For a Roman's Heart

by Denise A. Agnew

  “I did it,” Adrenia said.

  The medicus’s disapproval turned to reluctant admiration. “You used the right amount. As I would have.” He frowned. “It is a fair enough job.”

  Adrenia backed up against a wall, tears shimmering in her eyes. “I’m happy you’re here, medicus. Please save her. That’s all I ask.”

  Adrenia’s distress twisted into a knot inside Terentius. “Adrenia, come into the other room with me and rest. You’re exhausted. Leave Pella to the care of her husband and the medicus. You’ve done all you can.”

  Adrenia’s gaze darted about the room. “But…”

  “Pella would not want you to become ill again,” Pontius said from his wife’s bedside. “Please take some broth and bread…all of you. For your health.”

  Adrenia nodded, and Terentius clasped her arm to lead her into the next room. Another fire burned in the main area. Terentius urged Adrenia into a chair by a square table. He went to the hearth where a pot of soup simmered. Victor hadn’t come in from outside, so Terentius scooped the thick meat soup into a bowl and placed it front of her with a spoon.

  Adrenia’s stomach growled as she glanced up at the big soldier. His gaze upon her was intent, calm, even worried. “Thank you. But what about you?”

  “I won’t take from Pontius’s supply. I have dried meat in my supply pack on my horse. You are cold and tired and recently ill. Eat.”

  He drew a chair from around the table and settled near her. His heat and proximity unsettled her. She liked his strength nearby, his obvious caring. He’d given her so much…had given so much to Pella and Pontius.

  She placed her right hand on his muscled forearm. “You are generous. Thank you for finding the medicus for Pella.” She swallowed hard as grief swelled to almost unbearable proportions. “She means everything to Pontius. He couldn’t bear it if she didn’t survive. I couldn’t bear it.”

  She wouldn’t imagine it, couldn’t stand the thought any longer. Tears she’d tried to ignore since she’d come upon her dear friend lying in the woods broke through her defenses. As they leaked from her eyes, she covered her face.

  “Eh, there. No, no.” Terentius’s voice rumbled softly, filled with genuine concern. “Take ease now. She’s in good hands. You’ve already seen to that.”

  Before she could protest, he reached out, drew her across the small space between them, and snuggled her into his lap. She gasped and looked up at him with wide eyes. His gaze turned from tenderness to a heat she knew must echo in her own eyes. As he stared down at her, his steely right arm bracketed across her back in support. His large left hand clasped her slender left thigh. Hunger vanished in a single searing moment of awareness. His nostrils flared. He shifted, and his erection nestled tight against that left thigh. If she turned away from him, if they’d positioned just right, that hardness would find its way between her legs. Her tears dried immediately.

  His lips parted. “Eat your broth before it gets cold, Adrenia. You’re weak from hunger.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, disconcerted, hungry and indeed tired.

  He kept her on his lap as she ate, aware all the while of his attentiveness, his masculine strength. She wanted to trust him, but caution held her back from total reliance, still cautioned her thoughts and feelings. Before long she’d consumed an entire bowl of stew, the meat, vegetables and bread filling the emptiness. As the fireplace crackled and the orange glow danced over the walls and floor, her eyelids drooped. Exhaustion threatened.

  His hand caressed her hair. “You are too thin.”

  “There is little food every day in our family.”

  “There are only three of you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your mother and father don’t look thin.” His eyebrows knitted together. “They starve you, they deny you reasonable clothing. They butchered your hair. Did your parents treat your siblings the same way?”

  “Until they were married. Now Secunda, Quarta and Quinta do as their husbands say.”

  He grunted, but he didn’t explain where his thought process led.

  “My mother is…she does as she’s told. As any wife does,” she said.

  Terentius sniffed, the sound disdainful. “Is that what you think?”

  She straightened her spine. “It’s what I see every wife doing.”

  A hint of a smile played with his mouth. “Well, I can guarantee you haven’t met every wife.”

  “Perhaps not. But everyone has someone to obey. Slaves obey masters. Children obey their mother and father. Wives obey their husbands. Centurions obey a higher-ranking officer, I imagine?

  “We do.”

  “I’ve made my point.”

  This time his smile lightened his countenance and made him seem less soldierly and more approachable. “You have.”

  “You obeyed your father when you were young?”

  “Yes.” His hand caressed her thigh, and she gasped softly. He ignored or didn’t notice her reaction to his hand tantalizing her flesh. “My family was…”

  His gaze looked tortured as raw hurt flashed over his face. Surprised by the intensity she saw there, she pushed for an answer. “Yes?”

  “My family was very different from yours. We possessed wealth and many comforts.”

  He looked pensive, as if his memories led him down a heart-wrenching path. She didn’t know for certain, but she sensed he didn’t want to explore his heritage as much as she wanted to find out about him.

  “You have a bit of an accent,” she said.

  His eyebrows sprang upwards. “Everyone has a different accent depending on where they are from in Britannia.”

  “This is something more.”

  “My family came from Neapolis in Italia when I was barely sixteen.”

  “Why did you leave Italia?”

  “It’s complicated, but my father was connected to the Emperor. My father felt we weren’t safe in Neapolis because he’d made some powerful enemies who opposed the Emperor Antonius Pius. We took over a villa near Deva that was originally built for another man who died of illness and left no heirs. I decided to join the army when I was sixteen.”

  “You’ve been a soldier a very long time.”

  “Twelve years. I am twenty-eight.”

  His age surprised her. There was something older and wiser about him she didn’t normally encounter with a man of his age.

  “A week after I joined the army, the villa was burned down by barbarians paid by one of my father’s enemies.”

  She placed a hand on his arm, and his fingers tightened on her thigh. “By the goddess,” she gasped the words in shock. “You weren’t there?”

  “I was at the fortress at Deva.”

  She didn’t want to ask, but she did. “Your parents?”

  “They were trapped in the house. They couldn’t escape.”

  “Oh, no. Poor boy. You didn’t have any siblings? No other family?”

  “None.”

  As sorrow filled his eyes, she understood his feelings more than he could imagine. Without thinking, she cradled his face with her right hand. “I’m so sorry, Terentius. You must hate all Britons.”

  Surprise entered his eyes, his eyes glazed with discomfort. As if he wanted to shove back the pain but couldn’t quite do it. “Why would you say that?”

  “Don’t all Romans assume Britons are hateful, unruly sorts? Like the ones who killed your parents for pay?”

  His hand came up and cupped her throat. “At first I hated Britons. Wanted my revenge.”

  “Did you take it?”

  He shook his head. “Something held me back. I recognized that killers for hire are not the everyday Roman citizen or non-citizen as it was in this case. It took many years for me to feel this way, though.”

  She nodded, and as his hand caressed her throat again, she shifted in restless need. A weird sensation that bordered on fear and excitement overpowered her understanding of his grief. When he touched her like this all other emotions struggled to find notice.r />
  “I am sorry for your loss,” she said.

  “You’ve had loss. Much of it, it seems.”

  She nodded but didn’t reply. What could she say when the fates decided to take her siblings from her? Deep in her mind she understood her suspicions couldn’t be voiced about what had happened to her brother and sister. If she spoke out, her own fate would be sealed as well.

  Still, she did not like the thought that Terentius might think her weak. “I have plans. My weaving is profitable, but my parents demand I give them the money. I have pocketed away a part of the profits. Someday I will leave the villa and have my own business. I plan to make clothing for young children. There are many rich ladies in town who would buy clothes ready made if such a service was offered.”

  His eyes brightened, as if her idea excited him. “That is a capital idea. Adrenia, you are clever and beautiful.”

  Though he’d praised her before, she drank in this delicious and heady elixir of compliments.

  Terentius stared down at her, his gaze intense enough to burn. Their mouths were so close. So close…

  Before she could blink, he kissed her. This time his touch devoured, skipping the preliminaries as Terentius twisted his mouth across hers. His hand swept up to cradle her head. His tongue dipped into her mouth, and heat exploded in her loins. Shocked but aroused, she didn’t pull away at this new development. Delicious tingling danced in her belly at this wild intimacy.

  Adrenia broke away from his kiss. She gazed up into his hot expression. “You…the way you’re kissing me…”

  One of his eyebrows winged upward. “Yes?” He kissed her chin, her left cheek, then her right. “What of it?”

  “My sisters say they hate it when their husbands kiss like this…when they use their tongue. When I asked Pella about this strange kissing, she said that Pontius only kisses like this when he wants sex.”

  He glanced sharply at the doorway to the bedroom, then slanted an exasperated look at her. “Did she now?” He smiled gently. “Do you hate it? The way I kissed you?”

  His eyes said he’d know if she lied. “No. I like it.”

  “Like?” He leaned in to whisper in her ear, his breath hot and sending shivers across her skin. “Is that all? You just like it?”

  No, like was too tepid a word. Too tame. “It’s…shocking. It makes me feel strange things I don’t understand.”

  “You’re right, Adrenia. It is shocking. We’re kissing like this with your friend lying injured in bed. With her husband near. Perhaps we’re possessed by Mars and Venus?” His fingers tangled in her hair. “I do want you. You must know and feel it.”

  He gazed at her sincerely, his words rasping hot, husky and filled with the desire that throbbed within her own belly. He leaned in and kissed her again.

  The wild craving it started inside her shocked and delighted Adrenia all the way to her feminine core. As he caressed her tongue with his own, she didn’t quite know what to do. She’d never experienced such wonderful physical sensations as she writhed within his embrace, the desire heightening with each carnal exploration. Terentius’s touch awakened sensations Adrenia had never experienced. As if dormant for a millennium, the turbulence arose. She shook with fine tremors. Delicious, sweet longing piled upon urgent craving.

  He broke away from her, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths. His hands still cupped her head. His eyes blazed down at her. “Kiss me back, Adrenia.”

  His mouth rocked over hers, and as his tongue plunged inside once more, she fell into the energy of their connection. She returned the passion, learned to caress his tongue with hers. She’d never imagined these sensations multiplying, growing hotter and heavier. A whimper escaped her throat. His cock pressed against her hip, hard and long. Curiosity danced in her mind along with feral need. Wherever this desire led, she’d never regret sensations so wonderful and enticing. With hot attention his lips lingered and dined, as if he might never taste anything so delicious again. Warmth swept over her in a furious wave. She clutched at Terentius, searching muscles rock hard and immovable. Such strength aroused, but such power also created undeniable fear.

  The front door opened, and Adrenia sprang off Terentius’s lap. Victor stood at the entry, a wry smile on his lips. “Am I interrupting something again?”

  Terentius stood, and she saw the erection tenting his tunic. He didn’t seem the least embarrassed by the display, but her face flamed in reaction.

  Terentius urged the optio toward the door and said to her, “We’ll be outside.”

  She stood for several moments, her heart still banging against her chest.

  Adrenia groaned as she awakened. Her mind felt foggy, her thoughts scattered. Slowly she registered the hardwood table under her arm, her cheek pressed against her forearm. Unsure what awakened her, she opened her eyes. The hearth crackled nearby, and the scent of the stew teased her nostrils again. She smiled. Terentius had encouraged her, strenuously, to consume yet another bowl of stew. After returning from his short sojourn outside, he’d eaten jerky but not much else. Victor had eaten a bowl of stew that Pontius insisted he eat for riding hard and fast to find the medicus. Victor had left afterward to report back to the fort. Adrenia had put her head down only for a minute while Terentius stepped outside. A minute had turned into who knew how long. Daylight broke on the horizon and heralded a new day. Foggy-headed, she blinked and sat up.

  “Adrenia!” Pontius’s urgent cry brought her straight from her chair.

  Fear punctured her like a blade as she ran into the room where Pontius watched over Pella.

  Pella’s eyes were open.

  Adrenia sagged against the wall in relief. “Thanks be to the gods.”

  Adrenia rushed to her friend’s side. Pontius stared down at his wife, his eyes bright, swimming with tears. His hand clutched Pella’s tightly.

  “Pontius?” Pella’s voice held confusion as she looked first from Pontius to Pella and back. “My head hurts. What happened?”

  “You don’t remember?” Terentius’s voice came from the doorway and made Adrenia jump.

  Adrenia reached for Pella’s other hand. “How are you feeling?”

  Pella winced, but she smiled. “I’m all right except for the headache. But it isn’t severe.”

  “The medicus says you will be fine,” Pontius gathered his wife’s small hand in both of his and rubbed her fingers. “Thank the gods.”

  “Thank Adrenia.” Terentius stepped into the room, his arms crossed.

  “What are you doing here, sir?’ Pella stared at Terentius as if he’d sprung from the earth like a monster.

  “It’s a long story,” Terentius said.

  Pontius beamed at Terentius, then turned back to his wife. “He is too modest. Without his help…well, as he said, it’s a long story.”

  Terentius came to stand near Adrenia. “What happened to you in the woods? We found Crassus dead along a water-filled ditch on the road between here and Durovigutum.”

  Adrenia turned a disapproving look on Terentius. “Perhaps she should rest.”

  He nodded toward Pontius. “As you wish it, sir.”

  Pontius squeezed Pella’s hand. “Darling, can you tell us who did this to you?”

  “We must know who did this,” Terentius said. “I have legal authority to bring them to justice.”

  Pella winced. “I know him.” Her gaze centered on Adrenia. “As do you.”

  Adrenia’s mouth fell open in total surprise. “What?”

  Pella allowed her gaze to sweep everyone in the room, then slid back to Adrenia. “It was the man who bought the slave girl for your father that day. I’d never seen him before that day, but you said your father ran into him in the market some time back and has had dealings with the stranger.”

  Adrenia cupped a hand over her forehead. “No. Not…”

  “Sulla. Your father calls him Sulla,” Pella said.

  “By the gods.” Terentius voice turned harsh. “Publius Sergius Sulla?”

 
; Adrenia flinched at his anger, the wrath on his face stronger and fiercer than anything she’d seen upon him since they’d met. She took two steps back. “Father never called him anything but Sulla. He’s blond. Unusually handsome.”

  “Like the Greek Adonis,” Pella said.

  Terentius stalked the room. “He is a deserter. I was sent from Deva to hunt him down.”

  Adrenia sat on the edge of Pella’s bed, her knees weak. “What did he do?”

  Terentius said, “He has a reputation of brutalizing women. But deserting the army is bad enough. That is punishable by death.”

  Pontius looked doubtful. “Are you certain, Pella, that it was this Sulla you’ve talked about so often?”

  Adrenia peered at her friends. “You’ve talked about him frequently?”

  Pella squeezed her hand. “Of course. I wanted Pontius to know what I felt about the man. He’s…there’s something odd about him I can’t quite explain. Cruelty that goes beyond all reason.”

  Pontius turned his attention once more to his wife. “You’re saying Sulla killed the soldier and took you?”

  “He rode up to us, and I was immediately suspicious. Before the soldier could react, Sulla drew his sword and lunged at the soldier.”

  Terentius paced. “Sulla is very skilled. Then what happened?”

  “I tried to run but Sulla rode alongside me and pulled me onto his horse. He hit me and that’s all I remembered until I awoke in the Haunted Woods. He looked…” She shivered. “He looked murderous. Hateful. I’ve never seen anyone with such cold eyes. He told me it was unfortunate I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I tried to run again and this time…”

  “Yes?” Pontius’s eyes held fear and anger.

  “He caught me.” Pella shivered. “He called me by name. So he recognized me.”

  “What did he do then?” Terentius ejected the question as he prowled the room like a restless animal.

  “He taunted me. Told me I was going to…die.”

  “I’m grieved you had to experience this.” Terentius’s hushed voice was filled with regret. His eyes held fury mixed with compassion, and something within Adrenia melted.