Scoundrel's Honor (10 page)

“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.

“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.

Almost as eager as he was to tutor her.

With a smooth motion he rolled Emma onto her back, settling between her parted legs and continuing his persistent caresses. He heard her choked moan as he released her lips to trail a path of fevered kisses down her throat.

He cursed, trembling with the effort to not simply plunge into her and ease his craving. What had this woman done to him? His heart was pounding, his breath coming in sharp rasps and his cock so hard he feared he might come just trying to breech her maidenhead.

Pulling back, he studied her face surrounded by the spill of honey curls. The pale, creamy skin. The fan of lush lashes that lay against her flushed cheeks. The rose-tinted lips parted in invitation.

So beautiful, he thought, a flare of savage possession gripping his heart as he positioned himself at her entrance and with a slow, steady thrust sank into her heat. For a brief moment, Emma tensed and Dimitri forced himself to pause as her body adjusted to his invasion. Continuing to fondle her, he waited for her muscles to ease and her fingers to clutch impatiently at his shoulders before he at last pushed past her barrier.

His breath hissed through teeth at the exquisite sensations that jolted through his body. She was glorious. An enticing, splendid woman who had denied her own needs for far too long.

“Emma,” he husked, his hips pulling gently back before sinking back into her welcoming body. “My sweet Emma.”

“Yes,” she sobbed, her nails raking down his back.

The tiny shock of pain was like a spark to his very short
fuse. With a groan of surrender he lost himself in the pagan tempo that was as ancient and powerful as the sea churning beneath them.

E
MMA SHIVERED AS
Dimitri's ship slid silently through the eastern entrance basin into the Thames River.

It was a gray afternoon with a sharp breeze, but the docks were overflowing with ships vying to unload their cargo at the nearby warehouses. Tea, silk, fruit and tobacco was piled on the quays while spice merchants and pepper grinders plied their trade among the vast crowd of sailors, dockhands and passengers. It all combined to create an image of colorful chaos.

At any other moment she would have been thrilled with the sights spread before her.

How often had she lain awake at night dreaming of traveling to distant lands? Or begged her father to read her stories beside the fireplace so she could imagine being far away from their tiny village?

Now, however, she couldn't summon the proper appreciation for the busy docks, or the vast city that sprawled in the distance.

Not when her sister might be near.

Clutching the railing of the bow she leaned forward, indifferent to the breeze that tugged at her heavy wool cloak and the gray scarf she had wrapped around her head.

Too often over the past days she had allowed herself to forget the reason for her journey to England. Dimitri's fault, of course. It was not enough that he had spent their long nights seducing her with his wicked kisses and experienced touch, but he had also consumed her days, charming her
with stories of his reckless youth that revealed far more of his true self than he realized.

He was loyal and protective and generous to those he had taken beneath his wing. He was also quick to guard his heart and to keep others at a distance. He would always need to be in command of a relationship, ensuring that no one was allowed to step beyond the boundaries he set.

Including her.

As if her thoughts had conjured him into being, Dimitri appeared at her side, a scowl marring his handsome face as he studied her.

“The air is brisk,” he said. “You should return to the cabin.”

Emma swallowed a rueful sigh, her heart fluttering with an unbearable excitement as he leaned against the railing. It was more than the elegant beauty of his bronzed face and astonishing gold eyes. Or the chiseled perfection of his male body beneath the tailored jade jacket and buff breeches.

It was the ruthless sensuality and sheer male power he carried about him with such ease.

Desperately, she fought to hide her ready response to his presence behind a cool smile. She could not make herself regret the nights she had spent in Dimitri's arms. Her destiny might be to live as a lonely spinster in a tiny Russian village, but she would have memories that would keep her warm for years to come.

Still, she could not allow the madness to continue.

Not only did she need to concentrate on discovering her sister, but she would not become a source of amused gossip once they were settled in London. It was one thing to be known as Dimitri's lover by his trusted servants, and quite another to have strangers speculating at her uncharacteristic behavior.

“And miss my first glimpse of London?” she demanded. “Do not be silly.”

His scowl deepened at the cool edge in her voice. “The docks are hardly worth the risk of consumption. They are as foul and rat-infested as any other dock to be found in the world.”

“Not all of us are jaded travelers who are incapable of appreciating the novelty of arriving in a city I never dreamed I would one day visit.” She shrugged, ignoring the fact that she was shivering beneath her cloak. “Besides, it is no colder than it was in St. Petersburg.”

With a sound of impatience, he grasped her arms and turned her to meet his searching gaze.

“You have no interest in London. You are hoping that your sister will be standing upon the docks, awaiting you to rescue her.”

Her lips thinned with annoyance. It was bothersome that he could read her so easily.

“Whatever your opinion of my intellect, I am not entirely stupid,” she snapped. “But neither am I willing to be hidden away when Anya has need of me.”

His hands skimmed up her arms with an intimate gesture of possession.

“I will soon know if the
Katherine Marie
has recently docked. Until then I prefer no one know we have arrived in London.”

With an effort, Emma shrugged his hands away and stepped back. How could she think clearly when she was distracted by the temptation of his touch?

“There is no one who could possibly recognize me.”

His jaw tightened, but thankfully he contented himself with folding his arms over his chest and regarding her with a narrow gaze.

“Do not be so certain. I, better than most, know that there are eyes in the most unlikely places.”

Emma didn't bother arguing. Of course Dimitri would know where danger might be skulking. It was one benefit of being a talented criminal.

“Do you intend to remain on the ship until we find the
Katherine Marie?
” she asked instead.

“No. I have requested the assistance of an acquaintance. He will be awaiting us once night falls.”

She rolled her eyes at his vague explanation. “Is there any place you do not have acquaintances to offer you assistance?”

“My reach extends far beyond Russia.” His brooding gaze swept down her slender form. “It is something you might wish to keep in mind.”

A cold chill of premonition shivered down her spine. “Is that a threat?”

“I am not stupid either, Emma. No matter how many warnings I might offer, you will happily rush into danger if you believe it will help your sister. I intend to make certain you are not allowed to tumble into disaster.”

The ship swayed as a larger vessel surged past them, sending Emma careening into Dimitri's waiting arms. For a moment she was lost in the heat and scent of the man who had taught her the meaning of ecstasy. Her mind might have decided that Dimitri was no longer her lover, but her body was eager to respond to the feel of his hard muscles pressed tight against her.

She sucked in a shocked breath as she hastily pushed away from his clinging hold. What was the matter with her? Was she truly so weak?

Grasping the rail to keep her balance, Emma glared at the man who was now smiling in smug satisfaction.

“On how many occasions must I remind you that you are not my keeper?” she said tartly. “If I wish to tumble into disaster then it is none of your concern.”

He reached to cup her cheek in his hand, the golden eyes shimmering with a sinful temptation.

“As your lover it is my right to protect you. Even from your own stubborn nature.”

“Dimitri, I am not, nor will I ever be a helpless female who must depend upon you to decide what is best. And you are not my lover.”

“No?”

“No.”

His lips twitched. “Then I imagined the nights you spent in my arms? And the taste of your sweet lips? And your soft moans when I enter you—”

Without thought she reached up to cover his mouth with her hand, her cheeks hot with embarrassment.

“Shh.” Her gaze darted about to ensure the crew were scurrying about their duties. “Someone might hear you.”

He stepped closer, his head lowering to whisper directly into her ear.

“Do not ever deny I am your lover.”

She shivered, clenching her hands against the urge to tug the leather cord that held his hair in a tidy queue and run her fingers through the satin darkness.

“Dimitri, please,” she husked. “What happened between us is a madness that must end.”

His thumb gently caressed the chilled skin of her cheek. “It is too late for regrets.”

“I do not speak of regret, merely a return to sanity.” It took more effort than she cared to admit to knock his hand away. “I have traveled to England to find my sister, not to indulge in a meaningless affair.”

His beautiful features hardened. “I assume you are deliberately attempting to stir my anger?”

She squared her shoulders, refusing to be browbeaten. “Why would you be angered? I am not the first woman who you have bedded, nor will I be the last. I should think
you would be relieved that I am not so absurd as to attempt and cling to you.”

“Instead you claim me to be meaningless and toss me from your bed?” His voice was as cold as the winter wind.

A treacherous part of her wanted to believe he was hurt by her rejection. Perhaps even distressed at the knowledge he would never again share her bed. But Emma was nothing if not sensible.

Dimitri had no doubt found it amusing to tutor an aging spinster in the arts of love to pass the tedious voyage. What else did he have to keep him occupied? His passionate seduction, however, had included a great deal of skill with a notable lack of emotion.

Which meant the only wound he suffered was to his pride.

“No doubt your acquaintances in England include a woman willing to take my place,” she said, a matching chill in her tone.

His brows snapped together as if he were insulted by her words, but before he could speak one of the crew shouted a warning and they both turned to catch sight of the small boat being rowed in their direction.

“Emma, go below,” Dimitri commanded. Then, as she stubbornly remained at the railing, he turned to grasp her hands in his. “Please,
moya dusha.
”

She held his unwavering gaze for a long moment, frustrated by his continual attempts to keep her sheltered. But even as she told herself she was not going to be dismissed as if she were a mindless child, she caught sight of Dimitri's nod toward his gathering crew.

He would have the rowboat turned aside before he allowed the strangers to board the boat with her on the deck.

With a glare that warned of dire retribution, Emma spun
on her heel and marched toward the stairs that led to the cabins below.

It was not that she did not appreciate Dimitri's concern. In truth, it had been so long since anyone had considered the possibility she might need protection that she could not deny the treacherous warmth that filled her heart.

Thankfully she was wise enough to understand the danger of undermining her hard-won independence. Dimitri was a passing presence in her life. Once she had rescued Anya they would return to Yabinsk and she would once again be alone to shoulder her responsibilities.

Besides, she instinctively prickled at the suspicion Dimitri desired to transform her into a helpless female that depended utterly on him. She could never become such a creature.

Deliberately she moved through the cabin she had shared with Dimitri and into the connected chamber. She would not allow herself to be distracted by memories of being seated before the built-in dresser as Dimitri brushed her hair, or her giggling pleasure as he had slowly and thoroughly bathed her in the copper tub, or the strength of his arms as he had carried her to the narrow bed.

Pacing the floor, Emma forced her thoughts to Anya.
Dear Lord, please let her be near,
she silently prayed.
And let her be unharmed.

A surprisingly short period of time passed before she heard the sound of Dimitri's approaching footsteps. Turning, she watched as he entered the cramped space, his dark features unreadable.

“Has something happened?” she demanded.

“The
Katherine Marie
docked this morning.”

She frowned. Dimitri had been confident they could outrun his father's bulkier ship, but only days out of port they had been hit by a storm that had thrown them off course and damaged the mast. Obviously, the delays had
meant they'd arrived later than Dimitri had planned, but Emma could think of nothing beyond her vast relief that the
Katherine Marie
had made it safely to harbor, and that she hadn't been mistaken about the destination.

“Then my sister is here,” she breathed.

“It would seem so.”

“Thank God.” She frowned at the frustration that shimmered in his golden eyes. “What is wrong?”

“Huntley placed servants on the docks to keep watch, but my father's crew managed to unload their cargo and slip past the guards unnoticed. She could be anywhere.”

Her brief surge of hope began to fade as she realized the daunting task of searching London for a handful of girls. It could take days, even weeks. Always assuming they had not spirited Anya out of the city.

“Surely they cannot have gone far?”

As if sensing her growing distress, he moved forward to take her hands in a firm grip.

“We will find Anya,” he murmured, his warm touch and low voice enough to soothe her fears.

Emma was unnerved by the realization of how deeply he affected her. Almost as if…no. She would not even think it. Dimitri Tipova had proven he could seduce her body, she damned well would not allow him to seduce her heart.

With an effort, she tilted her chin and met his gaze squarely.

“You said Huntley. Do you mean the duke?”

“Yes.” He lifted his brows. “Are you acquainted?”

She grimaced. Did he truly believe a spinster from a tiny Russian village could be acquainted with a duke? Even with her English mother such a thought was absurd.

“Of course not, but Vanya said she had sent a message to the Duchess of Huntley and that she would provide me assistance.” A pang of regret twisted her heart. “I suppose that was yet another deception.”

“Quite likely she wrote to the duchess. And no doubt Leonida is prepared to offer you whatever assistance you desire without informing her husband of her promise.” His lips curved in a mysterious smile. “She is as headstrong and unmanageable as you.”

“How do you know an English duke?”

“I performed a small service for the duchess a few weeks ago.”

Emma stiffened, an odd tightness squeezing her chest. There was husky amusement in his voice when he spoke of the duchess. As if he were intimately acquainted with her.

“What sort of service?”

He shrugged. “I fear it was a private matter that I am unable to discuss.”