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 spine. “Get off,” she shrieked. “Please.”
He rose then, pulling her up all in a single motion, with an athleticism that almost left her breathless.
With his body off hers, she could breathe again, and think.
And that’s when she realized that Eliza was attempting to wrestle their bag of winnings from a man’s much larger grasp. Chaos had erupted all about them as people yelled, some of them shrieking about the odds of Eliza wresting the bag from the thief. Were they actually betting on her sister? Heathens.
She gasped and started for the man yanking on her sister. But before she’d even taken a step, the man who’d knocked her down had the assailant by the collar.
“Do you know who I am?” He growled in the thief’s face.
The other man took a large swallow. “You’re Bash.”
Bash hauled the man closer as though he barely weighed anything, though the other man must have been twenty stones. “That’s right and do you know why they call me that?”
“N-no-no.” the other man struggled to get out of Bash’s grasp.
“I’m a boxing champion. Knock a man’s teeth out before he can even turn his head. We don’t steal at the Den of Sins,” he growled. “And we especially don’t steal from women.”
His slur was completely gone. Which told Isabella he’d never been drunk. She’d suspected as much. His eyes and hands had been completely steady.
But then why knock her to the ground?
The other man dropped the bag and Eliza pulled it close, clutching the leather to her chest.
“Anyone who picked up coins will set them on the table now if they want to be invited back to this club. And just so you know, five other men besides me were watching so we know who you are. You’ll never make it out the door with the stolen money. We run a clean club.”
A grumbling rumbled through the nearby tables, but money appeared on the table as Eliza moved about and collected the funds the men deposited, her head high.
But Isabella wasn’t feeling nearly as confident as Bash’s glittering gaze focused on her once again. “You. Come with me. We’ve got a few things to discuss.”
“I really shouldn’t,” she whispered, taking a half step back before his massive hand wrapped about her much smaller upper arm. “I need to see my—” She’d been about to say sister…. Drat. This was unraveling rather quickly.
“I’m not asking.” Then he tossed the thief forward, sending the man crashing into a table. “You too.” He pointed at Eliza. Then he began dragging Isabella toward a dark hall.
She swallowed down a scream.
Man, his ass, Bash thought as he pulled the little minx behind him. Well more precisely, her ass. When she’d stood that had been the final tell. No man had an ass that sweet, round, and plump.
His little ruse of tackling her had given him several bits of information.
He’d confirmed what he’d already known. This was a woman.
Despite being thin, she had an unmistakable softness. A slim waist and flared hips gave way to a soft stomach, silky skin, warm supple thighs that had instinctively cradled him and him hard as granite in his trousers.
And she was beautiful too.
He was certain the woman posing as her lover was a relative. They had the same warm, chocolate brown eyes that tilted ever so slightly at the corners. It gave his little imposter the look of a vixen when the rest of her features were delicate. Pure.
He thought the shape of her eyes to be her most truthful feature. Any woman willing to pose as a man, gamble the night away, and then engage in a small brawl had to be a vixen.
“Please,” she whimpered, attempting to tug her arm from his hand. “You’re hurting me.”
He loosened his hand but didn’t let her go. How could he have thought her a man for even a moment? He stopped in the hall and turned to look at her.
Her eyes had grown larger as they made their way down the dark hall, her lips parted in what was likely fear but made her look…kissable.
If it weren’t for the shadow of whiskers…
Taking out his handkerchief, he scrubbed at the dark spots on her face, smearing them more than anything else. He told himself he was revealing her ruse and he ignored the voice that said he just wanted to see her without the powder on her face. Was she as lovely as he imagined?
The other woman stopped just behind them. “You’re only going to spread the dust around and make a mess.”
His eyes flicked to the other one. The one Menace considered so beautiful. She was nearly perfect, but somehow, even dressed as a man, the girl he held was softer, more vulnerable, more appealing.
His gaze rested back on her large eyes once again. “There’s no need to be afraid. We just need to talk. That’s all.”
“Then stop pulling me about like a beast,” she snapped back and yanked her arm from his grasp.
He smiled at that. “I’d not have pulled you, but I was fairly certain you’d run.”
“Why would I do that?” Her chin notched higher. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”
He smiled at that. “Somehow, posing as a man doesn’t exactly seem right, now does it?”
“I mean I didn’t steal.”
“That’s good to know. I hope you’re willing to explain that to my associates as well.” And then he turned back to continue down the hall.
“Associates?” Came her strangled cry.
He stopped. Hearing her fear. Why the hell did he wish to comfort her? She was obviously swindling him. Why else would she go to such elaborate lengths to hide her identity?
“You should have thought of how afraid you’d be before you attempted to fool and cheat us.”
“Please,” came the other woman’s snort. She didn’t sound the least bit frightened at all. “We would never cheat such a place.”
“Really?” He looked back at his little vixen. Truth be told, he couldn’t seem to keep his gaze off her.
She nodded. “What was your name? Bash?”
A trickle of pleasure snaked down his spine at the sound of his name on her lips. He straightened up to keep his wits about him and his thoughts from more carnal imaginings. “That’s right.”
She nibbled at her lip. Which did little to h
elp his wandering mind. “I’ve always been good at cards and…”
He let out a short, humorless bark of laughter. “That wasn’t good. That was perfect. A level no normal person could ever play at.”
“I told you you weren’t normal,” the other woman grumbled.
That made him step back. They were not acting like two people who’d just cheated. They were acting like…well…like they were perfectly innocent.
“I am too normal!” His vixen fired back. Then she drew in a deep breath. “And thank you for having all those men return our winnings to us. It means a great deal.”
He crossed his arms. “I haven’t decided if you’re keeping them or not. That’s what we will discuss in the back room. With my associates.”
The other woman straightened. “Sir. You can’t mean to drag two unattended ladies into a back room with unidentified men.”
He cocked his head, cracking his neck. This was getting ridiculous. “First,” he grated out, running a hand through his hair. “I need to know your names. And second…” He gave them both a hard stare. “You should have thought of that before you dressed as a man, came to a gentlemen’s club unattended, and sat down to gamble for several hours.”
His delicate vixen swallowed and then looked down at her feet. “I’m Isabella and that is a fair point.” Then she lifted her eyes again and they pleaded. Hellfire and damnation but sympathy dug deep into his soul turning his insides to squishy pudding. “But please understand. That was still a public place. We were more or less safe in a crowd—”
He made a noise of dissent deep in his throat. “That’s what you consider safe?”
She took a half step closer, nibbling on her lower lip. “But this feels very dangerous and…” Her gaze cast down, her long dark lashes sweeping across the pink stain of her cheek. “We can’t be alone in a closed-off room with men we don’t know.”
He sighed. He understood her objection, he supposed. But it had to be done. “You have my word that you are under my protection. No man in that room, including myself, will lay a finger on you.”
“But we don’t know you,” the other one huffed. “How can your word mean anything?”
He shrugged. “My word will have to do. As I said, I didn’t make your choices for you. You did.”
They both dropped their chins at that. Damn but Bash felt like his father again. Stern, tough, unyielding. He hated this version of himself. But he couldn’t let them go either. He needed some answers.
Chapter Three
Isabella twisted her hands together. He had a rather good point. Still, she didn’t want to follow him.
“We don’t have a choice,” Eliza said as she pushed Isabella in the back. Then she looked at Bash. “I’m Eliza and Isabella is my sister.”
He looked at Isabella again, his gaze sweeping from the top of her head to the tips of her boots. “Take off that silly hat.”
“Is my hat silly?” Isabella asked as she dutifully removed it from her head. Even in the dark, he could see her hair was a thick rich brown, just like her eyes. Pins created the illusion of side whiskers while a ribbon held the hair back. It had been folded over to give it the appearance of a short queue.
With a quick hand, he pulled at the ribbon and the rest of the length tucked in her shirt came tumbling out, curls spilling down her back.
“Sir,” she said as she drew in a sharp breath and then slapped his hand back. “You just said you’d not touch me.”
He winced. “Apologies. And the hat is ridiculous on you.”
Eliza smirked. “The Honorable Stanley Frecklemeyer surely thinks the hat is very fashionable.”
Isabella held back a groan. Why was her sister revealing such information now? But Bash said nothing. “The night is waning, ladies. Shall we?”
Isabella swallowed down her fear. Much as she thought this a terrible idea, she didn’t see another choice, so she gave a quick, stiff nod. They needed to leave with that money. He turned and she followed.
She was tall, but this man dwarfed her. Easily more than six feet tall, his shoulders were incredibly broad, his arms massive, his thighs… She swallowed again, a dry lump clogging her throat. She’d felt those thighs. Powerful. That was the word.
Beautiful. That was another one.
Exciting. She rubbed her heating cheeks.
“Ask him to protect you again,” Eliza whispered close to her ear. “Quickly. He likes it.”
Her head whipped back as she studied her sister. Was Eliza correct? How would her sister know that?
But as she was no good at that sort of thing, she’d trust whatever Eliza was reading into the situation. “Bash?”
He stopped, looking back at her again. “Yes?”
“You’re certain we’ll be safe?”
She watched and to her complete amazement, Eliza was right. Isabella saw him soften. His shoulders dropped and his face relaxed. “Of course. I assure you I will keep you from harm. I gave you my word.”
“Interesting,” Eliza muttered behind her. “Very interesting.”
They entered a room without any windows. There was a table in the center and several chairs.
Without a word, Bash crossed the room and grabbed a pitcher of water from a side table. He poured some into a glass and then dipped his pocket square into the liquid. Crossing back to her, he raised the wet cloth. “For your face.”
Eliza touched her back. “Go ahead.”
Rubbing the cloth all along her skin, she scrubbed at her chin and cheeks, then pulled the cloth away, now covered in black soot. But rather than walk away, he took the cloth from her hand and gently wiped several spots she’d missed.
“Much better,” he mumbled just as the door opened again.
Without thinking, she spun about to face the door and took a step back to be closer to Bash. Four men walked through the door, each distinctly handsome.
He pressed his large hand to the small of her back. “You’re fine,” he murmured. Then he looked at the men. “Gentlemen. These fine ladies are Isabella and Eliza.”
Eliza gave a small, satisfied, scheming smile. Isabella knew that look. Her sister was planning something. And she didn’t appear the least bit afraid. She stood taller, her chin notching up.
A particularly handsome gentleman stared back at Eliza looking like a dog who’d just discovered a meaty bone.
Isabella frowned. Despite Bash’s assurances, this was dangerous.
“I’d like to introduce my associates,” Bash said just behind her. He pointed to one of four men, the one who’d been eyeing Eliza. “We call him Menace. Not to worry, he’s harmless.”
Isabella clucked her tongue. “Says who?”
But Menace’s eyebrows rose as a smile spread across her lips. “You’re even more adorable than I imagined. I never considered how nice a man’s pants might look on a woman.” He stepped closer as his gaze perused her again.
Menace reached up a hand to touch one of the pins in her hair, causing her to shiver, but he never got the chance.
Bash’s hand grabbed the other man’s, holding Menace’s fingers an inch from her head. “There is no touching.”
“Well,” a man with unfashionable long, blond hair said as he chuckled. “This is going to be fun.”
Isabella took another half step back and promptly bumped into the front of Bash. He brought his hand to her hip, steadying her with a touch that sent shockwaves cascading all through her.
“I’ve given the ladies my assurance that they are perfectly safe,” Bash said, his voice rising up over the group. “What we want to know is how Isabella was able to win so many consecutive hands.”
“Isabella?” another man asked. His dark hair was perfectly groomed, his clothing impeccable, his looks very wholesome. “What a pleasure to meet you.”
“That is Vanity,” Bash said behind her, his hand still held her. “The other is Blasphemy and the one who has yet to speak is Infamy.”
“Names that inspire a feeling of safety in a woma
n,” Eliza replied. “So let’s make this as quick as possible. We did not cheat.”
Her words were met with silence. Bash had dropped Menace’s hand, but he still held her hip.
Finally, Menace spoke. “How did you win, then?”
Isabella drew in a deep breath. Little else but the truth would get them out of this mess. “There’s no trick, no untruth. I just remember the cards. That’s all.”
Bash squeezed her hip again. He knew he needed to let go, but she fit his hand so nicely. Like her body had been made to be in his hands.
But her words surprised him. Remember the cards? “You mean the ones in your hand? What’s to remember?”
Isabella shook her head. “No. I mean, I remember what cards I’ve played but also what cards other players have played from that hand and from the one before it and the one before that.”
“Makes her terribly boring to play with,” Eliza said, crossing her arms over her chest.
No one said a word.
The silence stretched on and on.
Finally, Infamy cleared his throats. “I don’t mean to imply that you’re lying but that’s impossible.”
Eliza smiled. “It isn’t.” Then she turned to Bash. “You patted her down. I know you did. Did you find any evidence she was cheating?”
Menace pointed at Eliza. “You could have been looking over the other player’s shoulders.”
“I never moved.”
“Do you have a pocket mirror?” Menace asked. “Perhaps I should check. If you searched one lady, I’ll force myself to search the other.”
Eliza pointed right back at him. “You’ll not lay a single finger on me, cad.”
Menace chuckled. “You want me to search with my teeth?”
Isabella drew in a quick breath as she noted the color rising in her sister’s cheeks. Eliza had a bit of a temper. “No searching is necessary.” She quickly stepped in front of her sister. Bash’s hand dropped from her hip and cold air hit the flesh, making her shiver. “I’ll show you.”
“Show us?” Bash asked behind her.
She looked over her shoulder, meeting his dark glittering eyes. “Yes. Do you have a deck of cards?”
Duke of Decadence Page 2