyond the play of emotions that rippled across Emma’s face.

  “You pay his wages?”

  “I pay the wages of the entire crew.”

  She licked her lips. “Why would you do that?”

  “You know why, Emma.”

  The color leeched from her cheeks as she slowly began to realize she was completely and utterly in his power.

  “This is your ship.”

  There was an uncomfortable tug on his heart as he gazed down at her pale, vulnerable face and the wide hazel eyes that were dark with apprehension. His jaw clenched with regret. Dammit, did she fear him? And why did the thought trouble him? Surely the stubborn female needed to be taught the dangers of her reckless behavior?

  He shoved aside his momentary weakness and hardened his determination.

  “It is.”

  She shook her head. “This is madness.”

  “My father is not the only man capable of owning a private fleet, although mine is considerably larger and far superior in design.” A grim smile curved his lips. “With any luck at all we should reach London before the Katherine Marie docks.”

  “If you expect me to be impressed, then you are far off the mark.”

  Dimitri swallowed a sigh at her tart tone. How many women had fallen to their knees and tearfully praised him for his assistance? How many had offered whatever he desired in payment of his services?

  “I am becoming resigned to your lack of appreciation for my stunning achievements,” he dryly admitted, “but you could occasionally offer some well-deserved words of gratitude.”

  �
�Gratitude?” She jerked as if he had slapped her. “For what? For deceiving me? For luring me onto this ship under false pretenses?” There was a sharp pause, her hazel eyes darkening with pain. “Oh, my God.”

  “Now what?”

  “Vanya knew this was your ship.” She glared at him as if he were responsible for the older woman’s decision to conceal the truth from her. And…he was. He had insisted that no one know that he was in pursuit of his father’s boat. Or that Emma was traveling with him. He would not risk alerting Count Nevskaya that he was in danger of having his sins revealed. “She was a part of your plot. How could she betray my trust? I thought she was my friend.”

  Gathering her hair in his fist, he tugged the satin strands until her head tilted back, revealing the flashing hazel eyes and the lush temptation of her lips.

  “It is because she is your friend that she is determined to protect you,” he growled.

  He was tired of battling this woman. He wanted her in his bed. He wanted her beneath him as he parted her legs and sank into her feminine heat with a deep, hungry pace that would tumble them both into paradise.

  As if sensing the sudden tension in the air, Emma sucked in an unsteady breath, a visible pulse fluttering at the base of her throat.

  “By putting me at the mercy of a ruthless criminal?”

  “At my mercy, eh?” Unable to resist temptation, Dimitri leaned down to touch his lips to that revealing pulse. “Mmm. Now that is a delicious notion.”

  Her hands pressed against his chest. “Dimitri.”

  “Yes, milaya?”

  “I demand that you return this ship to St. Petersburg at once.”

  He nipped her sensitive skin, a smile curving his lips as she trembled in pleasure.

  “Do you truly believe you are in a position to demand anything?”

  “I mean it, Dimitri. Return me to St. Petersburg or—”

  “Or what?” he challenged. “You will swim back to Russia?”

  She arched her back, clearly attempting to avoid his seeking lips. “Do not mock me. I will never forgive Vanya.”

  Pulling back, he studied her sulky expression, his fingers covertly unfastening the buttons that ran the length of her spine. He needed to feel the warm satin of her skin.

  “Vanya is considerably older and far more experienced than you. Can you not accept she made a choice she thought best?” he coaxed. “And that she simply desired to protect you?”

  “I can protect myself,” she muttered.

  His teeth clenched at her stubborn refusal to admit she needed him. Why did she have to be so damnably independent?

  “Truly?” he rasped, easing the heavy gown down her body. “You have just admitted you are at the mercy of a ruthless scoundrel. And you have no one to blame but yourself.”

  Intent on their argument, Emma appeared unaware of his skillful disrobement, not even when the gown was pooled around her feet.

  “I trusted Vanya,” she hissed.

  “You have relied upon blind luck since arriving in St. Petersburg.” His gaze searing over her slender body. “And if not for the kindness of Herrick Gerhardt and Vanya you most likely would be a captive with your sister upon my father’s ship or already sold to a brothel.”

  “And instead I am trapped with you.”

  Trapped? Could she possibly be more insulting?

  He would prove that for all her spitting fire, she was eager to be trapped with him. Pressing her back against his body, he yanked at the ribbons that held up her linen shift.

  “I could easily have ensured that you remained in St. Petersburg or were even returned to your tiny village,” he rasped.

  He heard her breath catch as his fingers skimmed the bare skin of her shoulders, her hands digging into his chest and a beautiful color returning to her cheeks.

  “I was brought to this ship under false pretenses,” she accused.

  “Do you wish to rescue your sister or not?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then put aside your ridiculous pride and accept that you are far more likely to bring Anya safely home with my assistance.”

  “It is not pride.”

  “No?”

  Her lips tightened at his mocking tone. “I do not appreciate being manipulated.”

  And Dimitri did not appreciate desiring this woman with a consuming hunger that would not leave him in peace. If he had any sense he would have left Emma Linley-Kirov in St. Petersburg and concentrated on capturing the Katherine Marie so he could at last destroy his father.

  Muttering a curse beneath his breath, he scooped her off her feet and headed toward the connecting door.

  “It would not be necessary if you would be reasonable.”

  She squirmed in his arms, her eyes wide with shock. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking you to our cabin.”

  “I have my own cabin.”

  He glared down at the face that had haunted his nights and intruded into his thoughts at the most inconvenient moments. He had not left her in St. Petersburg because he was unwilling to be parted from her. Annoying, but true.

  “You belong with me.”

  With a frown, she smacked her hand against his chest. “You cannot simply decide I belong to you, Dimitri Tipova. I am a person, not a bit of property you can collect and toss aside when you weary of me.”

  “How the hell am I supposed to weary of you?” He spread her across the narrow bed, his hands oddly awkward as he yanked off his jacket and waistcoat. His cravat and linen shirt followed. “You plague me no matter how I attempt to rid you from my mind.”

  She brushed aside the thick honey curls that tumbled across her face, her eyes widening with a wary excitement as he perched on the edge of the mattress and tugged off his boots.

  “And you blame me?”

  Shifting, Dimitri ran a hand over her slender foot and up the back of her calf, inching the thin shift upward and exposing the slender leg covered in a white silk stocking. Her undergarments were predictably prim, but ridiculously the sight of them made his gut clench with a savage lust.

  He had tasted the delights of the most skilled courtesans throughout Russia and Europe, but while they had been delightful diversions, they had never made him so desperate to have them in his arms that he was willing to kidnap them.

  “Of course I blame you,” he husked, his fingers reaching the silken skin of her thigh at the top of her stocking. He groaned, his arousal heavy with a painful need.

  Her eyes darkened with an awareness that slammed into him with potent force. “For what?”

  Beyond reasonable thought, Dimitri reached for her shift, ripping it from bodice to hem with one easy motion. She muttered something beneath her breath, but Dimitri barely noticed. Instead, he was lost in the beauty of her slender, perfect body.

  The air was squeezed from his lungs as his gaze swept over her, the pink-tipped mounds of her breasts, the tiny span of her waist, and the sweet honey curls that hid the source of her most intimate pleasure.

  “For daring to challenge me,” he managed to rasp.

  “I have done nothing but attempt to rescue my sister,” she breathed, her tone distracted as Dimitri slowly lowered himself on the bed beside her. “You are the one who continues to interfere despite my pleas to be left alone.”

  He framed her face in his hands, his lips skimming over her flushed face.

  “And that is what you desire? To be left alone?”

  “Yes.”

  He chuckled as her hands instinctively smoothed over his bare chest, her body arching toward him in unmistakable invitation.

  “I do not believe you.”

  “I…” Her words broke off with a shuddering sigh as his mouth traveled down the curve of her throat and feathered light kisses ever lower. “Oh, Lord.”

  His tongue circled the straining bud of her nipple. “Tell me again what you desire.”

  She cried out, her fingers shoving into his hair as she shifted restlessly beneath him.

&nb
sp; “Dimitri.”

  “Do you wish me to halt?”

  “No. God, no.”

  Raw relief surged through his body. He might very well have tossed himself overboard if she’d denied him.

  With a driven groan, he suckled her nipple, peeling away what remained of her shift. She tasted of soap and sweet innocence and Dimitri cursed as he battled to remove the remainder of his clothing, his hands shaking. He was infamous throughout St. Petersburg as a skilled, talented lover willing to devote hours to a woman’s pleasure.

  At last rid of his clothing, he settled on the mattress and smoothed his hands down Emma’s back, easing her toward his aching body. She briefly tensed, no doubt unnerved by the feel of his erection pressed against her lower stomach, but with a soft moan of capitulation she speared her fingers through his hair and urged his mouth toward the tight buds of her breasts.

  Fiercely pleased to comply with her silent demand, Dimitri tugged her nipple between his lips, using his teeth and tongue until she was squirming with pleasure against him. His hands slid over the curve of her buttock and down the back of her thigh. With a small tug he had her leg draped over his hip, allowing his cock to press against her damp heat.

  Raw lust slammed into him at the sensation of her warm, silken skin brushing against him, stealing his breath and making him quiver. Restlessly, he turned his attention to her other breast.

  “Sweet Emma,” he groaned, “I need you.”

  “Please, Dimitri.”

  He chuckled as his hand softly brushed the back of her leg, edging slowly upward. “Trust me.”

  “Never,” she breathed, but she readily cried out in pleasure as his fingers slid between her legs.

  Dimitri clenched his teeth, staggered by his need to be inside this woman. She was so soft, so delicate, so utterly innocent…

  Innocent.

  His gut twisted. What he knew of virgins could fit in a thimble, but he did have enough wits left to realize he would have to take care not to hurt her.

  Stroking a finger through her tender flesh, he found her tiny nub, teasing it softly while he shifted to capture her lips in a deep, demanding kiss.

  Emma arched against him, her hands running a fitful path down his back. She might be innocent, but her body was eager to be tutored.