by Glover, Nhys
‘But if you could…’
He swore loudly and shifted onto his side, facing away from her. He wanted to sleep. He didn’t want to be thinking about wives, and what he’d do with a wife on a long, cold night. Not when his little mistress was in his bed, naked.
‘If I was your wife, I’d scratch out your eyes if you tried to take another wife.’
Had he heard her correctly? He felt amusement rising to replace the temper and frustration. How was she able to make him laugh when it was the last thing he felt like doing right now?
‘If you were my wife, I wouldn’t want another. But you can’t be my wife, so go to sleep.’
‘I could be.’
He flung himself over so that he was facing her. The movement tore the sheet from her grip and left them with nothing between their naked bodies but distance.
‘No, you couldn’t!’
‘The man who was to be my husband is probably dead, and I’ll need a husband to keep me from my mother. You’re free and a citizen…’
‘You can’t marry without your father’s approval. Do you think your father would consider me a suitable man for his beloved daughter? The slave who fucked his wife!’
‘Father didn’t know…’
‘Yes he did. He never said as much, but he knew.’
‘He would approve if I…’
‘No, he wouldn’t! And he’d be right to refuse me. I am nothing, I have nothing! What have I got to offer a woman like you? A patrician like you? A woman who could be empress, if she wanted to be. I’m a dog, no more than a dog. I might be loyal, and I might be your protector, but women like you don’t sleep with dogs.’
‘You’re not! Don’t call yourself that.’
‘I’ve mounted your mother like a dog with a bitch in heat. I’ve done things… things I enjoyed… that would make you sick. That make me sick to think of them. I’m no better than a dog that ruts anything presented to it. Male, female, young, old. If it has a hole, I’ll fuck it.’
He hadn’t spoken louder than a whisper, although he felt as if he was yelling the words at her, beating at her with them, so she’d stop torturing him with ideas that weren’t possible.
She had covered her ears and closed her eyes tight, trying not to hear him. He tore her hands away and sprung onto her, pinioning her hands above her head, laying his body over hers, his arousal pressed hard against her soft core.
He had her where he’d wanted to have her since he’d realised she was naked. Her skin was hot and smooth against his. She felt so soft.
But her eyes were squeezed shut. Tears were trickling from their corners, and she was panting with fear.
‘Look at me,’ he demanded harshly. When she didn’t open her eyes he gave her arms a shake, ‘Look at me, damn you!’
Her beautiful doe eyes opened slowly, and she stared up at him in terror. This was what he needed her to feel. It was the only way he could drive out her crazy, childish dreams. She had to see him for what he was, so that she wouldn’t want him anymore.
‘What you’re looking at, what you’re feeling,’ he thrust his hips so that his hard length ground against her virgin core, ‘isn’t a man. It’s a dog, a cur. I might not have been raised a cur, but your people made me into one. And I can’t me unmade. This is all I am, all I’ll ever be. Do you understand me?!’
What she did next shocked them both. She opened her legs and wrapped them around his hips so that her core was so close he could feel its slick heat. He released her arms and reached down to try to untangle her legs. He was the terrified one now.
Her released arms came down to wind around his neck and she tried to pull him down, so she could bury her face in his shoulder. But he wouldn’t budge, and so she had to lift herself up to reach him. And she clung to him with all her strength.
For a split second, he thought to tear her away. His strength was so much more than hers. It would be easy. But it would hurt her. And he was already hurting her too much. He dropped down onto the bed, allowing her to take all his weight. She moaned softly and clung harder.
Vali felt the tears stinging his eyes. What was she trying to do, force him into taking her, force him to prove he was nothing but a dog? But it wasn’t any kind of lust he felt coming off her. It was desperation, and deep heart-wrenching sorrow. And she was feeling it for him. Her kind, gentle heart was breaking for him, and clinging to him so that he couldn’t drive her away.
Suddenly all the fight in him was gone. He let go of everything but the feeling of her wrapped around him like a living glove. And he kissed her hair, and brushed it back from her hot, damp face.
‘It’s all right now, sweetling, I give in. I know you won’t be driven away. Let me go now, everything is …’His gentle words were delivered as he kissed her temple and her forehead, then her cheeks. When he placed a kiss on each of her closed eyelids her arms and legs finally relaxed, and she released him.
He kissed her mouth softly, and he was stunned when she kissed him back. So very tender, so very sweet. He’d never known a kiss like it. With a shudder, he realised what was so different about this kiss. It came from love, innocent, selfless love. No matter what he told her about himself, no matter what he did to try to prove what he was to her, she ignored it all. And loved him.
Though his body urged him to take the offering, his heart refused it. Not because he felt nothing for her, but because he felt too much. She didn’t know how much she’d be giving up if she did this one, selfless thing. And he wouldn’t let her.
He shifted over until he was flat on his back and she was resting in the crook of his arm. ‘Sleep now, sweetling. It’s been a long, hard day and we’re both exhausted. Tomorrow we’ll talk… tomorrow we’ll make this right.’
Wordlessly, she relaxed. And within moments was asleep. It took him a lot longer.
Chapter Twelve
27 August 79 CE, Paestum LUCANIA
Lara woke to sunshine and heat. She opened her eyes a crack to try to get an impression of where she was. Every morning was different. Every morning she was confronted with something new and frightening. Gone were the days of waking always to the same place and same situation. The certainty of the known. Her life, she was coming to realise, would never be the same.
She felt a warm body pressed close to her front, and her head rested on a familiar muscular shoulder. This was known. This was her one certainty in a crazy world. Vali.
Then she registered the sensation of vulnerable flesh exposed, of skin on skin. With a dawning sense of mortification she started to remember what had happened the night before that had brought her to being naked with Vali. Her face began to burn as the images played over in her mind: Lying naked in this bed, helpless to do anything else. All options had been closed to her. Lara had one set of clothes, and they were filthy and bug infested. She couldn’t wear them in this pristine bed. Better to be naked.
She’d been naked when Vali came back from the bathhouse and slid in beside her. He’d been naked too. She’d felt like a temptress, like a slut. Her thoughts turned to her mother. Vali and her mother in such a bed together. And the thought had made her sick, still made her sick.
He’d told her that he’d done things that made him sick, but that he’d enjoyed it. He told her he was a dog. And she’d refused to believe it. Refused to accept his opinion of himself. But when he’d pinned her body to the bed, thrusting his hard length against her exposed flesh, she had started to understand. Not completely. But a little. And the devastation was so complete that her body had reacted without her control.
She’d wrapped her legs around his thighs and pressed closer, exposing the hidden place between her legs to him. Felt his hard flesh press against that place. He’d fought to get her off him. As if she was an octopus that had wrapped its tentacles around him. And her body had taken advantage of that impulse, using her free arms to further entangle him.
And for a moment she thought his terror of her was so great he would fling her away. But then he’d given
in. All the anger and self-loathing had dissipated, and he’d laid his heavy weight on her, and given up the burden of it all.
Lara didn’t know what to make of what had happened. It was beyond understanding. All she could accept was that she had somehow made another inroad into his damaged soul. He’d tried to drive her away, using her innocence against her, and she had instead used it to cleanse the darkness from his heart. Not all of it. Not nearly all of it. But enough to begin their bridge again.
His body stiffened the moment he came awake. Their peaceful interlude was over, and she didn’t know what to expect. Would he push her away? Would he attack her again? Would he be the gentle Vali who’d held her close and rubbed his cheek against her hair?
‘It’s late,’ was all he said.
‘Yes. I imagine our hostess felt we might enjoy a sleep in.’ Where had all those ordinary words come from?
‘How do you feel?’
She couldn’t see his face, pressed as she was against his shoulder. But she could hear the uncertainty in his voice.
‘Tired, achy. But better than I’ve been for a few days.’
‘You’re naked, and so am I.’
‘I know. Does it offend you?’
His ready laugh was back and she clung on while he gave in to it. ‘Offend me? To have a beautiful young woman’s body wrapped around me? No. Offended isn’t the first word that springs to mind.’
‘Should I move?’
‘Do you want to move?’
She thought about that for a moment before answering. ‘No. I like being close to you this way. It seems like the only time you let me get close to you. Does that make me like… like my mother?’
He stiffened beneath her. ‘No, it doesn’t. You are nothing like your mother. If … if you feel comfortable being naked with me, then that’s good. It’s natural.’
When she nodded her head, it must have rubbed her hair against his skin, because she heard him stifle a groan. She could see the hard length of him, which was already lifting the sheet, twitch. The impulse to touch it became almost more than she could control, so she turned her eyes elsewhere; to his long golden arm, with its scattering of glistening white hairs. His hand lay on his thigh above the white sheet and it was beautifully formed, with long fingers and short, well-tended nails. And yet, if he turned that hand over she’d see callouses and nicks, from fighting with a sword. The two sides of this man, were as simply revealed as a twist of a hand.
She moved her hand across the sheet and used it to turn the palm upwards. Then she began to run the tip of her index finger across the rough, hard skin. His fingers closed over her hand.
‘Don’t.’
She let him hold her hand still, warm and safe within its calloused confines.
‘Is it terrible to be glad Severus is dead?’ she asked, listening to his steady heartbeat.
‘Not terrible. But odd. I thought you liked him.’
‘I did, when I met him that time in Rome. But he wasn’t the same shy, awkward youth I met then. He was a different man in his own home.’
‘We all appear different in different circumstances. Like you, little mistress. When I came for you in Pompeii… I expected a terrified mouse. But you were less afraid than anyone else. Even me. And you used your considerable intellect to work out a way to protect us from the worst of the barrage of stones. Who would have thought?’
‘It was nothing. I was just so glad you came back for me. And so desperate to be away from there. My nightmare was pressing in on me until there was only one imperative. Escape.’
‘Do you often have dreams of portent?’
‘Portent? You mean do my dreams often foretell the future? No. Just sometimes, when something bad is going to happen. I dreamed you were going to be dragged away in chains, and you reached out to me. I couldn’t get to you because mother stepped in my way.’
‘When was that?’
‘Just before she sold you. That was why I was trying to get father to send you to Britannia. To get you away from her.’
‘Did you dream of what Publius did to Ninia?’
‘Not before it happened, but many, many nights after. Sometimes it was me being raped. Sometimes I wish it had been. It was my fault. If Ninia and I hadn’t been such good friends he would never have chosen that means to hurt me.’
‘It’s your brother’s fault only. Were you supposed to live a loveless life in case he chose to use that love against you? You had so very few people who cared about you. You deserved more.’
‘So did you.’
His hand released hers, and he began to shift her away from him so he could rise. Sighing heavily, she let him. She watched him put on his loin cloth and filthy tunic. The idea that she would have to do the same turned her stomach. There had been tiny black bugs crawling all over it when she took it off at the bathhouse.
‘I’ll make a quick trip to the marketplace and get you a fresh tunic and undergarments. Then we can set about finding some breakfast.’
Lara lay back on the pillow with a deep sigh of contentment. Not because she could stay where she was a little longer, or that she didn’t have to put that awful tunic on. But because Vali had thought to do something so she didn’t have to.
‘I might sleep a little longer then.’
‘Good. You need it.’
When he returned, he not only had fresh clothes, but a loaf of fresh bread, fruit and cheese. He also presented her with a chilled bottle of wine.
With the sheet wrapped around her, they had their impromptu picnic on the bed. And Lara couldn’t remember feeling as happy as she did right then.
For the rest of the day they wandered the forum, buying additional clothes and essentials they had left behind in their escape. Luckily, her carry-all had remained with Vali when he left her at Severus’ villa, because his gold was in it. Had she really forgotten her most precious things were inside it too? Or had she half hoped that he would be forced to come back to return them to her? To be honest, she didn’t really know. That whole time was becoming a blur.
Much later in the afternoon, after they had slept the hottest hours away in their little room, they wandered along the white, sandy beach, looking up at the imposing temple above them. They’d been told that the Greeks had built it many hundreds of years ago, and its state of disrepair seemed to vouch for that. But it was still majestic and beautiful, set against the bright blue sky above it.
While their hostess made their evening meal, Lara sang songs with young Appius. The boy was nine and already trying to be a man for his widowed mother. But there was still enough of the child in him to enjoy singing complicated and funny rounds with his houseguest.
Vali sat on the window ledge that looked out on the tiny enclosed garden. It was here that the night blooming jasmine was grown, as well as Daria’s herb and vegetable patch. The moon had already risen, and seeing its bright light behind Vali reminded her of the night he had rescued her from Rome. He had seemed such a frightening giant that night, and she’d been beside herself with confused terror. So much had happened since then, and yet it was only a week ago. The moon had been waxing then, and now it was almost full.
After the meal, she helped Daria wash the dishes. Their hostess had tried to insist it was not necessary, that they were paying guests, but Lara had insisted. It felt good to be just one of the people in this humble home, rather than the noble patrician, isolated from the heartbeat of the household.
She excused herself shortly after, leaving Vali playing a board game with Appius. He was letting the boy win, she noticed, but not overtly. It was just like him to consider the child’s confidence rather than any drive he might have to compete.
For a long time, she stood at the window of their room, watching the huge moon dipping low over the shining sea. It was a perfect, peaceful moment, and yet she was suffering such internal distress she thought she might be sick. Even though she now had clean clothes, she didn’t want to sleep in them. For all the drama of the night before, she h
ad enjoyed the feel of naked skin on clean sheets, naked skin against naked skin. But if she slept that way again, with no good excuse this time for her behaviour, would Vali’s opinion of her deteriorate?
As time passed and her indecision raged, she finally took the initiative. If Vali thought less of her because of her ‘natural’ urge to sleep naked on a hot night, then that was the way it would be. She couldn’t spend her life trying to please him. It didn’t work anyway. Half the time the things she did that she thought he would like turned out to be wrong and only angered him. If they were to stay together, for however much longer, she needed to do what felt right for her, and let Vali deal with it as he chose. After all, he wasn’t her husband, even if they were play acting those roles. And if she believed him, then he never would be.
The thought of that hurt her more than she wanted to admit. Even though she knew he was right, knew he was not a suitable husband for Annia Minor Bibuli, he felt right for Clodia Lara, the liberti she was starting to feel was a more comfortable fit than her patrician birth ever had been. But convincing Vali was another matter.
With a deep sigh at the complications in her life, she began to strip off her garments. After folding them neatly in the corner, she slipped beneath the cool sheets. The night was hot and humid, and she could smell the night blooming jasmine so powerfully in the heavy air. When Vali came in quietly, she tensed. What would he think of her?
He didn’t look in her direction, simply stripped down to his loin cloth and slid into the bed. His arm grazed her hip by accident and she felt his sudden stillness. The back of his hand returned, as if to confirm his discovery. Holding her breath, she waited to see what he would do. Drag her out of the bed and forcefully reclothe her?
‘Little mistress?’ His voice was soft, as if he didn’t want to awaken her if she slept.
‘Call me Lara.’
‘Lara, what are you doing?’
‘Sleeping.’
‘Naked?’
‘Yes. Is that all right?’ Why did she feel it necessary to ask permission? That went against her determination to do as she wanted.