by Zoe Blake
I laid a hand over my heart. “You remembered.”
I could only remember casually mentioning once to him I wanted to see the world’s greatest libraries… and he had remembered.
“I remember every word that has come from your lips, моя крошка.”
My eyes filled with tears. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I rested my head against his heart. “Do you have any idea what this means to me?” I asked, my words muffled against his shirt.
His hand came up to stroke my hair. “I only want to see you happy. Please, always remember that, моя крошка.”
He was a hero straight out of a romance novel. Sure, he had some dark and twisty parts to him, but really, what hero didn’t?
A man approached us from a shaded arch. For the next hour he took us on an exclusive tour of the entire complex, even reading rooms only reserved for scholars and clerics. I marveled at the intricate wood and ironwork as the curate talked about how it was founded by a woman in the ninth century and how women were responsible for the recent renovation.
Standing in one of the library’s temperature-controlled rooms surrounded by gilt and leather-bound volumes and fragile vellum scrolls was awe-inspiring. The curate even brought out an original version of Ibn Khaldun’s famous work, Muqadimmah, dating back to the fourteenth century. He displayed it on an emerald green and gold velvet pillow. After putting on a pair of white cotton gloves, I was allowed to flip through a few of the pages. It was like touching God.
As we were getting ready to leave, another staff member ran up to Dimitri and handed him a cloth-wrapped package. “Your purchase, sir.”
“What’s that?”
Dimitri handed it to me. “Open it and see.”
My eyes narrowed. “You promised no more elaborate gifts.”
“I lied.”
“Dimitri…”
He gave me a wink. “Would it help if I promised it wasn’t jewelry?”
My lips tweaked at the corners. He really did have the devil’s own charm.
Pulling back the black velvet, I could only stare in stunned wonder.
It was a three-volume collection of books. They were a beautiful dark green Moroccan leather with heavily gilded spines and moiré silk endpapers.
Carefully opening the cover, I stared down at the intricate title page. The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night by Richard Burton, First Edition 1885, published by the Kamashastra Society. It was the quintessential English translation of the Arabian Nights. I adored rare books. There was something about the electric feeling you got when you touched them. As if you held not only the author’s work in your hand, but the energy and essence of those who had read the book over the centuries. It was an extremely powerful feeling.
“Is this truly for me?” I whispered, touching a single reverent fingertip to the page. “I love it. I’ll treasure it for always and always.”
Stepping up behind me, he wrapped an arm around my waist as he looked over my shoulder down at the book. “You really are a marvel, Emma. I know no other woman in the world who would be happier getting an old book than a quarter of a million dollar diamond bracelet.”
Shocked, I turned in his embrace, hugging the books to my chest. “Wait. What?” I help up my arm, displaying the ever-present diamond bracelet on my wrist. Horrified, I asked, “Dimitri, please tell me I haven’t been walking around with a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar bracelet on my arm!”
“Did you know your eyes become flecked with gold when you’re angry… or aroused?”
“Don’t change the subject!”
He looked down at his watch. “It’s getting late. We should head back to the hotel.”
“Dimitri…”
After that he picked me up into his arms and kissed me senseless, so I forgot why I was mad.
“I won’t be long.”
I looked up from my book. I was in heaven, reading volume one of his gift outside in the courtyard surrounded by the soft glow of several stained glass lamps with the smell of spice and citrus in the air. It felt like I was truly in an Arabian palace, experiencing every word on the page.
He had showered and changed into a suit for his meeting. I didn’t have to be told I wasn’t invited.
He sat beside me and nuzzled my neck. “Did you know they consider this translation the most sexually explicit?”
I knew that. It had had to be privately printed otherwise they would have thrown Richard Burton in prison for the graphic descriptions of the various Kama Sutra-like positions throughout the text.
“Perhaps when you return, I’ll read some of it to you… naked.”
Dimitri growled and loosened his tie. “Fuck my meeting.”
As he leaned over me, there was a knock on the door.
He hung his head and muttered a curse under his breath.
Rising, he straightened his tie. “Be a good girl. I’ll just be downstairs in the restaurant. Order something from room service while I’m gone.”
He bent down and gave me a quick kiss before leaving.
Moments later there was a knock on the door.
Dimitri must have forgotten something.
Closing my book and holding it against my chest as I headed toward the door, I called out, “Coming.”
“Did you forget your key?” I asked as I opened the door.
There was a sharp pain… then everything went black.
Chapter 26
A man does not recover from such devotion of the heart to such a woman! - Jane Austen, Persuasion
Dimitri
“Get off me!” I roared as I fought against the three police officers struggling to restrain me. Swinging my right arm, I sent one man careening straight into a wall. After swinging to my left, the second man pitched forward and tripped over the sofa I had upended.
Bending forward, I reached behind me and grabbed the coat of the officer with his arm around my neck and flipped him over my head to land on his back at my feet.
A fourth officer drew his gun.
Taking a deep breath through my nose, I eyed my assailant before striking. Grabbing the gun with my left hand, I thrust the palm of my right against the man’s forearm till I heard a crack.
He screamed and dropped the gun.
Taking the butt of the gun, I clocked him on the temple. He too crumpled at my feet.
Mikhail walked through the door and surveyed the carnage. “I see I missed all the fun.”
I had called him the moment I’d realized something was wrong. Fortunately, he had already been pulling into the hotel parking lot. Unfortunately, I had trashed the place, forcing the hotel’s security to call the police.
“What have you learned?” I asked him as I tore off my now damaged suit coat and loosened my tie.
Emma had been missing for two hours.
When I had returned to the riad, I had fully expected to find her where I’d left her… curled up in the courtyard with the book I had given her, but all was silent and still.
Realizing it had been a long day of travel and excitement for her, even without my sexual attentions, I’d had a vision of her lying naked in our bed, probably sleeping, snuggled under the covers all warm and soft. It was astounding how quickly I had become used to having her in my bed. Never in my life had I looked forward to sharing my bed with a woman more. And it wasn’t just the sex, it was her being there for me to hold close. I wanted that in my life, craved it.
The bedroom was empty. Our bed cold and unslept-in.
It wasn’t until I’d headed back into the living room that I had noticed the book.
The rare book I had just given her was lying face down on the floor with some pages crushed.
Emma would never treat a book that way, let alone one as precious and rare as that.
I knew then they had taken her.
The question was who.
Mikhail ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not Aamir. I’ve had him and his crew on surveillance. As far as I can tell, they didn’t
know it was our guns they stole. Aamir freaked out when he learned the Russian connection and that someone big from the operation was coming to Morocco to investigate.”
Stepping over one of the unconscious police officers, I paced a few steps away, rubbing my jaw. I couldn’t think straight. My Emma, my sweet baby girl, моя крошка, was in danger and it was all my fault. I should have never brought her with me. I should have never pursued her. I should have left her to carry on with her normal life. Instead, for my selfish reasons, I’d dragged her beautiful light into my darkness and now she was going to pay the price.
I couldn’t let that happen.
If I had to burn this city to the ground, I would find her. My baby would be safe in my arms before the dawn or there would be hell to pay.
Turning back to Mikhail, I asked, “What about the port master?”
Mikhail kicked a broken vase out of the way before crossing to me. “That makes little sense. He’s on the payroll.”
I continued to pace, my body full of angry energy. “What if he’s playing both sides? That shipment of AR-15s that went missing. He blamed Aamir’s outfit. What if he had made a deal with Aamir?”
Mikhail caught on to where I was going with this. “He uses our guns to jump-start Aamir’s operation, probably getting a piece of the action, while he continues taking bribes from us and blaming the occasional missing shipment on Aamir.”
I shook my head. “What’s his end game? What could he possibly hope to accomplish by taking… Emma?” I swallowed, feeling pressure behind my eyes just saying her name. Goddamn, she was probably terrified right now, and it was all my fucking fault. I felt like putting my fist through a wall, except I had already done that and it hadn’t solved my problem or calmed my rage.
Mikhail shrugged. “When I set up the meeting, he seemed rattled that we would come to Marrakech over such a small missing shipment. Guess he figured we’d just write it off as a loss. Maybe he was worried we’d learn who really took the guns? Figured he’d distract you by taking Emma. He’s probably planning on blaming Aamir.”
“It’s working.”
“If it helps, he took her for leverage. It wouldn’t serve any purpose to kill her. That would just start a war.”
“It doesn’t help,” I growled, already imagining my hands around the man’s throat as I slowly squeezed the life out of him.
There was the sound of a shoe scrape in the outside hallway.
We both drew guns and pointed them at the open door.
A man entered with his arms held up high. “Mr. Kosgov, a thousand apologies!”
I un-cocked my gun and nodded to Mikhail that it was all right. It was Maurice, the owner of the hotel, who I knew well.
Maurice wiped his brow with a handkerchief as he held out his other hand, palm up, imploring me. “Mr. Kosgov, a thousand apologies,” he repeated nervously. “The idiotic security guard should never have involved the police.”
“Can I trust you to take care of this?” I asked, gesturing to the four knocked-out officers.
“Yes. Yes. I have already called the commissioner. He is sending people over to collect his men. He will destroy any reports or evidence that a misunderstanding had occurred.”
The commissioner was also on our payroll, so that shouldn’t be a problem. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my money clip and sectioned off a substantial number of large bills. Folding them in half, I handed them to the owner, who bowed and left.
Turning back to Mikhail, I said, “He’ll probably secure her down by the docks.”
He nodded. “He’ll have several men. We’ll need supplies.”
“I have all we need on the plane.”
I hated the delay. Every minute my baby spent in the hands of this bastard was a minute too long. The primal part of me would have preferred to just charge in, but I knew that was the surest way to get her killed in the crossfire. It was better to go in fully armed with a plan.
Hold on, моя крошка, I’m coming for you.
The warehouse was deceptively quiet.
Having changed into black fatigues, I easily kept to the shadows and slipped behind the first guard, taking him out with a crack to the skull. Killing him would have made too much noise. Catching his body as he fell, I dragged it behind some crates and moved forward. Knowing Mikhail had more than likely dispatched the second guard and moved into position, I went forward with the more dangerous part of our plan.
Taking a deep breath, I carefully opened the door and crept inside.
The first thing I saw was her tearstained face. Terror had turned her usually pink and cream complexion a deathly pale. Her beautiful brown eyes seemed unnaturally large. Never in my life would I forget the look on her face. The pain and horror my actions had caused her would be burned into my memory till the day I died.
She was seated at a makeshift table. The man I assumed was Khalid, the port master, sat beside her, his hand resting on a Glock, which he had pointed straight at her.
He sprang up the moment he saw me. Grabbing the gun, he pulled on Emma’s forearm. She cried out. My guts twisted inside of me as I saw red. It took all my control to rein in the emotion to blindly kill. Khalid roughly forced Emma to her feet, placing her body between him and me.
He then placed the muzzle of his gun against her temple.
I couldn’t breathe.
“Dimitri, I’m so sorry,” she cried as fresh tears coursed down her cheeks.
“моя крошка, this isn’t your fault.”
She sniffed. “I’m scared.”
“I know, baby. Just hold on. This will all be over soon.”
“Shut up!” yelled Khalid.
Emma flinched as his gun struck her in his agitation.
Before I could react, two men sprang out of the shadows to my left and right. A swift punch to the throat incapacitated the right one. I ducked as the left one swung out; rising swiftly, I threw my fist into his side, aiming for his kidneys. As he bent over in pain, I gripped his partner who was still disoriented and swaying on his feet, and knocked their skulls together. They both fell where they stood, unconscious.
Khalid backed up a few steps, awkwardly dragging Emma with him. “Guards! Guards!”
“If you’re calling for the guards outside, they’re not coming. It’s just you and me now,” I warned, prowling toward them.
“Don’t come any closer or I’ll shoot her.”
“You do and you’re dead where you stand,” I growled.
His head tilted as his slack mouth contorted and he gave a high-pitched laugh. “I’m dead anyway no matter what. I know how you Russians operate.”
I took another step closer. “Yes, but you still have a choice.”
Emma flinched again as he pressed the gun muzzle harder into her temple. Khalid licked his lips as his gaze darted spasmodically around the room, searching for an exit we both knew didn’t exist. The only way out of this room was through me.
“What kind of choice?” he sneered.
“Let her go and I’ll kill you quickly. Harm her and not even God will hear your prayers for death. As you’ve said, I’m Russian.”
There wasn’t a criminal in the world who didn’t fear crossing a Russian.
Pain was an art form in my country.
Khalid cocked his gun. “I’m walking out of here with her. I’ll let her go when I know I’m safely away.”
Emma whimpered.
My eyes narrowed as I ground out, “Not a chance, you’re not going anywhere with her.”
He wiped his sweating brow with his forearm before pressing the gun back to her temple. “You wouldn’t risk it. I saw how you were with her. I’ve been watching you since you arrived. We do this my way or she dies in front of you.”
“I love you, Dimitri,” cried Emma as her body shook from fear.
Goddamn it! This was not supposed to be how I first told her I loved her. I should have said it earlier. I should have been the one to say it first and keep saying it
from the moment I met this beautiful sweet creature who stumbled into my dark world bringing light and life. When I got her out of this mess, I would never stop telling her.
“I love you too, моя крошка.”
“Enough!” screamed Khalid, clearing becoming unhinged from the pressure of the situation. “I’ll kill both of you!”
He swung the gun in my direction.
Finally, the moment we had been waiting for.
“Now!” I barked.
There was no sound. No hint of what had just occurred until a red hole appeared between Khalid’s eyes. As his lifeless body fell, I lunged for Emma, crushing her to my chest, shielding her from the gruesome sight.
She burst into tears as she clawed at my clothes. Grasping her by the back of her head, I pressed her close, murmuring repeatedly that I loved her and she was safe. I picked her up in my arms and hurried out of the warehouse. Mikhail was already by the SUV, loading his sniper rifle in the back.
“To the airport,” I demanded.
He nodded as he rushed to open the back passenger door. I climbed in with Emma still in my arms. He shut it behind us and got behind the wheel.
As we raced to my private plane, I inspected Emma for injuries. There was a red mark on her temple from where Khalid kept pressing the muzzle to her head and a slight bump just above her right ear. He must have knocked her out with a blow to the head the moment she’d opened the hotel door. That was why there hadn’t been any sign of a struggle beyond the thrown book.
With my free hand, I caressed each arm and leg, still wanting to make sure she didn’t have any other unseen injuries. Picking up her arm, I tilted her wrist so I could see it in the light from the passing street lamps. It was red and raw. The diamond bracelet I had given her was gone. The bastard must have ripped it off her wrist.
“I’m sorry. He took it,” she whispered against my chest.
I kissed the top of her head. “I don’t give a damn about the bracelet, baby girl.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have opened the door. I wasn’t thinking. I should have known—”