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He’d known other lovely women, some with features more classically beautiful than hers. But there was an amazing something about Severina that had captured him from the start.
She was tall for a female, though not as tall as he. She was statuesque and moved with a serene elegance. Her neck and shoulders were graceful and seemed especially so when she wore her hair braided like a crown as she did this morning. With the sun firing those chestnut strands with burnished golds and reds, he could almost imagine it as a jewelled royal diadem.
Her arms were long and sleek, smoothly muscled. Her hands were nervous today. Without meaning to, he thought of her palms sliding over his body during the night, of how urgently she’d held him. He’d always known her calm exterior hid inner fire, but he’d been startled by the heat in her kisses. She’d been hungry…Could it be that she’d missed him?
Lucan forced himself away from that particular pain.
His eyes swept down her body, which was perfectly proportioned and slender, but with curves that made him ache. He envisioned the long legs beneath her tunic and then wished he had not. Those legs had parted beneath him last night; he’d understood the invitation and moved eagerly into the place, shuddering with pleasure at the heat and moisture he’d felt even through their clothing. Another few minutes and he’d have stripped them both bare and made love to her. He’d probably be regretting that now if he had.
Or would he?
He wondered if he’d gone about everything backwards. He’d once hoped for trust before intimacy, but maybe intimacy would have helped her find trust.
He didn’t know. She made him so damned confused.
He pushed the disturbing thoughts aside and focused on Severina as she stood before him. The garment she wore today enhanced her beauty perfectly. Its deep indigo colour deepened the silvery charcoal of her eyes and made her skin as smooth as polished ivory.
She watched him, too.
Together they stood, quietly observant, each tasting the familiar essence of the other as wisps of desire curled around the room. It was he who finally broke the spell.
‘I’m not early,’ he said. ‘You’re late.’
Her lips curved. ‘I’m never late.’
It was a nod to the familiar. They’d practised this as a ritual during their courtship.
The mood this morning was different, not quite playful, not completely trusting, and with the memory of the night’s shared passion still twisting between them. But they found comfort in sharing this familiar ground.
‘Call it whatever you will.’ He smiled as he extended his hand for her to come to him. ‘I forgive you, Severina.’
The words came out all wrong. Somehow, his offering of a lighthearted jest transfigured itself into a bitter imp so that anger and hurt from the past spilled out instead.
He hadn’t expected that and neither had she. She sensed the darkness in his tone and glanced sharply up at him.
He hurried to smooth over his misstep. ‘Be late any time you want,’ he said, ‘if only you’ll arrive looking as beautiful as now.’
She’d already taken his arm, and because she was so near he could easily see the tumble of emotion in her eyes.
She was as confused as he.
She drew in a breath and forced a smile. ‘Thank you,’ she said simply.
It hurt him, the pain he glimpsed in her. For a moment he was tempted to feel compassion, but he resisted that dangerous pull. This time, he’d take care to protect his heart, even if she wed him. Especially if she wed him.
‘I’ve sent word ahead,’ he said, leading her towards the door. ‘The architect will be waiting.’
He smiled and opened the way to the street. ‘Apollodorus is a busy man and an exacting one. You’ll need to be specific and detailed about proposed changes, but I promise you’ll not be disappointed in his work. He’s a genius, the best. He is the very best.’
She’d been surveying their surroundings, but turned in sudden concern. ‘Can you…can we afford him?’
Lucan chuckled. ‘Yes, we can.’ He took her elbow and steered her down the street. ‘Stop worrying and come along. We have an inn to save.’
For a moment she looked disturbed, but then she smiled.
And Lucan, caught by the shimmer of light in her silvery eyes, knew how it felt to take an arrow straight through the heart.
Rome was a vibrant city. Even at this early hour it teemed with the energy of its masses—slave women carrying clay vessels to and from the public water fountains, men on their way to the baths or to the homes of their patrons, young boys hawking their family’s wares or, if they were of wealthier parents, making their way to school.
Severina was pleased that Lucan was in the mood to talk. She’d been afraid of awkwardness between them because of the passion they’d fallen into the night before.
But Lucan must have forgot it already. Instead, he talked about the man she was soon to meet. Apollodorus had built Emperor Trajan’s war bridges and siegeworks during the Dacian War, and according to Lucan, the architect was a veritable genius—part-engineer, part-builder, part-sculptor, part-artist. His designs were masterworks of quality. When the war was done, he’d returned with the Emperor to Rome and was currently engaged in a huge design project, the awe-inspiring new forum that Trajan was building as his legacy and gift to the Roman people.
It helped that Lucan was in a talkative mood, because she certainly wasn’t. All she could think about as he led her through the streets was the strength of the muscled arm beneath her fingertips, the earthy scent of man which surrounded her and…sex.
Maybe that was because of the erotic dream she’d had about Lucan during her turbulent night.
The more intimate details were somewhat sketchy now. But Lucan had loved her and she’d taken him eagerly, wanting him as he came into her warmth, hungry for the slide of his flesh into hers. His body was strong and warm, and he’d murmured gentle love words against her skin—
‘Did you hear me, Severina?’ Lucan’s voice intruded. ‘I asked you a question.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she stammered. ‘I was…elsewhere.’
There was amusement in his gaze. ‘I’m boring you.’
‘No, no.’ Quite the opposite. I’m fascinated by the way you move, by the heat of your hand on the small of my back, by the gold fire in your eyes…
Gods above—what was the matter with her? Her body was so alive that even the rub of her stola against her nipples was an almost unbearable stimulation.
‘I was saying that we’re a little early yet. Do you want something to eat?’
As if she could think about food right now, when her lower body tingled with unaccustomed heat.
‘I’m not hungry,’ she said. ‘But if you are, then please…go ahead.’
His lips curved. What beautiful lips he had. She wanted to taste them with an almost fierce longing.
‘Yes, I’m hungry,’ he said. ‘I’m always hungry.’
Was it her imagination that there seemed deeper meaning in that simple statement? Could he be thinking the same erotic thoughts as she?
Of course not.
And she’d better stop this. It was ridiculous to want Lucan. Even when they’d been on better terms, she’d known that kind of intimacy to be off limits for him.
But that was before Lucan had left his faith.
And now? She didn’t know. She could hardly ask him if he’d given up his celibacy, if he was enjoying sensual pleasures again and if he might want to enjoy them with her…She wasn’t seriously thinking of doing that, was she?
She was.
Her entire body sang with desire. Her breasts were full and throbbing, her lower parts twitched every time he smiled. He smiled far too often.
Thankfully, Lucan didn’t notice her unusual preoccupation with lust. His conversation was common and easy, his glances no deeper than usual. And when his hand accidentally grazed too far down her backside in guiding her through the restaurant door, he’d been unaffected by the touch.
She was the one with the problem.
Severina looked around the restaurant, breathed deeply of the food-scented air, and stubbornly willed her body into submission. Time to give herself a good scolding.
It was one thing to acknowledge that she was a normal female and had physical needs. It was another thing entirely to use Lucan to appease those hungers. That would open a door she’d already closed. It would renew old feelings, quicken old hurts. It would be the wrong thing to do.
But then Lucan returned with a round cake of bread and a plump sausage. A long, plump sausage cased in a moist, oily skin. She watched in utter fascination as his deft fingers took up a knife, opened a small slit in the round crust of bread and slowly, so slowly slid the meat into the opening. Her lips parted as he lifted the food to his mouth.
Lucan’s low groan of satisfaction started the sharp throbbing in her body all over again. ‘Oh, yes,’ he said. ‘That’s good bread.’
She sucked in air and tried not to notice the ecstasy of his chewing and swallowing.
‘Sure you’re not hungry?’ Lucan’s voice held a touch of amusement.
She jerked back to reality. ‘Hungry?’ she repeated, the word sounding an odd, husky note. She cleared her throat. ‘No, I’m not…really, I’m not.’
He gestured towards the bread-wrapped sausage he’d lowered from his mouth to his plate. ‘Are you sure? You’re staring at my food.’
‘Oh, please. I am not.’
‘You were. I swear you were.’ His eyes seemed to dance with laughter. ‘You looked at my food like you’re starving, like you’ve never seen a sausage, like you’ve never before watched a man eat.’
Severina’s face suffused with heat. She had been staring in just that way and she knew it. But not for the reasons he thought.
It was only that she’d dreamed that dream.
‘I’ll be happy to buy you something.’ He gestured towards his plate. ‘Do you like sausage, Severina? I’ll buy one for you. Or I’ll share mine.’
She smothered a groan beneath her fist. She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.
‘All right, I know what we’ll do.’ Lucan took up his knife, cut the big roll in half and handed the larger part to her.
‘No. I do not want your sausage,’ she said through tight lips.
Lucan’s smile surprised her. Did he mock her?
‘Ah, I remember now. You prefer sweet.’ He lowered the food to the plate, slid the sausage from the bread and took up a small clay jar with a spoon. ‘This citrus spread should be just the thing.’
Delicately, almost lovingly, Lucan widened the slit in the bread with his knife.
‘The bread’s good,’ Lucan said as he put down his knife and scooped up a spoon full of the citrus spread. ‘But sometimes it’s a little dry without the right touch. Let me see if this helps.’ He filled the crevice with a generous amount of the sticky spread and closed the two halves together.
Severina watched in helpless fascination as he lifted it to his lips. His tongue…oh, gods. His tongue came out to lick the spread at the edges of the slit.
Severina realised she held her breath.
Lucan’s eyes closed in brief appreciation. ‘Perfect,’ he said, opening them again to fix his intense gaze on her. ‘I love that sweet taste. It’s good. And it’s all yours if you want it.’
Severina let out her breath in an unsteady puff.
He didn’t notice that as he handed her the food. ‘I like sharing this with you again,’ he said quietly, his gaze locking with hers.
Severina wondered if she were wrong to hear subtle meaning in the words. It seemed he didn’t refer to the food at all.
Their gazes held. There was a long moment of silence.
‘You should enjoy life more,’ he said. ‘There’s much beauty to be found in this world, if one only looks for it.’
‘And what beauty should I seek, Lucan?’ she asked breathlessly. ‘Where should I look?’
His smile was slow and sensual. His gold-tipped lashes lowered to shield his gaze. ‘You can find pleasure nearly anywhere,’ he said, his voice a deep, low rumble. ‘Sometimes it’s right in front of you. But you must be willing to let go of your fear. Trust that everything will work out.’
Let go of your fear. Trust.
The words hung in the air between them. She was sure they were speaking of more than this meal or this moment.
‘What are you saying?’ Her voice was a whisper. ‘We can’t go back…can we?’
His expression softened. One hand came up to gently caress her cheek. ‘No. We can’t go back. Nobody ever can. But there’s always tomorrow.’
She closed her eyes against the sadness. ‘Sometimes I wish it could have been different for us.’
He leaned closer. She tasted him in the air she breathed. ‘Do you wish that, Severina? Then speak the word and make it so.’
She wanted to. She wanted him. And she might find such pleasure in this day, this moment…if pleasure were all they sought.
But today led to tomorrow, and that was the problem. Lucan had proposed marriage. It would save her from the censor, but—what if the censor wasn’t the only enemy she faced?
She dared not explain to Lucan why she couldn’t yet give him an answer, or why the choice of marriage could never be a simple yes or no, not for her, not until she knew all the facts.
Did the censor work alone, motivated by nothing more than his own greed? If so, Severina would marry Lucan and do it happily.
But if the censor were in league with her old enemy, marriage to Lucan would not solve her problem. It would only compound it, bringing him into danger along with her.
Until she knew, her future would be uncertain and so would his. If Anok Khai had found her, her worst fears would be realised. And her nightmare might easily become Lucan’s, too.
‘You’re right, Lucan,’ she said, a gladiatrix going for the quick thrust, the most merciful kill. ‘We can’t go back. Nobody ever can.’
Lucan studied her for a long moment, the warmth in his eyes growing colder with every passing second.
He pushed away from her. ‘We should move along now. Apollodorus, for all he’s been a good friend to me, is not always a patient man.’
Severina rose without speaking.
