Duke of Decadence (Lords of Scandal #9) - Tammy Andresen Page 0,3

plan to deal with their potential thieves.

He was relaxed but he wasn’t a fool. And any gambler trying to cheat him would understand not to take advantage of the Duke of Decadence.

Chapter Two

Isabella tried not to shift in her seat, but she found herself adjusting her chair for the third time in as many minutes.

Eliza’s hand flexed on her shoulder and her sister leaned down to whisper closer to her ear. “Would you relax? You’re going to make the other players suspicious.”

Isabella gave a stiff nod. Make them nervous? She was nervous.

Not about the game. She had that well in hand. Had since the beginning. But just to her right, a curtain kept fluttering.

And the dealer was eyeing her.

And the other players were beginning to grumble.

She’d heard one mutter. “How can one man win that much?”

And she could swear another had said, “Cheater,” under his breath.

“We should go soon,” she whispered back, giving Eliza a pleading stare over her shoulder.

Eliza held up her hand, gesturing for Isabella to stay put. “Just one more round.”

Isabella let out a long sigh but turned back to finish the hand. “One more,” she mumbled back as she laid her hand down and collected her winnings.

Several men protested, one banging the table.

Another flashed a pistol at his waist.

Her hand shook as her heart hammered in her chest. She should ignore Eliza and leave the table. Stand and walk away before they got any madder.

But as she tried to push out of the chair, her legs gave a decided wobble. And Eliza touched her shoulder. Was Eliza going to push her back down or help her out? Her sister was their strength. But she could also push them hard when she had a goal in her sights.

Right now her goal was collecting the money they’d need.

“You’ve had far too much whisky, love,” Eliza purred. “Let me help you up.”

“Love?” the man just to her left mumbled. “Why don’t you come here, and I’ll show you love.”

Isabella swallowed. They’d stayed too long. The crowd was getting restless.

She took Eliza’s hand and started to rise, pulling a pouch from her pocket to collect her winnings. “I do believe you’re right. My head.” And she swiped a hand across her forehead, trying to be rough like a man but afraid she’d just looked awkward and strange. With shaking fingers, she started dumping piles of coins into the bag. “Thank you for the game, gentlemen.” She tried to make her voice low and deep, but it sounded strange to her ears.

“You can’t leave now.” A third player stood, clenching his fists. “You have to give us a chance to win back our money.”

“Sorry.” She swayed on her feet. “Not tonight.”

“We’ll come back tomorrow.” Eliza smiled. “You’ll get your chance.”

She glared at her sister. What they’d won tonight would keep them for the next six months. Returning was an awful idea.

Suddenly a man crashed into her and before she knew what happened, she was falling to the ground with him groping to stop her descent.

While in midair, his hands were everywhere. Her jacket, her trousers pockets, her back. Then they crashed to the floor, his superior weight coming down on hers, stealing all the wind from her lungs.

Money careened through the air, as her winnings scattered to the floor. Eliza gave a cry, then scrambled to pick them up.

But Isabella couldn’t move. Partially because the man’s weight had stolen all her breath. But also because the most piercing black eyes stared down at her, pinning her to the floor.

“Sthorry,” he rumbled, his slur belying the sharp look of his eyes. “Didn’t mean to knock you down.” His words came out fuzzy even as his gaze narrowed.

Distantly, Isabella realized other men were dropping to the ground too, collecting money by the fistfuls.

But her gaze was transfixed.

Because, as her breath returned, she realized this man was lying on top of her. His muscular weight pushing into her softer curves, his body hard, and strong, and stunningly exciting. Her legs had naturally spread apart to accommodate his and his hips nestled between her thighs.

His arms propped his upper half off her body, but his face was shockingly close to hers. Never had she been held by a man like this and it was…utterly divine. And a bit frightening.

“Please get off me, sir,” she cried, pushing at his chest.

“What?” he asked as he slid his hands over her hips. He didn’t pinch or grope but seemed to…search.

For the first time, real fear trickled down her