Unending Devotion (Michigan Brides #1)(97)

He forced his eyes away from the temptation. He couldn’t imagine how any man could stay strong against lust when he was surrounded on all sides by such scantily attired women.

The dealer across the table from him gave a short laugh. “Naw, Bella ain’t back.” His fingers arched against the cards, sending them cascading with a snap and speed of a seasoned gambler.

“But Carr’s got something better tonight.” One of the other men grinned. “He’s breaking in Bella’s sister.”

The blood drained from Connell’s body, leaving him breathless and weak. Was he too late to protect Lily from rape? He rose from his chair an inch, eyeing the bouncer at the base of the stairway. Could he overpower the man and make it upstairs?

“The man who puts the most money in the pot,” the dealer said, nodding toward the tin pail next to the bar, “gets the first chance with her.”

“Hope you’re ready to lose some money,” said the third man, “’cuz I’m aiming to take that pretty little spitfire to bed first.”

The man nodded in the direction of the bar. At that moment, the woman turned, two mugs of beer in each hand.

Her rich woodsy brown eyes glowered with fiery sparks.

Lily!

His heart crashed forward.

Her brows shot up, and she stopped so suddenly that some of the foaming amber liquid sloshed out of the mugs. Her lips began to curve into a smile, and she opened her mouth.

He gave a quick shake of his head, warning her not to say anything, not to acknowledge him, hoping she’d understand the need to play along with his charade.

Her smile withered before it had the chance to bloom. She promptly forced a scowl back to her countenance, one fierce enough to ward off any man who might grab her as she passed. But her eyes were still wide and questioning, and—dare he say—filled with happiness to see him?

He wanted to stand up, hoist her over his shoulder, and make a run for it. But he knew he’d only get a gunshot in his back and would put her in danger as well.

No, he’d have to stay calm, somehow get ahold of her, and make sure she was tucked securely by his side before the other men barged in.

“I’m here to win, fellas,” he said picking up the cards the dealer shoved his way. “Especially if the winner gets Bella’s sister.”

Lily neared the table and plunked the mugs down, spilling more of the beer. But the men had turned their gazes on her and didn’t notice anything except the low neckline of her bodice and her exposed cleavage.

“There she is,” one of the men said, grinning like an idiot.

Connell’s fingers went to his knife, and he fought the urge to get up and cut out the ogling eyes of each of the men. Nobody had a right to look at Lily’s flesh—not even him, not until he married her. And the minute he had her safe, the first thing he was going to do was find a preacher and make her his wife.

“Hi there, beautiful,” he said. “Has anyone told you lately you’re pretty enough to stop a man’s breath right in his chest?”

A smile twitched at her lips. She wiped her hands on the satin of her dress as if she relished staining it and destroying the rich material. “Well now, for that kind of compliment, I might just have to give you a little reward.”

She rounded the table toward him, swaying her hips with each step. The message in her eyes said she was playing along, that she understood that their charade was a matter of life and death.

Some of the men hooted, and others called out crude suggestions.

Despite the danger of the situation he couldn’t keep from appreciating her beauty, the way her long, loose curls flounced about her face and on her bare shoulders, the darkness of her hair against the smooth creaminess of her skin, the sparkle in her eyes.

She stopped in front of him.

He scooted back from the table. Should he grab her now and make a run for it? He glanced at the large clock on the wall next to the bar.

He had nine minutes left.

Something flickered in her eyes—questions, urgency, fear. But she kept her face a mask of calmness. “Hmm . . . let’s see, what kind of reward should I give you?” She walked her fingers up his arm to his shoulder.

He forced himself not to look at the door or the bouncers—not yet.

Instead, he fixed his attention on Lily. “How about sitting right here on my lap?” He patted his knees, urging her to draw nearer, to let him shield her.

Her brows inched higher as if she couldn’t believe he’d willingly ask her to do something so scandalous, but with her palm she pushed him back and then plopped herself down on his lap.

The movement brought another chorus of catcalls and whistles from around the room.

The attention was just what they needed to draw the bouncers away from their posts.

He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, catching the lingering lavender scent that was uniquely hers.

“Mister, you’re in luck,” she said loudly enough so that all the men could hear. “First, I’m going to give you a big kiss.”

“How big?” he asked.

“How big do you want?”

Her gaze didn’t leave his. Even though her voice was light and playful, there was nothing but fear and determination in her eyes.

She was good at the charade.

He forced himself to grin, to play the dangerous game. “Let’s see what you’ve got. Then I can decide if I want to fill up that pail and take you upstairs.”