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Authors: Rosemary Rogers

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“Within reason.”

His bronzed features were rigid as Dimitri studied her with an expression of furious disbelief.

“Emma, you are not stupid. You must realize how vulnerable you would be traveling with strangers?” His fingers tightened. “What will you do when a bored husband decides you will offer a convenient diversion during the long voyage? Or when one of the sailors captures you alone?”

She forced herself to meet the blazing golden gaze without flinching. Dimitri Tipova might be the unquestionable leader of the St. Petersburg underworld, but he had no authority over her.

“A woman is always at risk of being abused by men, no matter where she is or what her station.”

He arrogantly peered down the length of his nose. “Not if she is protected as she should be.”

“I have learned to protect myself, Dimitri.”

“Only because you had no other choice.” His fingers eased their grip to brush over her pale cheek. “Now I offer you one.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What precisely do you offer?”

“Stay here with me.”

“As your mistress?”

He gently outlined her unsteady lips. “Call it what you will.”

“And my sister?”

Concentrating on his tender caresses, Dimitri was seemingly oblivious to the dangerous sparks smoldering in her eyes.

“I will send my men to follow the
Katherine Marie
and rescue your sister.”

“Tell me, Dimitri, if I refuse to become your mistress will you allow my sister to become another tragic victim of your father?”

He muttered an angry curse, leaning down until they were nose to nose.

“I told you that I do not barter for sex, Emma. With or without you in my bed I intend to capture my father's ship and return it to Russia so I can expose those involved.”

Her stomach fluttered as his breath brushed her lips. A distant part of her understood the danger of provoking this man. Another part, however, was hurt and angered by his refusal to accept her desperate need to take part in rescuing her sister.

“So you can have your revenge?” she accused.

“Of course.”

“While my sister—”

“Will be safely escorted to her home along with any other victims,” he muttered, his fingers tangling in her hair as his lips skimmed down the line of her throat.

Her heart leaped with a treacherous excitement. “Dimitri.”

“Yes,
milaya?

“What are you doing?”

He nuzzled the pulse that hammered at the base of her
throat. “I do not particularly care for your implications that my only means of persuading you to share my bed is with blackmail.”

Her toes curled in her sensible boots, her body humming with sizzling awareness. Desperately, she pressed her hands against the hard muscles of his chest. This explosive reaction to Dimitri Tipova was a danger she did not know how to battle.

“I will not be distracted.”

“If you believe all I desire is to distract you, then you are even more naive than I suspected.” He breathed against her sensitive skin.

“No, Dimitri.” She arched away from the tormenting kisses. “It is past time that I return to Vanya's.”

The golden eyes narrowed, a slash of color staining his high cheekbones.

“We have not finished our discussion.”

“I did not realize we were sharing a discussion. It seemed very much as if you were issuing orders and expecting me to obey them.”

His brooding gaze lowered to study her lips. “If you will recall, I also offered you an invitation.”

Her pulse gave an eager leap at the memory of his words. Despite her innocence she recognized the touch of a master. Dimitri would be an exciting, skillful, wholly consuming lover. The sort of lover that women would sacrifice husbands, riches, social standing—and all they possess to claim.

He would also be forceful and overbearing and convinced he would always know what was best for those under his protection. He would demand that she give away her hard-earned independence and that was a sacrifice she was unable to make.

Not when he would soon enough lose interest and leave
her to salvage her tattered life. She had been abandoned too many times to risk yet another loss.

Before he could guess her intent, Emma was shoving him away so she could hastily rise to her feet.

“The same invitation that I have turned down from other gentlemen who promised to protect me…”

“Do not compare me to that bastard.” He fiercely overrode her words, his eyes blazing with frustration.

“Then do not insult me by treating me as if I am a foolish chit who must depend upon a man to survive.” Collecting her cloak, she headed for the door. As humiliating as it might be to admit, she could not trust herself when Dimitri was near. One touch and she was lost. “I am perfectly capable of caring for myself and my sister.”

She had reached the door when Dimitri was blocking her path, his hands reaching to grip her shoulders.

“Where do you think you are going?”

“To Vanya's.” Emma tilted back her head, forcing herself to meet his dark glower. “I will walk if necessary.”

His fingers tightened, his temper at the breaking point.

“Do not be a fool. My carriage will return you to Vanya.”

“Thank you.”

He hauled her against his chest, swooping down to kiss her with a brazen hunger.

“I will allow you to flee in fear tonight, but make no mistake,
moya dusha,
you are destined to become my lover,” he murmured against her swollen lips. “And not because you need my assistance, or because I have forced you to my bed.”

Dizzy from the pleasure of his kiss, Emma struggled to think clearly.

“Then why?”

“Because I have tasted your passion. You desire me.”
His hand skimmed down her back, deliberately pressing her against the proof of his arousal. “Desperately.”

Her mouth went dry, her heart thundering in her chest. “Good Lord. Your conceit is astounding.”

A humorless smile tugged at his lips. “No more astounding than your ridiculous attempts to pretend you do not ache to be in my arms.”

It was the biting truth of his words that gave her the strength to wrench out of his grasp and scurry down the hallway. She might yearn to melt in his arms, but she was not a fool.

At least, not a complete fool.

“Goodbye, Dimitri Tipova,” she muttered.

“À bientôt,”
he called, his voice mocking.

It wasn't until she was safely stowed in Dimitri's carriage that she realized he had warned he would see her again rather than saying goodbye.

 

T
HE
S
T.
P
ETERSBURG DOCK
was bustling with activity as Vanya's carriage headed toward the end of a wharf where a sleek wooden vessel swayed on the white-capped waves. Winter was swiftly approaching and soon it would be only the staunchest sailors who would brave the frigid, buffeting waters of the Baltic. In the meantime, there was a frantic pace as sailors, merchants, dockhands and passengers darted among the looming stacks of cargo waiting to be loaded on the various ships.

Emma was relieved to leave the majority of the crowd behind as they halted near the edge of the water. It was unsettling enough to board a ship and sail so far from home without adding the worry of battling through the crowds.

Licking her dry lips, she peered out the window at the waiting ship.

When she had returned to Vanya's home three nights before, she had revealed all she had learned of her sister,
as well as Dimitri's suspicion that Anya was being taken to London. The older woman had been sympathetic, but surprisingly reluctant to assist Emma in finding a means of following Count Nevskaya's ship.

Then yesterday morning, she had come to Emma's private chambers and revealed she had booked passage upon a ship bound for London. Emma had been caught between overwhelming relief and a natural fear at charging into the unknown. For all her pretense of courage, she was not indifferent to the many dangers that lurked once she left the protection of Vanya and Herrick Gerhardt.

And oddly, there had been a strange sense of regret.

She tried to tell herself that it was merely a reaction to the thought of traveling so far from home, but she knew she was not being entirely honest. That bothersome ache in the center of her heart was directly connected to Dimitri Tipova.

Damn his aggravating soul.

Hastily thrusting aside the unnerving thought, Emma turned her head to meet Vanya's searching gaze, managing to conjure a smile of appreciation.

“I do not know how to thank you, Vanya,” she said, reaching across to pat the older woman's hand. “You have been so extraordinarily generous. It will take time to repay you, but I swear—”

“Nonsense,” Vanya firmly interrupted, seemingly embarrassed by Emma's excessive gratitude. “You are not the only one who cares what happens to those poor girls, Emma. And if I were a few years younger I would be traveling to England at your side. As it is, I know that you possess the courage and strength to do whatever necessary to rescue your sister and the others.”

Emma straightened, unashamedly pleased by Vanya's words. At least someone appreciated her determination, she
told herself, smoothing her hand down her thick woolen cloak.

“Thank you.”

“But you must promise that you will take the greatest care and quickly return to me,” she urged. “Herrick Gerhardt will have my head upon a platter when he discovers I assisted you in leaving the country.”

Emma hid her tiny shiver of fear. She would be strong for Anya. She had no choice.

“I promise.”

“And this is the letter of introduction I promised. I have written to Leonida, so I trust she will have ensured there will be someone awaiting you at the London docks, but in the event you find yourself in need, you can use this to call upon assistance from the Russian Embassy.”

Emma unsteadily tucked the envelope into the pocket of her cloak. Seated across from her, Vanya appeared to be yet another useless lady of society with her teal merino gown and pale fur shawl wrapped about her shoulders. But she had proven to be a woman with intelligence and compassion and an ability to take command when necessary. Emma could only hope she did not disappoint the older woman.

“This is so much more than I ever expected.” She bit her bottom lip as she struggled to hold back a ridiculous urge to weep. “I do not know what to say.”

Vanya leaned forward to gently pat Emma's knee that was currently hidden beneath several yards of brown wool.

“You do not always have to depend on yourself, Emma,” she implored. “Accepting help from others does not make you weak.”

Emma frowned, puzzled by the woman's peculiar manner. “I am accustomed to taking care of myself.”

“As was I, but I have discovered that my independence was not nearly so threatened as I feared it would be when I
opened my heart to another.” She appeared as if she desired to say more, but as they both caught sight of the large man attired in the rough clothing of a common sailor, she instead settled back in the leather seat. “I believe this young man is here to assist with your bags and to escort you to the ship.”

Emma sucked in a deep breath, refusing to acknowledge the flutters of fear in the pit of her stomach.

“I will never forget what you have done for me.”

“Hmm.” Vanya shook her head. “I am not entirely certain that is a good thing.”

“Vanya?”

“Just know that I have tried to do what I think best for you.”

“Of course, I know. I could not have asked for a greater friend.”

The door to the carriage was pulled open by Vanya's driver and without giving herself time to hesitate, she allowed herself to be assisted into the chill morning breeze.

“Be brave,
mon enfant,
” Vanya called softly.

CHAPTER NINE

D
IMITRI IGNORED THE
shifting deck beneath his feet as he poured over the charts his first mate had spread across the bench.

It was not his first journey aboard his sleek Baltimore clipper. He occasionally felt the need to escape from the grinding demands of his role as Beggar Czar. There were few things more exhilarating than skimming across the water, surrounded by silence, and knowing that his duties were being left far behind.

Not that he had made such a large investment for the rare days of freedom. He was a businessman first and foremost. The ship had been built in the Americas to be the fastest on the waters and his crew had been hired in London from among the finest of all English seamen. As a result, he had made a small fortune in transporting various diplomats, noblemen, and even a few wealthy merchants who preferred to keep their travels confidential.

Which made it perfect for his current plans.

A grim smile curved his lips at the sound of approaching footsteps, and turning his head he waited for the large sailor with a thatch of black hair and weathered features to halt in front of him.

“Is our passenger aboard?” he demanded.

Andrew Simmons scowled, his hands shoved into the pockets of his wool coat.

“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?”

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