Scoundrel's Honor

by Rosemary Rogers

  Now she struggled not to allow a wrenching surge of fear to overwhelm her.

  “You have no idea what he is capable of,” she warned. “He will destroy you if you do not flee before he discovers you are in Cairo.”

  “Oh, I intend to flee,” he drawled. “Once I am certain that Tipova knows that I have stolen his lover and intend to share her with the most depraved men to be found in Egypt.”

  She shifted on the seat, her arms aching from being held above her head. Her mind, however, was racing. This horrid man would not be allowed to hurt Dimitri.

  The mere thought of him being injured, or worse, was unbearable.

  “You are mistaken.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat, forcing herself to meet his malevolent gaze. “I hired Dimitri Tipova to help in my search for Anya, but he is no more than my employee.”

  “The Beggar Czar a mere employee?” He snorted in disbelief. “Don’t treat me as if I’m an idiot.”

  She managed a disdainful sniff. “Obviously he had his own motives for assisting me, but they had nothing to do with being my lover. I am a proper lady.”

  “Even a proper lady becomes a tart when given the opportunity.”

  Heat stained her cheeks. “You are offensive.”

  “And you are a liar.” He reached to grab her chin, his fingers bruising. “I saw the two of you together in that warehouse in London. The man is so besotted with you that he will go stark raving mad at the thought of you being used as a common whore. I might even let my guards have a turn or two. They so rarely get the chance to taste the wares.”

  Despite her best intentions, her brittle courage faltered beneath his vile threat.

  “Do you have no conscience whatsoever?” she husked.

  “None. You would do well to remember that.” The carriage came to a halt and reaching beneath his jacket, Valik pulled out a pistol. With a grim expression he pointed it directly in her face. “We have arrived. I would suggest that you not fight my servant. I prefer to savor my revenge, but I will shoot you if I must.”

  “I hope you rot in hell, you monster.”

  “Bitch.”

  THE HOUSE WAS BUILT IN a narrow street and nearly hidden behind the large palm trees. On the front a balcony hung over the street with grilled windows, no doubt used for the girls to lure potential customers. In the back a wooden pavilion was swiftly falling to ruin and a narrow alley was filled with rubbish.

  It appeared to be like any other brothel in Cairo if not for the guards posted at every entrance. And, of course, the pack of mangy dogs that had nearly mauled him when he first approached the building. Dimitri had taken refuge on the side terrace, leaving Josef to deal with the savage curs.

  Nearly twenty minutes later the wiry servant shimmied up the trellis to join him, his bare feet barely making a sound as he crossed the wooden terrace.

  “You disposed of the dogs?” he demanded, his voice a low whisper.

  Josef nodded. “The kitchen of the local café was stocked with a nice supply of meat. They were easy enough to lure away.” He gestured toward the narrow window that Dimitri had already used to enter the house and search for the girls. “What did you discover?”

  “The bottom floor has four rooms. A front parlor, an office, the kitchens and a pantry. The second floor has six small bedchambers.” He grimaced. “The upper floor contains the attics, but the doors and windows are barred. I assume that if the females are here that is where they are being held.”

  “Interesting.” Josef glanced over the edge of the terrace to the shadows below. “Guards?”

  “Far too many for a mere brothel. I have counted five so far.”

  Josef rubbed the tip of his nose, considering their few options.

  “A dangerous situation. Perhaps we should wait until later in the evening. The guards will eventually seek a place to hide from the employers and enjoy a bottle of raki together.”

  Dimitri chaffed at yet another delay. He wanted to expose the slavers and rescue the females so he could concentrate on Emma. Surely once he had her sister she would agree to leave the damnable harem and return to St. Petersburg where she belonged?

  But he was not a fool.

  If he acted too hastily he risked sending the bastards fleeing before they could be captured. Or worse. He could stumble into a trap.

  Still undecided, Dimitri shifted toward the edge of the terrace as he heard a noise in the alley.

  “What is that?”

  Josef peered into the shadows. “A carriage.”

  They both tensed, knowing that a vehicle would never willingly choose to travel through the filth of the alley unless there was a need for secrecy.

  Was it possible the auction was already beginning?

  He scowled, debating how long it would take to convince the authorities to send soldiers. It would be far more efficient to gather his own servants and attack the brothel. Unfortunately, he was not certain that the pasha would approve of a foreigner shedding blood on the streets of Cairo.

  Not when the gentlemen attending the auction were quite likely wealthy citizens who could create any number of political difficulties.

  Dimitri bent down as a servant hurried toward the carriage, opening the door and reaching inside. His eyes narrowed as he heard the low sound of male voices, then the unmistakable shriek of a furious female.

  Had they been keeping the women at another location and were only now bringing them to the brothel?

  That complicated matters since he couldn’t know if Anya had yet arrived.

  Leaning forward, he watched as the servant stepped back from the carriage, his arms wrapped around a furiously struggling woman. For a moment he was distracted by the sight of the large Russian who stepped from the carriage, instantly recognizing him as the man from the London warehouse. Then, as he heard Josef suck in a shocked breath, he returned his attention to the female who continued her futile fight for freedom, the moonlight shimmering over her honey curls and delicate features. “Emma.”

  All logical thought ceased as he vaulted off the terrace, overwhelmed by his savage need to gut the man who dared to put his hands on her.

  God, he had to reach her. He had to…

  Without warning, he was tackled from behind, landing awkwardly on the hard ground. He cursed as Josef grasped his arm and wrenched it to a painful angle behind his back, effectively holding him captive.

  “Damn you, Tipova, do not force me to hurt you,” the servant hissed.

  Dimitri struggled, but the smaller man had the leverage to keep him trapped, not to mention enough force on his arm to threaten to snap it in two. Something Dimitri was quite certain his friend was prepared to do if necessary.

  Turning his head, he spit out the dirt and watched in the distance as Emma was hauled into a side door of the brothel, followed by the hulking form of Valik.

  Any hope of a hasty rescue was slipping away.

  “Let me up,” he commanded.

  “You promise you will not do anything stupid?”

  He trembled with fury. “Josef.”

  “You may release him,” a soft voice ordered. “I promise to shoot him if he takes a step toward the brothel.”

  Josef leaped off his back, his gun pointed at Caliph Rajih as he appeared from the shadows of the pavilion. With less grace, Dimitri surged upright, his hands clenched at his side as he glared at the slender man in a dark uniform, a curved sword in his hand.

  “I should have suspected you were involved in this vile business,” he rasped, his body rigid with a combination of anger and anguish. Emma was in the hands of slave traders, and while his blind thirst to reach her was being tempered by the realization he might very well endanger her by barging into the situation without considering the consequences, he was still tormented by his frantic urgency. “Your presence in London, not to mention your interest in Emma, was far too convenient.”

  Ignoring Josef’s pistol pointed directly at his heart, Rajih step
ped forward, his expression hard.

  “You ever again accuse me of being involved with the slave trade and I will have your head on a pike,” he warned, the sharp edge of his sword glinting in the moonlight. “Believe me, that is not an empty threat.”

  Dimitri stepped forward, his hands clenched with the fierce need to strike out.

  “You think we are stupid enough to believe your presence here is a mere accident?”

  “I could ask the same of your presence, Tipova. What are you doing at this brothel?”

  The two men glared at each other, both seeking to prove their dominance. Like dogs snarling and snapping at one another. At last it was the realization he was wasting precious time that Dimitri swallowed his pride.

  He would sacrifice whatever necessary to save Emma.

  “My servant heard rumors that a large Russian man was seen in the neighborhood,” he confessed, his tone pitched so it would not carry on the night air. “He investigated and found that this particular brothel had supposedly suffered a fire.”

  Rajih glanced toward the building that was shabby, but unmarred by flames.

  “A fire?”

  Josef shrugged. “So I was told.”

  “Not a particularly convincing lie,” Rajih said.

  Josef rolled his eyes. “The servants did not impress me with their swift wits.”

  “I have explained my presence, Caliph.” Dimitri folded his arms over his chest. “Now I will hear your story.”

  “There is no…story.” The dark eyes narrowed. “I returned to my home after enduring a tedious dinner party, which I believe I have you to thank for my invitation.”

  Dimitri could not halt the cold smile from curling his lips. He had considered himself quite clever in arranging Rajih to be absent from the palace so he could spend the evening in Emma’s arms.

  “I sent no invitation,” he protested.

  “We will settle that debt at a more convenient moment.”

  He waved aside the threat. “You said you returned home.”

  “Yes, and when I discovered Emma was missing I gathered my servants so I could question them.”

  “What did you learn?”

  “I learned that I had more than one uninvited guest during my absence,” Rajih said, his tone promising retribution. “Yet another grievance I intend to settle with you later. For now it only matters that one of my female servants confessed to accepting a bribe to lead Emma to a carriage waiting near the stables.”

  “Perhaps you should take greater care in hiring your staff.”

  Something like remorse flared over the dark face. “Samira was jealous of my obvious affection for Emma. She now deeply regrets her behavior.”

  “Not so deeply as she will regret her behavior if Emma is harmed.”

  The caliph moved the sword just enough to remind Dimitri it was in his hand. A subtle warning.

  “I am capable of punishing my own servants.”

  “Tell me precisely what she said.”

  “She knew very little.” Rajih shook his head. “A Russian man approached her in the bazaar earlier in the day and urged her to join him at a local café. Samira knew it was wrong, but she was angry and agreed to his request.”

  “Valik,” Josef muttered.

  “Whoever he was, he offered Samira several drachmas if she would lead Emma to the carriage at precisely ten o’clock,” Rajih continued. “He told her that Emma was his sister who had fled from home and he was anxious to return her to Russia and her family.”

  Dimitri glanced toward the house, every passing moment grating against his nerves.

  “That still does not explain your presence here,” he snapped.

  “The carriage left only moments before my arrival. Once I had a description of the vehicle, it took little effort to catch up with it in such heavy traffic.”

  “This makes no sense.” Josef interrupted the conversation without warning.

  Dimitri glanced at his servant in surprise. “What do you mean?”

  “Why would Valik kidnap her?”

  “Obviously, he discovered Emma had followed him to Cairo and was afraid she would reveal his sordid business to the pasha.”

  “If he had managed to find out that Emma was in Cairo, then he most certainly knew you were here,” Josef reasoned. “After all, you have made no effort to hide your presence while the woman has been hidden in a harem. Considering you pose the far greater danger to him, Valik would be a fool to hazard stealing Emma from the caliph’s palace when he could quite easily shoot you in the back.”

  “Not to mention the pure satisfaction,” Rajih murmured.

  Dimitri shot him a dark scowl before returning his attention to Josef.

  “Just say what is on your mind, Josef.”

  “The only reason a man is willing to risk his neck is for love or—”

  “Hate,” Dimitri finished for his companion, his thoughts racing.

  Josef’s words made sense. He better than anyone understood the effectiveness of manipulating others with threats to their families. A man might refuse to pay a gambling bill even after a savage beating, but he would beg, borrow or steal the necessary funds to protect his wife.

  And if you wanted to sincerely hurt a man…

  Well, you threatened his lover, not him.

  “He no doubt holds you to blame for interfering in his profitable affairs,” Rajih pointed out the obvious.

  “Yes.” His gut twisted in icy fear. If something happened to Emma he would be destroyed. “What better revenge?”

  Josef stepped forward to grab his arm, his face tight with concern.

  “Or trap.”

  “Yes,” Dimitri slowly agreed, his gaze shifting toward the brothel as a plan began to form. As much as he might long to charge into the house and shoot anyone who might stand in his path, he had enough sense to know that Emma would be killed before he could ever reach her. No, he had to convince the damnable Valik to release her unharmed. And there was only one means of persuading such a man. “Of course, it ceases to be a trap once you recognize it for what it is,” he husked.

  “Damn,” Josef muttered. “You’re going to do something stupid, aren’t you?”

  Dimitri turned back to meet his companion’s accusing glare.

  “Yes, and you are going to assist me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “OW.” EMMA GLARED AT the large servant who carried her through the filthy brothel, his expression stoic despite the fact he had just smacked Emma’s head into the door frame of the parlor. “If I must be carried then could you at least not ram me into the walls?”

  Leading them past the low divans and stacks of pillows tossed about the bare floor, Valik glanced over his shoulder with a mocking smile.

  “You are wasting your time if you hope for a response from my servant. I cut out his tongue when I hired him.”

  Emma fought to control her panic. “My God, you are demented.”

  “Cautious.” The large man shrugged, angling toward the narrow staircase. “No matter how much I might be willing to pay a man to keep my secrets I can never be certain of his loyalty. It is far more effective to make certain he can’t speak at all.”

  The man carrying her through the dark room with a low ceiling and heavy scent of incense appeared indifferent to being discussed as if he were no more than an animal. Perhaps his spirit was too broken to care.

  “The world will be a far better place when Dimitri hunts you down and kills you,” she hissed.

  Valik chuckled, pausing at the base of the stairs to turn and regard her with a smile of evil anticipation.

  “If he is reckless enough to seek me out, then he will quickly discover that he is the prey, not the hunter.”

  “You are…” Realization hit with shocking force and Emma felt her stomach clench with an icy dread. “Oh, my God. You are hoping he will come after me.”

  The man’s smile widened, his hand waving about the seemingly empty room. No doubt he had a dozen guards hi
dden about the place.

  “Let us just say that I am prepared should he choose to rescue his woman. And if he doesn’t…well, I at least have the satisfaction of knowing that for the remainder of his life he will blame himself for your painful and degrading destiny.”

  She struggled to hide her fear, knowing that was precisely what he desired.

  “You know nothing of Dimitri. He will kill you and there is nothing you can do to stop him.”

  “Such faith in your lover,” he taunted. “It’s heart-warming.”

  “I have faith in the knowledge you are not half the man that he is.”

  Fury flashed through the beady eyes, and turning on his heel, Valik stomped heavily up the stairs.

  “It’s no wonder your sister was so eager to flee your sour nature,” he growled. “I would have smothered you in your sleep.”

  “Anya? Is she here?”

  “You wish to join her? It is my pleasure,” he muttered, continuing up a second flight of stairs to the attics. He paused to unlock a heavy door, pushing it open to climb yet another short flight of stairs. At the top there were two doors on either side of the narrow hallway. He unlocked the one on the right-hand side, thrusting it open with a grim smile. “Enjoy your reunion. It is to be of a short duration. You are both to be sold tonight.”

  Emma cursed as the servant dumped her over the threshold, slamming the door shut and locking it before she could react. Rising to her feet, she rubbed her bruised hip and glanced around the cramped room.

  There was not much to see.

  The ceiling was low and flat with a small ladder that led to a narrow opening in the roof. There were a few pillows scattered over plank wooden floor and an oil lantern billowing smoke and a grudging light on an upturned barrel in one corner, but no furniture and nothing to ease the bleak emptiness. Across the narrow room a piece of fabric was hung in a doorway, concealing the room beyond.