The beady eyes narrowed. “I did wonder why the woman was in the caliph’s harem.”
“A mistake I had every intention of correcting.”
“So if you are not friendly with the caliph, then how would you know he is planning to send his guards to this brothel as you claim?”
“I called upon the palace earlier in the evening.” Dimitri allowed a faint smile to touch his lips. “Of course, I took the precaution of slipping in unnoticed.”
Valik snorted. “Of course.”
“Why trouble the servants?” Dimitri lifted his shoulder in a nonchalant movement. “I am perfectly capable of opening a door. Or window, if necessary. It allows me to discover information that might otherwise have remained a secret.”
Valik returned to his pacing, his expression hard as he sensed his opportunity for revenge slipping away.
“What information?” he growled.
Dimitri unconsciously tapped his fingers on the cushions of the divan. It was one thing to be cautious, but did the fool intend to spend the entire evening chatting?
Rajih’s patience would not last for long, and as for Josef…well, if the fiercely loyal servant became convinced that Dimitri was in danger, he would do whatever necessary to rescue him.
Including putting Emma at risk.
“The most interesting was the tearful confessions of a female servant who spoke of a Russian man who bribed her to lure Emma into a waiting carriage behind the harem,” Dimitri said, coming straight to the point.
“Bitch.”
“It was then the caliph sent a servant to trail your carriage through the heavy traffic while he gathered his guards and prepared an assault on those who had dared to kidnap his favorite concubine.” Dimitri leaned forward, not bothering to hide his smoldering frustration. “I followed the servant so I could arrive before Rajih and slip Emma away.”
Valik shoved his fingers through his hair, his expression harassed.
“Are the two of you demented?” he muttered. “The woman is a sharp-tongued vixen who any man with a thimble of sense should be delighted to be rid of.”
Dimitri’s hand instinctively slid up the sleeve of his robe where he had a dagger strapped to his forearm. He had another dagger tucked in his soft leather boots and a pistol in the holster beneath his left arm. The guards had been fools not to search him more carefully for weapons.
Unfortunately, he was not yet in a position to slice Valik open and leave him for the jackals. That particular pleasure would have to wait until he was certain Emma and the other girls were well away from the bastard.
“If that is true then you will be relieved to give her into my care.”
“No.” Coming to a halt, the Russian scowled in frustration. “You have destroyed my life, you smug bastard. Now you shall witness your woman used by every male who attends the auction this evening before I put you out of your misery.” He paused, his expression gloating. “Perhaps I should warn you, some of the men can be excessively rough. I doubt Emma will survive the experience.”
Dimitri slowly rose to his feet, refusing to react to the taunt despite the savage fury churning in his heart.
He had discovered as a youth on the streets of St. Petersburg that it was the man who refused to be goaded who survived.
Cold logic was always superior to mindless anger. Just as intelligence was always superior to brute strength.
He would eventually have the opportunity to make this man suffer. The sort of slow, agonizing suffering that could only end in death. But for now he had to convince the bastard that there was only one means for his survival.
“Are you deaf?” he taunted. “There will be no auction, Valik. Already the caliph is preparing to attack.”
Sweat bloomed on the man’s forehead, his breathing heavy. “Then I will kill you both and escape.”
“Escape to where?” Dimitri pressed. “You are in a foreign country and I will bet my last drachma that you have little money. And worse, your wealthy associates are too consumed with their own survival to lend you assistance.” He glanced toward a grilled window where the sound of braying donkeys and the distant howl of jackals were poignant reminders of how far from home they were. “A pity.”
“I will sell the females,” he stubbornly insisted.
Dimitri gave a bark of laughter. “You can sell a pack of terrified young women while fleeing from the caliph’s guards? I doubt that even you are that talented.”
Valik’s bravado faltered beneath Dimitri’s ruthless prodding, his hand swiping at the sweat that dripped down his brow.
“What do you offer?” he demanded at last.
Dimitri folded his hands over his chest. “You will allow me to leave the brothel with Emma and the other females. In return I will give you five hundred rubles.”
“Five hundred?” The man licked his lips. “A paltry sum for a man in your position.”
Dimitri had deliberately chosen a sum that would be large enough to tempt the man without being overly excessive. Valik was too cunning not to suspect a trap if Dimitri were willing to offer a fortune.
“It is what I have at hand and certainly it is enough to purchase a ticket upon a ship leaving Egypt,” he said. “It offers you hope.”
“You have the money with you?”
Dimitri narrowed his gaze. “I did just tell you that I was neither stupid nor careless. My servant is waiting at the Al-Hakim mosque. He will give you the money once he is certain I am safe.”
Valik was shaking his head before Dimitri finished, his expression hard with suspicion.
“I am not a fool, either. What is to keep your servant from simply shooting me in the heart?”
Dimitri shrugged, already prepared for Valik’s refusal. He preferred to issue commands and have them obeyed, but he could barter with the skill of a merchant when necessary.
“Then we will travel to the mosque together,” he offered. “With me as your hostage my servant will not dare harm you until I am released.”
Valik frowned, silently pacing and weighing the undoubted danger of accepting Dimitri’s offer against the potential benefits.
Dimitri held his tongue, realizing if he pressed too hard the man might give in to his primitive desire to simply shoot him in the heart. He did, after all, hold Dimitri responsible for destroying his very profitable business.
Besides, Dimitri had little more to offer. His plan had been hastily conceived with none of his usual attention to details.
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.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
WITH 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 w
ould 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.
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