Bryna did not shrink away from his passion, but shifted her hips. Jared’s eye’s flared hot and he began to move. Her smile of triumph drifted into short, desperate gasps of pleasure as he set the rhythm. Each stroke of his cock sent waves of sensations washing over her, drove coherent thought from her mind. He touched her very core and still he denied her release. “Roman!”
He laughed raggedly and through her dazed vision she recognized pure male triumph as he finally, blessedly complied. He reached beneath her, grasped her buttocks and, with one last powerful thrust, drove her to sweet, exquisite explosion.
Gods, gods, gods, yes! Bryna rode the wave, nails digging into his flesh, unable to find breath. He was inside her and at the edge of her muddled thoughts Bryna knew that that was all that mattered. A cry tore from her throat, mixed with Jared’s as they hurtled over the edge together.
Long moments passed before Bryna became aware of anything besides Jared’s hard body atop her own. He’d taken some of his weight onto his trembling arms to avoid crushing her, a concession she should appreciate since her breathing, like his, still came in short, shallow, gasps. She slid her hands along the lines of his torso, savored the feel of him still inside her.
Gods, he smelled wonderful, the heat of his skin brought out the deeper, rich scent of male. She nuzzled the strong cords of his neck and inhaled. Musky spice and earth and…
Warrior
.
Bryna’s eyes fluttered open. Yes, he was a warrior. Though his battles were of a different sort, he was strong and knew how to fight. He shifted his hips and she smiled. And he knew how to love.
His breathing settled, Jared rolled to his side, hooked his leg around hers to bring her along, their bodies still joined. Bryna reveled in the feel of him within her, his hard body molded perfectly along her softer curves. She wished they could stay like this forever. Unwilling to break the bond they had forged, she closed her eyes at the tender stroke of his finger along her cheek.
“Bryna?”
Now would come the explanations of why this should not have happened. Her heart clenched. With a sigh, she opened her eyes. Jared was searching her face, the lines of his face softened in the afterglow of their mating.
“Are all husbands so well pleased by their barbarian wives?”
She started to rise to his bait, then saw something she would have thought impossible—a teasing light in his eyes. She snuggled against him. “Only the drunken ones, husband.”
He chuckled, pressed her close, covering them with a cover. Soon, his breathing evened as he fell into contented slumber. It took longer for sleep to claim her.
Bryna propped her head on her bent arm, studied Jared’s relaxed features. He had regained his freedom. And justice would come when the identity of his enemy was discovered.
But retribution against her? Oh, he had achieved that most certainly, the most potent form of revenge. What better way to exact punishment than to cause her to fall in love?
Damn him.
J
ared leaned against the side of the house, watched Bryna run her hands over the green leaves of a hibiscus bush, her fingers caressing the delicate pink blossoms. Desire flooded him as he imagined her stroking him with that same gentle touch.
She wasn’t like any other woman he’d ever known. Proud beyond reason, headstrong, willful, defiant, wild. A wry smile
tugged at his lips. A perfect barbarian, his woman.
His woman
.
Jared shook his head in wonder. Maybe she really was a witch, for he had surely fallen under her spell. An unexplainable energy sizzled between them whenever they were together. He felt whole when he was with her and he had not felt whole in a long time.
Three weeks had passed since the night of their lovemaking and in that time they had fallen into an easy routine. During the day they spent time together, talking, sharing small random tidbits from their lives, even laughing. They were becoming friends. But at night the friendship ended and they shared the sweet, hot passion of lovers.
She had even helped bridge the distance between himself and his father, finding excuses to leave them in the same room, forcing them together. Just this morning she had inquired about a manuscript Jared was reading which led Flavian to interject his scholar’s opinion. Only after he had spent an entire hour actually enjoying the debate with his father did he realize she’d quietly slipped out the door. Ten years of estrangement was dangerously close to being reconciled.
Yes, unquestionably a witch.
Bryna raised her head at that moment, his heart swelling at the pleasure that filled her eyes when she met his gaze. He joined her on the bench, brushed his lips teasingly over hers.
She blushed, glanced nervously around the garden. “Someone might be watching.”
He tensed and pulled back. “Does it shame you to be seen kissing a Roman?”
She gave him a wry look. “Not so much anymore. What better place to do so than it the heart of Rome?” She plucked a blossom off the bush, twirled it in her hands. “A slave spends a lot of time trying not to be noticed. I worry sometimes that I will always think like a slave.”
He didn’t say anything, just folded her hand into his. He wanted to drive the fear and worry from her thoughts. But in truth, he was plagued with the same demons. Every time he left his father’s house he looked over his shoulder. He would not relax until they returned to Alexandria. But even there he had enemies.
He leaned over to kiss her again when a large sphere of orange fur launched itself between them. Four sets of sharp claws dug into his leg. “By the gods!”
Bryna giggled and gathered the demon feline into her arms admonishing her, “
Cuini,
that wasn’t nice.”
Jared dabbed blood from the scratches on his leg, sent the cat a menacing glare. “That cat would be better tied into a sack and thrown into the Tiber.”
Cuini
bared her fangs and hissed.
“Stop, she just doesn’t like sharing,” she replied. Rubbing
Cuini
under the chin, she whispered in her ear. The cat purred, licked her on the chin and jumped off her lap. Jared could have sworn it sent him a look of triumph. With a flick of its tail,
Cuini
sauntered off to the kitchen. Bryna failed in hiding her amusement. Clearing her throat she sobered. “Is there any news?”
He blew out a long breath. “Not yet. Father’s contact says bad weather has slowed many of the ships from Alexandria, Caesarea, Antioch. It could be another two weeks.”
Disappointment flashed behind her eyes. “Waiting. That’s all we’ve been doing is waiting. One more day behind these walls and I will no longer be responsible for my actions. Insanity is very close at hand.”
She continued to list the effects of confinement. Jared smiled at her dramatic declarations. It was not as if she had been completely unoccupied since their arrival. His father had taken on the challenge of teaching his new daughter-in-law how to read and write, a task Bryna had embraced, although she made no secret that she thought stories told by a bard much more entertaining than scratching on a parchment. But he allowed that it could get tedious. Doubting she’d accept an offer to stay with him in bed to pass the time, he said, “Would a trip to the marketplace forestall your madness?”
She looked at him skeptically. “You said it was too dangerous to leave the house, though you have done so nearly every day.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Gaius would not spend four months searching for two runaways. It’s too expensive. The slave catchers’ fee far outweighs our value.”
“I don’t know. . .” she said, chewing on her lower lip.
“It is understandable if you are afraid...” He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as fire lit her eyes.
“I am never afraid, Roman. We will go to the marketplace.”
***
Bryna was both mesmerized and overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of the marketplace known as the
Forum
. She thought Even the bustle of the town of their marriage had not been so filled with color, noise and frenetic activity. It was a welcome respite from the confines of Flavian’s house.
“My goodness, look at the juggler tossing swords! I certainly hope his catch is true, else he might cut off some vital appendage,” whispered Judith, waggling her brows.
Bryna laughed at her observation. Flavian had insisted that they be accompanied by a servant, to ally suspicions by anyone as to their position. She turned at the tug on her hand and found Jared looking at her, his golden eyes softened by curiosity.
“I like it when you laugh,” he said, dodging an overzealous shopkeeper intent on draping a gaudy silver necklace around his neck. “But it grieves me that you would do so as a fool makes a eunuch of himself.”
She cocked her head at him, trying to decide if he was serious. The bland expression on his face prompted her answer. “I can think of nothing more amusing than a Roman skewering himself, whether for business—” She flipped her now waist length braid over her shoulder. “—or pleasure.”
She laughed again at the feigned look of pain on his face and squirmed free from his grasp, racing Judith to the stall of a cloth merchant.
She was engrossed in an array of colorful fabrics when Jared caught up. A dark scowl marked his handsome face, a face that revealed his inner thoughts as thoroughly as any her gift could discern. He was irritated but not angry.
The fat little merchant puffed out his chest with pride as he extolled his goods. “My cloth is the finest in all the city. Feel the quality of the cloth. And the colors,”
“The colors show them to be cheaply made,” interjected Jared.
The merchant sputtered. “Your pardon, good sir, but I spend a precious sum on the importation of such fine material.”
“Then your money is wasted.” He picked up an edge of saffron colored linen. “See here, the weave is loosely done and no mordant was used to set the dye. The colors will fade by the second wearing.”
The man’s face mottled as several other customers leaned in to look closer at the cloth. Bryna quietly took Jared’s hand and led him to the next stall.
“I don’t think your advice was appreciated,” she said warming as he wrapped his arm around her waist.
“People who sell inferior goods give all honest merchants a bad name,” he answered, unashamed.
She slanted a look up at him. “Still, I think it best if you just watch and let Judith and I do the shopping.”
Several hours later the three sat at an outdoor table of a
taverna
, sharing a platter of honeyed figs. Judith examined a length of deep green woolen that she planned to make into a dress designed, she confided, to attract a certain young man who owned a nearby wine shop.
Bryna tried to focus on her new friend’s chatter, but her attention strayed to Jared, who sat close to her on the bench, his thigh rubbing against her own, his scent filled her every breath. She wondered how he would react if she suggested cutting short their excursion and returning to Flavian’s house, to their room—their bed. Her cheeks grew hot. Jared’s eyes darkened as if he too had the gift of sight.
“Refresh my memory, Judith. Aren’t the Janus baths close by?” he asked, weaving his question into a pause in Judith’s chatter.
“Oh yes, very close,” Judith answered happily. “It is not as popular as the Emperor’s but much nicer. If I recall, your father is a member of that very bath.”
Bryna did not like the look of the smile that spread across his face.
“It has been a long, hot day.” Jared stretched his arms, causing Bryna’s breath to hitch as the muscles of his shoulders rippled beneath the white linen of his tunic. “I think Bryna and I will refresh ourselves in the baths before returning home.”
“I do not want...” she began, but was cut off by a sharp look from Jared.
“Of course. That would be very nice, for you,” stammered Judith, her awareness of the tension between the couple obvious by the expression on her face. “I have an aunt who lives nearby. I’m sure she would enjoy a visit.”
“We will meet you outside the bath in two hours, before the sun sets,” replied Jared.
Judith nodded, gathered her purchases and headed out into the crowd.
Bryna fixed her gaze on Jared, who idly dipped his last crust of bread in the herbed olive oil spread on his plate.
“I do not wish to go to this bath,” she said, hoping the simplicity of the statement would dissuade him.
He popped the bread into his mouth. “We are going.”
“I am tired.”
“The baths will refresh you—”
“—I am hot—”
“—and cool your fevered brow—”
“—I will not be ordered!”
“—as well as that bothersome temper of yours,” he finished.
Bryna swore she heard a chuckle beneath his breath as he encircled her shoulders with his arm. She stiffened, determined to show him just how hot her temper could be, when she felt the warmth of his breath teasing the back of her neck. An involuntary shudder went through her as little flames of heat licked at her body reaching far below her belly. It was becoming entirely too familiar an emotion, this sense of longing, of needing, of wanting.
“All right,” she said, arching her neck as he nuzzled her behind the ear.
Jared paid for their meal then led the way out into the busy thoroughfare. They really should be getting back to the safety of the house. But the thought of the baths had popped into his head and the opportunity to get Bryna naked would not wait until they returned to his father’s house. This hunger he had for her was very distracting.
It took only a few minutes to reach the portico of the bath. Jared identified himself to the bath manager as Flavian’s son. The thin faced man bowed in deference to the respected name, but could not conceal his curiosity as he ushered them into the impressive stone building.
The Janus was small in comparison to most of Rome’s baths, but large enough to boast a membership of several hundred and was well appointed. The main hall was lined with ornately carved columns hung with huge baskets of flowering plants. Equally ornate cages dotted the length of the hall, the soft warbling notes of the songbirds they held enhancing the relaxed atmosphere.