Then Came You (The Gamblers #1)(57)

Alex pulled a bank draft from the inner pocket of his coat and dropped it to the table. She stared at the slip of paper in astonishment, then at his face. He smiled slightly, as if he understood the panicked thoughts that whirled through her mind. Good God, he was serious.

The situation took on a dreamlike haze. Lily felt like an observer rather than a participant. She had to refuse the bet. It was the ultimate gamble, with stakes unacceptably high. If she won, the money would save her daughter. But if she lost…

For a moment she tried to imagine it. Turning cold with fright, she gave a tiny shake of her head. Alex’s gaze dropped to her trembling lips, and the amused gleam in his eyes dimmed. When he spoke again, his tone was oddly gentle. “What if I pledge another five?”

There were hoots and cheers all around them. “It’s up to fifteen now!” Tadworth called. Men began to drift in from the dining and smoking rooms. Onlookers scattered back and forth to spread the news.

Usually Lily relished being the center of attention. Her reputation for wildness had been well earned. She had laughed, danced, and cavorted, played pranks that were repeated all around London. But this wasn’t a joke or prank…this was life or death. She couldn’t throw the wager back in his face—she was too desperate for that. She needed help, and there was no one to turn to. There was only a pair of piercing gray eyes that saw through her bravado, her shamming, her fragile defenses. Don’t do this to me, she wanted to plead. Mutely she stared at him.

“Your choice, Miss Lawson,” he said quietly.

What choice? Her mind buzzed. What damned choice? She had to put her trust in fate. Perhaps this entire bizarre proposition was divine providence—she had to win, she would win, and use the money to buy more time for Nicole. “N-not with dice,” she heard herself say.

“Our usual game?” he asked.

It was hard to gather enough breath for a reply. “We’ll go to one of the card rooms. Th-three hands?”

Alex’s eyes flickered with satisfaction. He gave a short nod.

“The wager is accepted!” someone cried.

There had never been such an uproar at Craven’s. The noise of the crowd was a roar in Lily’s ears. The men gathered closer in a crushing mob. Lily found herself pinned uncomfortably against the table. Those closest to her tried to withstand the pressure from outside, but the men on the fringe of the gathering were all fighting to reach the table for a good view.

Lily half-turned in confusion, wincing as the curved edge of the table cut into her side. “Stop pushing, I can’t breathe—”

Alex moved swiftly. He reached out and pulled her against him, his arms forming a protective cage around her.

Lily gave a muffled laugh, her heart thudding violently. “Look what you’ve started. My God.”

He spoke softly underneath the din of exclamations. “It’s all right.”

She realized she was trembling, though whether it was from shock, fear, or excitement she didn’t know. Before she could ask what he meant, she heard Derek’s commanding voice.

“ ’Ere now,” Derek was calling loudly. He moved forward, pushing his way through the mass as he spoke. “ ’Ere now, all fall back. Let Miss Lawson ’ave a little air. Fall back, so as the game can start.” The crowd loosened a little, the crush easing as Derek shoved his way to the middle. Alex let go of Lily. Automatically she turned to Derek, her eyes pleading.

Derek wore the same implacable expression as usual. He didn’t look at Alex, but focused on Lily’s small, tense face. “Worvy tells me we ’as a little wager.”

“Three hands of vingt-et-un,” Lily said shakily. “We…we need a card room—”

“No, do it ’ere.” Derek’s snarl of a smile appeared. “More convenient, as all of us can’t ’erd into a card room.”

Lily was stunned at the betrayal. Not one word of caution or concern. Derek was simply going to let it happen. He was even going to take advantage of the spectacle! If she were drowning, he would have offered her a drink.

A flare of anger braced her, gave her strength. “As always,” she said coldly, “you’re not above a little show-manship.”

“I’m not Derek Craven for nofing, gypsy.” His gaze searched the room for his factotum. “Worvy,” he called, “bring a new deck. We’ll see what the devil’s bible ’as to say.”

For the first time in the history of the gambling palace, the action at the hazard table was interrupted. Waiters scurried to bring fresh drinks. Money and markers exchanged hands until the air was filled with a clutter of paper. Voices rose as bets were made and doubled. Lily heard some of the bets with offended horror. Bitterly she realized that most of the men she had gambled with would like nothing better than to see her lose. It would put her in her place, they thought. It would serve her right, for daring to invade the sanctity of the men’s club. Disgusting barbarians, the lot of them.

“Shall I deal?” Derek asked.

“No,” Lily said sharply. “Worthy is the only man I trust.”

Touching his forehead with a mocking salute, Derek cleared the way for Worthy.

Soberly the factotum polished his spectacles with a handkerchief and replaced them on his face. He broke the seal on the deck. The crowd settled with an expectant hush. Worthy shuffled expertly, the cards flying and snapping in his small hands. Satisfied that it was thoroughly mixed, he placed the deck on the table and looked at Lily. “Cut, please,”