Then Came You (The Gamblers #1)(102)

“How could you?” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Get away from here.”

“But ’ere is where I belong, cara. I come to take my place now. I ’ave a money, blue blood, everyt’ing to belong. Like when I meet you first in Florence.” His black eyes narrowed insolently. “You make me very sad, bella, not to tell me you ’ave marry Lord Raiford. We ’ave many t’ings to talk about.”

“Not here,” she said through her teeth. “Not now.”

“You take me in there,” he insisted coolly, gesturing to the ballroom. “You introduce me, you become my, ah…” He paused and searched for the word.

“Sponsor?” she asked disbelievingly. “My God.” She put her hand over her mouth, struggling to maintain her composure, aware that people were glancing at them curiously. “Where is my daughter, you insane bastard?” she whispered.

He shook his head tauntingly. “There are many t’ings you do for me now, Lily. After, I bring you Nicoletta.”

She choked back a frustrated, hysterical laugh. “You’ve said that for twenty-four months.” She couldn’t stop her voice from rising. “I’ve had enough, enough—”

He hissed at her to be quiet and touched her arm, making her aware that someone was approaching them. “This is Lord Raiford?” he asked her, noting the man’s golden hair.

Lily glanced over her shoulder and felt her stomach throb sickly. It was Ross, his handsome face alert with curiosity. “No, his cousin.” She turned to face Ross, masking her torment with a bland social smile, but not quickly enough.

“Lady Raiford,” Ross said, looking from her to Giuseppe. “My mother sent me to inquire about your mysterious guest.”

“A friend of mine from Italy,” Lily replied easily, though inwardly she was humiliated at having to introduce him. “Lord Lyon, may I present Count Giuseppe Gavazzi, a recent arrival in London.”

“How fortunate for us,” Ross said with such overdone blandness that it was an insult.

Giuseppe preened and smiled. “It is my ’ope we will both profit from our acquaintance, Lord Lyon.”

“Indeed,” Ross replied in a regal manner reminiscent of his mother. He turned to Lily and asked politely, “Are you enjoying yourself, Lady Raiford?”

“Immensely.”

He regarded her with a thin smile. “Have you ever considered a career on the stage, Lady Raiford? I believe you may have missed your calling.” Without waiting for a reply, he strolled away in no apparent hurry.

Lily swore under her breath. “He’s going to my husband. Leave, Giuseppe, and put an end to this farce! Those seedy rags won’t fool anyone into thinking you’re an aristocrat.”

That infuriated him—she could see the malevolence flaring in his ebony eyes. “I t’ink I stay, cara.”

Lily heard her name being called in greeting as more guests arrived. She threw them a smile and a little wave, and spoke quietly to Giuseppe. “There must be a private room nearby. We’ll go somewhere and talk. Come quickly, before my husband finds us.”

Idly rolling a snifter of brandy in his hands, Ross stood by Alex, who had gathered with the other men in the gentlemen’s room. They were all engrossed in arranging objects on a table to illustrate points as they disputed military tactics. “If the regiments positioned themselves here…” one of them was saying, sliding a snuffbox, a pair of spectacles, and a small figurine to the corner of the table.

Alex grinned and clamped the end of a cigar with his teeth as he interrupted. “No, it’s easier if they split and move here…and here…” He positioned the snuffbox and figurine so that they trapped the enemy, represented by a small painted vase. “There. Now the vase doesn’t stand a chance in hell.”

Someone else spoke up. “But you’ve forgotten the scissors and the lampshade. They’re in a prime position to charge from behind.”

“No, no,” Alex began, but Ross interrupted, pulling him away from the table.

“You have an interesting strategy,” Ross said dryly, while the others continued the battle. “But there is a flaw, cousin. You should always leave a path for retreat.”

Alex glanced back at the table assessingly. “You think I should have left the snuffbox where it was?”

“I’m not talking about the deuced snuffbox, cousin, or any sham battle.” Ross lowered his voice several notches. “I’m referring to your clever little wife.”

Alex’s face changed, his gray eyes freezing. He removed the cigar from his mouth and heedlessly stubbed it out on a silver tray nearby. “Go on,” he invited gently. “And choose your words with care, Ross.”

“I told you Lawless Lily isn’t the kind of woman a man keeps forever. It was a mistake to marry her, Alex. She’ll make a fool of you. She’s making a fool of you at this very moment.”

Alex regarded him with cold fury. He was going to beat Ross to a pulp for speaking of Lily so cuttingly, but first he had to find out what was going on. She might be in some kind of trouble. “Where is she?”

“Hard to tell,” Ross said with a slight shrug. “Just about now I would imagine she’s found a private corner, to share a passionate embrace with an Italian good-for-naught masquerading as a count. Gavazzi was the name, I believe. Sound familiar to you? I didn’t think so.” Ross’s confidence was shaken as Alex gave him a look so darkly promising that it could have come from the devil himself. Then Alex left with silent swiftness. Ross leaned back against the wall indolently and crossed his legs, assured once more that whatever he wanted in life would be his—as long as he had the patience to wait. “As I predicted,” he murmured pragmatically, “I’ll be the next to have her.”