Seduced By A Devil (The Deville Brothers #1) - Wendy Vella Page 0,2

Gabe entered.

Looking around the room, he searched for Dimity and found her on the filthy bar, dancing and singing. Her bodice was cut low. Skirts tucked up at the sides. He felt that little jab of heat in his belly he got when she was near. Dark hair hung free of restraint in ringlets to her waist, and he knew those blue eyes would be alive with some emotion; as yet, he was not sure what. Lush and curved, she was taller than Abby. Disturbing Dimity Brown was definitely no shrinking violet. And he’d wanted her from the first moment he’d seen her.

Belying her shrewish temperament, she had the face of an angel. Soft creamy skin, lovely full lips, and a smile that lit her entire face.

Men were five deep looking up at her and another woman beside her, cheering. Gabe moved closer.

What could possibly have put her in a place like this?

She had a smile on her face, but it didn’t reach her eyes—in fact, now that he could see her expression clearly, he saw the desperation. She hated what she was doing; he just had to find out what or who had put her here.

“Aww, come on, lovely, show us a bit more!” One of the men roared the words at the women. The lady beside Dimity smiled coyly back, clearly enjoying herself. Dimity’s smile dropped, and she scowled at the man.

“She’s a right bitch, that one. Not sure why Jack employs her,” he heard someone say as Gabe passed him on his way to the bar.

“Jack says she’s efficient and doesn’t take any rubbish from anyone.”

“Wouldn’t mind having some fun with her. She’s a shapely lass.”

Gabe elbowed the man in exactly the right spot, and the air hissed from his lungs.

“‘Ere, you watch yourself!” he gasped.

Dimity Brown may not be high on his list of morning callers, but Gabe would have no man insulting her but him. She had irritated him from the first time he’d met her. But his sister had liked her, so he’d employed her and regretted it every day since.

There was a confidence about the woman that annoyed him. An arrogance. She looked down her nose at him, and yet he was the one with the title. She’d never been intimidated by him as many were.

Gabe watched as a hand grabbed Dimity’s ankle. She tried to kick it away, but it traveled upward.

“Release her!” His words rose above the noise of the others. Surprise had the man who was touching Dimity step back.

Looking up at her, Gabe watched the shock on her face change to shame, then anger.

“What are you doing here?”

“My sister is worried about you and sent me to find you.” He raised his voice above the roar as he muscled his way to stand beneath her.

She loved Abby; he saw it in the tears that formed in her blue eyes at the mention of her name.

“Tell her I am well. Now leave.”

“This is you being well, is it?” Gabe grunted as someone shoved him in the back.

“Go away, Lord Raine. I am working.”

“Come down off that bar, Dimity, and I will take you home.”

“No.” She started singing loudly, swishing her skirts, the hem rubbing his cheek. Gable swiped it aside. “I no longer have a home.”

“Get lost, she’s having fun. This ain’t the place for a fancy-dressed gentleman. You’ll end with your pockets empty and your pretty face bruised if you don’t leave.”

Gabe turned to face the man who nudged him in the back again.

“Back away,” he growled. “Now.”

“Make me.” The man’s jaw jutted out, and those around him urged him on.

“Don’t touch him!” The words came from Dimity. “He’s leaving.”

“I’m not leaving without you.” He looked at her over his shoulder.

“Don’t be a fool. This is no place for the likes of a soft-bellied nobleman,” she said between verses. “An earl.” She spat out his title with her usual disrespect.

Hell and damnation, only this woman could boil his blood in a matter of seconds.

“Shut up and get down here.” He grabbed her hand and tugged; she fell into his arms with a loud screech that had his ears ringing.

“Unhand me, you bloody fool! They’ll tear you apart.”

Gabe ignored her, simply placing her over his shoulder. Clamping a hand around her legs, he began to wade through the crowd of men, who were now howling their protests that he was taking their entertainment away.

He used his legs and the free hand, ensuring every strike hit its mark and would subdue,