‘Is there somewhere dry we can speak of this?’ Tullio sneezed and then gave a rueful smile. ‘We should take cover.’
‘There is a dry cave a little way from here. I was waiting there when I heard you call. The river is too high to cross. It should have subsided in the morning.’
They walked along in silence for a while. Every now and then Helena risked a glance at Tullio, but his face gave no clue. She wondered if he’d draw away. Those who heard her mother’s story always did. She could clearly remember the taunts of Zenobia’s daughters until Aunt Flavia silenced them. When she stumbled, his fingers, warm and firm despite the rain, caught her elbow and held her upright.
‘Did you ever see your father?’ Tullio asked as they ducked inside the cave.
‘When he found out my mother was pregnant, he left.’ Helena flinched as she remembered the day Zenobia told her the story, her eighth birthday, the gleam of triumph in the older woman’s eyes and the giggles from her cousins. ‘My birth caused disaster for the island.’
‘But your aunt, the sibyl, took you in. If she had felt that way, she would never have had you for her assistant.’
‘Aunt Flavia made a promise to my mother.’ Helena ignored the sudden lump in her throat. It was hard to speak of such things, but she felt Tullio needed to understand. ‘Aunt Flavia always keeps her word. She has endured many things for that pledge.’
‘Whatever the sibyl has done, you have given back a thousandfold. My men and I will long remember your kindness and your courage.’
Helena grasped her Kybele amulet. She should make a joking remark, something light, but the words died on her lips as she saw his intent face.
She heard her breath go in and out several times as she stared at him.
Tullio moved towards her. His hand traced the line of her jaw, sending tingles along it. Helena shivered, but not from the cold. His hand captured hers and brought it to his lips. The coldness of the rainwater contrasted with their warmth.
Out here she had felt so alone, but now she knew, within his arms, there would be a measure of peace. It did not matter that this man was supposed to be her enemy. It only mattered that he was here, with her, now.
He made no move to touch her further, but stood still and upright. A muscle jumped in his cheek as her hand stroked it. She gave into temptation and laid her head against his chest. Immediately his arms came around her and held her tight.
‘Thank you for coming to rescue me, even if I didn’t know I needed rescuing.’
‘And thank you for rescuing me. I didn’t fancy spending a night clinging to a branch.’ His fingers lifted her chin so that she stared into his deep brown eyes. ‘I wanted to make sure you were safe. I needed to know you were safe. Do you understand that?’
‘Yes.’
He crushed her to him as if he were afraid that she would somehow vanish in the rain, or disappear with the next clap of thunder. The strength in his arms caused her heart to soar. He had come searching for her. He knew the risk and he had still come. Maybe he did care about her. More likely he was worried without her, the seafarers would control the temple.
Helena broke away from his grasp. ‘You’re wet. I should start a fire.’
‘That is one possibility.’
‘It is you who will take harm from the cold. You could have drowned in that flood.’
‘But I didn’t. Someone has to look out for you, Helena.’
She busied her hands with the twigs and bits of branches she had collected for a fire. Then she struck one of her fire stones, created a spark and the old wood burst into flame. She sat back on her heels. She didn’t always look after other people. He made it sound as if there was something wrong with that.
‘There was no need,’ she said around the lump in her throat. ‘As you can see, I am perfectly capable of looking after myself. I’ve done so for years.’
‘There was every need, Helena.’ His hand reached out and touched her shoulder. Brief, gentle, but filling her with warmth. ‘You spend so much time sorting out other people’s problems that I wonder if you ever see the danger you are in.’
‘I’m not in any danger.’ Helena pushed away the thoughts of Androceles and his designs on the temple. These were problems she’d think about tomorrow, concerns she refused to share with Tullio. ‘Not any physical danger.’
‘I had to be sure.’
He put both his hands on either side of her face, not with any force, but a gentle caress. A caress that sent a deepening warmth throughout her body.
All she could do was nod and hope he understood.
He lowered his face to hers and their lips touched. He kissed her forehead, her eyes, back to her mouth. Helena forgot everything—all her thoughts about the temple, the problems with the pirates, the storm—everything but the sensation of his lips.
She shivered. He pulled back. His eyebrows drew together in frown and he eased the shawl from her shoulders.
‘You will catch a cold.’
‘It doesn’t matter, the damp makes no difference,’ she said with a smile and pressed closer. She ran her hands down the length of his arm, feeling his strength under the pads of her fingers.
‘Let me take off my cloak and yours.’
With one movement, the heavy woollen cloaks dropped to the ground. He stood in front of her, dressed in his damp tunic that hugged his skin. He reached down and undid his sandals, revealing the full length of his muscular leg. Helena feasted her eyes.
It seemed as if he were holding himself in check.
‘Do you understand what you are saying, Helena? If we continue, I might not be able to stop.’
Stop? She had no desire for him to stop. She wanted to feel the sensations that had coursed through her after he rescued her from the black mist. To make sure he was real and here with her. She knew she had lied to herself that those things were unimportant.
‘I do.’ Her hand curled around his neck and brought his face level to hers. ‘Indeed I do.’
Their lips met, clung. She brought her hands around his body. Her breasts pressed against the wall of his chest. She could feel the hard length of him against her.
When she moved slightly, it grew harder. His hands cupped around her buttocks, travelled up to her waist and pulled her more firmly against him. Sensations of warmth radiated out from her centre, hotter than the fire that crackled behind them.
A hunger within her grew, fuelled by the sensations racking her body. She heard him groan in the back of his throat. His lips travelled down her neck, making lines of fire to the hollow of her throat. His hand went to her shoulder and moved her gown, one finger running along the length of her collarbone. He caught a drop of water from the hollow of her throat and brought it to his lips.
‘My dreams have been full of you,’ he rasped.
Then his hands ran lightly over her gown, shaping her curves, pausing to encircle and tease her breasts, and all the while, the hardness of him pressed against the apex of her legs.
How long they stood, his hand drawing circles on her back, she didn’t know. All she knew was the wonderful sense of warmth radiating out all over her.
Her gown felt heavy, the rain running off it to make puddles at her feet. Her hand plucked at the brooches that held her gown, undid them and she allowed the gown to drop to the floor of the cave to join the cloaks with a soft whoosh. He eased the under-tunic off her shoulders and that fell to the ground as well.
Now she was only clothed in her breast band.
She paused, uncertain of his reaction, but his eyes lit a renewed fire.
His hands ran down her body, caressing her skin as if she was made of the most precious glass, drawing circles of fire on it. Where his fingers went, his lips and tongue followed.
No one had said that the touch of a man would do this to her insides. Helena remembered the gossip of the village girls and her cousins—how they said that this was something to be feared. She felt no fear.
The lashing of the rain and the int
ermittent rumble of thunder no longer scared her. It seemed to urge her onwards, towards this man and her destiny. This was what she was born for—to feel his touch, breath his scent and taste his mouth.
Her hand touched his belt, hesitated.
Would he think her too bold?
Would he withdraw as he had done after the cave? She couldn’t bear rejection a second time.
He pulled away and looked at her with gleaming passion-filled eyes. Helena knew she should blush, lower her head, but she found she didn’t want to. She wanted to look on him as he looked on her. She wanted to see the ripples of muscles and the faint dusting of hair on his chest that went to a single line, pointing ever downwards towards the essence of him.
‘Do you understand what you are doing to me?’
‘Please, Tullio.’
She felt her knees tremble and knew she could no longer stand. To steady herself, her hands reached out and grasped his tunic. She had no wish to be a clinging vine to his oak, but she had no choice. Her legs threatened to give way.
He eased her back down on to the discarded clothes.
She watched him loom over her. Large, masculine, but moving with an easy, almost lazy grace. He discarded his tunic, allowed it to fall to the ground, then his loincloth. His naked body was fully revealed for her. The light from the embers cast shadows on the golden skin. It was how she remembered him. Sculpted like marble, yet wonderfully alive and warm. She glanced down and saw him, proud and hard. Beautiful.
Her tongue moistened her lips.
He was looking at her with a question in his eyes. She nodded, reached up towards him and it seemed to satisfy him.
His hands went to her breast band and pushed down, unravelling it until the tight rose-tipped buds of her nipples were revealed. He bent his head and lapped at each one. Fresh sensations washed through her. She was new made for him. Her body arched and cried out for his tongue. She wanted to feel his skin against hers.
His knee parted her legs and her body bucked against the firm muscle. She wanted to feel all of him, needed to feel him. She moaned in the back of her throat and her head thrashed from side to side.
Overhead, a huge crash of thunder.
She cried out, and felt his finger slip inside her, giving her some relief. In and out. Not enough. The fire within her grew wilder with each touch, consuming her being.
More. Her hands pulled him upwards, and she felt his full body against hers. Her hips lifted as the tip of him nudged the summit of her thighs, hot and hard, pushing them apart.
She stiffened, drew back. How could she tell him of her sudden fear?
Without saying anything, he seemed to understand. He stroked her hair, smoothing it back from her forehead. His lips brushed her skin. A light feathery touch, but enough to make her hips drive upwards, longing for him to make her feel as if she were a part of something.
‘It will hurt for but an instant, then there will be pleasure. You will see. I will go as gently as I can.’
She nodded, not really understanding. Her body demanded more. She wanted to be one with him.
She gasped as he entered her. Pain coursed through her, sudden and unexpected in its sharpness. She stiffened, but her insides stretched, grew to accommodate the length of him. He lay still, embedded in her, a very masculine smile on his face. His hand smoothed the hair off her forehead.
‘No more pain now.’
She hesitated, uncertain if she should believe him. He was inside her. She wanted more. Her body was driving her onwards.
He began to move gently at first. She opened her legs, longing to feel him deeper and then her hips began to move with an age-old instinct.
Slowly, then faster, until the world around her exploded in a rain of stars.
A shaft of sunlight pierced Helena’s eyes. She wrinkled her nose and tried to move away from the bright light. Only then did she realise that she was not lying in her comfortable bed, but that her ear was pressed against Tullio’s massive chest, the steady drum of his heart filled her hearing and her legs were entwined with his.
Cautiously, she opened her eyes and lifted her head. The cool morning air fanned her face.
‘Good morning.’ His voice rumbled in her ear. His hand ran down her back, sending pleasant tingles throughout her body. ‘Surely you don’t have to get up yet. You can rest a while longer.’
‘The temple will be waking. They will be wondering where I am.’
‘There is that.’ He laced his hands through her hair, drawing it down, making a curtain between them.
Helena raised herself up and instantly his arms released her. She shivered and reached for her discarded clothes.
‘I think it best if I get back. There will be storm damage. Someone will need to be responsible.’
‘As my lady wishes.’ He made no move from the makeshift pallet. She wished he’d say something more, but he merely looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
A faint ache was between her thighs when she moved. She swallowed hard, remembering his words of last night.
No more pain. How wrong he was. How typically Roman.
Roman—the word resounded in her mind, reminding her that he would not stay for ever, and that Roman promises had never done any of her people any good.
How could she have forgotten?
If the seafarers knew, they would see her liaison with Tullio as a betrayal. She would be branded a traitor. But she had betrayed nothing, except her heart.
Thoughts buzzed through her brain as a swarm of bees might circle the garden on a hot June day, filling the air with their wing beats.
How long had he been awake? How long had he been watching her? Had he liked what he had seen? Had he enjoyed their time together? He had said that he was divorced, unattached. However, nothing approaching love had been spoken between them. They had never discussed the future. What did he think of her?
Her hands stilled on her breast band. It bothered her that she needed his approval. It made her feel vulnerable, exposed.
She finished dressing quickly, hardly daring to look at his glorious body. If she took one peep, she’d be back in his arms, begging for his kiss.
Had she spent the night in his arms? Their passion seemed to be something out of time. Her mouth tasted bitter. There could be no hope for them. How could there be? Aunt Flavia might excuse one night of passion, but any more and she’d have to leave the temple. She’d be an outcast among her people.
If a child should result from last night? Helena swallowed hard. There were ways of preventing a womb from quickening. She had never thought of using them. She’d have to drink raspberry leaf tea from now until her next menses and hope.
Aunt Flavia had a raspberry bush brought from Greece for such a purpose ten years ago. Helena could still remember Zenobia’s scandalised intake of breath, but even she had to admit the berries were sweet.
Helena rubbed the back of her neck. She had deluded herself before about Tullio. Too many obstacles lay between them.
‘So that is it. You are leaving without kissing me good morning.’
Helena forced her fingers to finish fastening her brooch before she turned back.
Tullio was half-raised on an elbow. His magnificent chest where she had rested her head was uncovered. The only concession to modesty was his loin cloth draped over his lower half. Helena’s knees weakened and she longed to sink back down, to taste his rain-soaked skin again. She drew on all her training to resist.
‘I have duties to attend to. Morning is the temple’s busiest time.’
With one fluid movement, he stood up, filling the cave. His fingers caught her arm, turned her towards him and his eyes searched her face. Helena forced her features to remain impassive.
‘Is that all—you have duties to attend to?’
‘What do you want me to say? What passed between us was very instructive.’
‘Instructive?’ He gave a short laugh. ‘I have heard it called many things in my life, but instructive is new.’
/>
‘What would you call it?’
His fingers traced the line of her jaw, sending sharp tingles radiating outwards, making her want to turn her face towards him and to experience that intense moment of pleasure again.
The harsh outline of his mouth softened. Helena swayed towards him. Her lips felt full, her eyelids heavy. A half-smile appeared on his face, his eyes assessing as if he knew her words were but a defence.
‘I expect you are correct. Instructive is as good a word as any.’
Helena stared out at the azure blue sky, a sky so bright, it hurt her eyes. ‘It appears there is sunlight after the storm.’
‘If you wait, I will come with you.’
‘You don’t need to do that. I am perfectly capable of finding my own way back to the temple.’
She wanted to go back to that time not so very long ago when she had listened to the thudding of his heart and felt safe. It all seemed wrong now. Unsettled.
‘I know you can find your way back there. I simply wanted to go with you.’
‘Why?’
‘To make sure you didn’t stumble.’ His tone was light and his eyes twinkled as if they were sharing some intimate joke.
‘Or to make sure somehow you bound me to Rome?’ The words slipped out of her lips and hung between them.
His face became hard. Gone was the lover and in his place was the Roman tribune, a man used to command. ‘What passed between us last night passed between two people, Helena, not two countries. There was no one there but you and I. Maybe some day you will learn the difference.’
Helena clamped her mouth shut. She started off down the mountainside, with short sharp strides, not caring if the thorn bushes bit into her ankles or not.
Tullio let Helena go, despite the temptation to hold her back. He watched her dark hair stream down her back as she picked her way among the rocks and bracken. The storm of yesterday had cleared the air and, despite the hour, he could already feel the heat beginning to hang heavy, drying the puddles of water. She missed her footing on a rock and he was by her side before she could fully right herself. His fingers touched her elbow, steadying her. If she’d have pulled away again, he’d have let her go, but she didn’t move. She stared at his fingers.
A Noble Captive Page 17