by London Casey
Kane did get better, though not as fast as Elizabeth knew he wanted. But every day he could do more, even if it was just getting from one end of the bedroom to the other without assistance, and without losing his breath.
She considered it a victory—when she saw Marius and Quintus carry him in after he was flogged, she was terrified he wouldn’t make it through the night.
Kane got stronger—and he also got frustrated, and sarcastic, and angry.
She stayed with him until he hit the growling stage, then she escaped for an hour or two, drawing more of the life around the fort.
Three weeks into his recovery, she asked him to join her.
“Good morning.” She leaned against the door jamb, and smiled at his surly look. “Up for a walk?”
“I’m allowed to leave my room?”
“For a short walk.” She didn’t tell him it would just be around the praetorium. He looked less unhappy already. “And you will have to use support.”
She pointed to the cane resting against the wall next to him. The cane he’d ignored since Appia gave it to him. Complications slowed his healing, and his right side, already weak, needed some outside assistance. He resented the hell out of it.
His frown told her he still did. “I can walk on my own.”
“It’s only been three weeks, and I don’t want you to backslide because you’re too proud to walk around the praetorium with a cane.”
“I am not—” He cut himself off, and she understood why a second later, when Servius cleared his throat.
“My master wishes to see both of you.”
“Thank you.” She smiled at him, and a flush stained his cheeks. “Tell him we’re on our way.”
“It will be my pleasure.”
She watched him run down the hall, awkward and sweet.
“He has a crush.”
“An innocent crush.” She turned back to Kane, and smiled at his scowl. “Ready?”
“We are being summoned.”
“Yes, we are.”
“You’re humoring me.”
Her smile widened. “Yes, I am.” She pushed off the door jamb, held out her hand. “Walk with me, Jackson Kane. Let’s go see what our host wants.”
Marius waited for them in the courtyard, and he didn’t have good news.
“Villius has escaped.”
“What?” Kane’s fingers tightened on the cane, so hard his knuckles whitened. Elizabeth closed her hand over his. He forced himself to relax. “How?”
“One of the men in his cohort. I doubt he has gotten farther than the vicus, but he will be tough to flush out.”
Elizabeth studied him for a moment. “You think Villius is the killer.”
Marius let out a sigh, rubbed the bridge of his nose. “He is the most likely suspect. Framing you, Kane, would certainly throw me off his scent. Let’s take this in my office. I have an idea I want to discuss.”
Kane wasn’t certain he liked the sound of that.
Elizabeth hovered all the way to the office, helped him settle in a chair in front of Marius’ desk. She perched on the edge of the chair next to him, as if she were waiting for him to topple over—
Stop. She is concerned for you, and with good reason. His back twitched in agreement, and he fought to keep the echo of the pain off his face.
Marius didn’t waste any time. “Kane and I started this conversation, but never had the opportunity to finish it.” Kane just managed to keep himself from flinching. It was right before Villius took him. “Servius—ah, you’re still here. I would like you to take notes for us.”
“Yes, master.”
Marius flinched. “Commander will do, or my name. You are not a slave.”
A flush stained the boy’s cheeks. An angry flush, from what Kane could tell. His hand shook as he opened a small rectangular box. “When you are ready. Commander.”
Marius may not have noticed the sting in the boy’s voice, but Elizabeth did. She reached over and touched his wrist, giving him that gentle smile that had Kane wanting to drag her to the nearest bed.
“Thank you, Servius. Notes will help us narrow down motive. Can we start with the names of the victims? Then if they are connected—either to each other or one person in particular.”
“Like Villius.” Marius nodded. “We are up to five now, with the latest. Four of my soldiers: Basilius, Antonius, Gaius, and Cassius. Now a woman from the vicus, a Saxon called Boudica.”
“Mast—commander.” Servius raised his hand. “Villius was, um, seeing the Saxon woman. I noticed them together several times over the last month, when I was sent down to the vicus for supplies.”
“Good—write that down, mark it. The second and third were in Villius’ cohort, both of them receiving credit for captures he thought he deserved. The first was an open rival. Gods protect us.” Marius sat back in his chair. “Villius is connected to all of them.”
Servius scribbled furiously. “He also framed Kane for murder, and tried to kill him before he could prove otherwise.”
“Add it next to his name.” Marius reached for his wine cup, and knocked it into the cup next to his.
Kane and Elizabeth both grabbed for the tilting cup. Servius beat them, snatching the cup just before it toppled.
He settled it back to the tray, and sat, like what he just did was another task.
Marius studied him, the jade green eyes narrowed. “If I had known you possessed such lightning reflexes, I might have placed you in a different position, rather than as my clerk.”
“It is what I wanted, master. Commander,” he corrected, staring at his hand. “I trained with my father’s men at home, but it was never a skill I favored. But if your life was threatened,” he looked directly at Marius, his eyes so intense even Marius cringed. “I would stand in front of you, sword in hand, and give my life.”
“Let’s hope that doesn’t become necessary.”
Servius blinked, as if he realized he had just revealed a secret, and lowered his head. “Of course, commander.”
Kane cleared his throat. “You need to add Titus to that list.”
Servius stared at him, a flush staining his face. “The commander? I thought—did he not go back to Rome?”
With a sigh, Marius shook his head. “No. He disappeared just before you arrived. And this takes us back around to my idea, Kane. I was going to announce your release today, but I want to put it off.”
Kane understood immediately. “To set a trap.”
“Glad to see you are in line with my thinking—”
“No.” Elizabeth stood, hands on her hips, all that blonde hair falling around her, and anger snapping in her dark blue eyes. God help him, she looked magnificent. “I won’t let you put him in danger. Not again.”
“He is our best chance to lure out—”
“Hasn’t he already given enough?” Tears edged the anger. “I came close to losing him once. I won’t stand by while you offer him up to a killer. Not again.”
“Beth—”
She turned on him. “Not again. I can’t go through that again.”
He took her hand and pulled her forward. “We will be ready this time, love. He tried to frame me, twice now, and he killed a woman. He needs to be stopped.”
“God,” she whispered. “Why do you have to be right about this?”
“I wish I was not, but it is the best way to set a trap. The killer already has a target on me. We can use that to our advantage this time.”
She stared at their joined hands, and he waited for the panic. Instead, she took a deep breath and met his eyes. “Okay. But we are going to talk long and hard about precautions, and keeping you safe while you play bait.”
“Agreed.”
Marius cleared his throat, and Elizabeth flashed him a smile before she sat again. “Now that you have it sorted, I want to examine what was found on each body again.”
Elizabeth raised her hand. “We need to check the wounds, see if they are similar…” Her voice faded as Marius shoo
k his head. “You don’t have them anymore.”
“They were given the respect due them, just after their death. With the exception of the Saxon woman, who is being readied for transport back to her family.” He pushed himself to his feet. “But we can look at her, compare the wounds to what I saw on Cassius, and pay respects at the same time. I am going to bring Appia. It would be easier to gain access with her asking to see the woman.”
Elizabeth stood. “I would like to—”
“Absolutely not.” Kane spoke over her. She gave him a glare that should have wounded him.
Marius rubbed his mouth, and Kane had a sneaking suspicion he did it to hide a smile. “Appia may want her along, if she can handle working with the dead.”
Elizabeth swallowed, but the determination he so admired lit her eyes. “I can.”
He tried one last time to keep her out. “I do not want her anywhere near this.”
“Too late.” She moved to him, and surprised him by cradling his cheek and kissing him in front of the others. “The second you were accused, I became involved. You are stepping in deeper, and I won’t stand by and just watch. We need to help stop this, Kane.” She leaned in to whisper. “I think we’re here because of this, to save a victim who shouldn’t be a victim.”
So, she was on to that again. They would talk about it later, when he had the privacy to say exactly what he needed to prove to her that their destination was random, a glitch in the transport.
He met her eyes, and smiled. “You go, I go.”
“If you think you’re up for it.” The challenge in her dark blue eyes accelerated his pulse.
“I will have to be, love, since you are not going without me.”
For the first time in a while, she blushed. Kane realized their banter had become the intimate back and forth they usually shared in bed. He missed it, missed her beside him, with an ache almost worse than the one greeting him each morning when his healing back woke him.
Perhaps tonight he could persuade her to rest with him, for an hour, just to feel her warmth again, touch her again—
He wanted to groan at the images that pushed into his sleep deprived mind. He pushed them out immediately, before he embarrassed himself.
“Kane?”
He blinked, and met her eyes. His mind had been wandering again—a sign of his fatigue he couldn’t hide.
“Here. When do we leave?”
Her smile had those thoughts working their way in again. “As soon as you stop daydreaming.”
They didn’t even reach the main gate before Marius was called back to the principia.
Villius had been caught, sneaking out of the vicus. Quintus had him shackled and waiting for Marius.
Kane did not want Elizabeth there for the interrogation, but Marius figured her presence would have him confessing, if only to relieve his conscience for what he had done to Kane.
They followed him into the yard of the principia, Kane’s back shouting at him for daring to walk so much. Quintus stood at the far end of the yard, Villius on his knees beside him. The bulky soldier looked like he had been beaten up.
“Captain.” Quintus stepped forward. “He resisted capture—”
“I didn’t do it!” Villius strained against the shackles that trapped his arms behind him. “I loved Boudica—I’d never hurt her—” His voice choked off, and Kane saw real grief on his face, for the woman who died.
“You had motive for every murder.” Marius limped forward, used his crutch to lower himself until he was eye to eye with Villius. “And you have the temper to lose control when a woman says the wrong thing to you.”
“No,” Villius whispered.
“You tried to set Kane up, and mete out justice yourself.”
He swallowed. “I was—angry. That you favored him, believed him, when we had proof—”
“And I told you I was investigating. I even had him confined, which you well know, since that is where you snatched him.”
“Sir.” Villius lowered his head. “I ask for the same mercy.”
“You will have it, Villius.” His head snapped up, surprise on his face. “You hardly deserve it, but I will have solid proof before I condemn.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Confine him, Quintus. He is to have half rations, and is to be treated as a suspect, not a convicted killer.”
“Yes, captain.”
Marius took the hand Quintus offered and stood, watching them leave before he turned back to Kane. “I did not ask your opinion of my approach, though you should have it.”
“What you did is right.” Kane closed his eyes, the sun too bright, the pain in his back gnawing at him.
“Kane?” Elizabeth’s quiet voice opened his eyes. She stood in front of him, the concern on her face like a balm. “Time for you to rest.”
“I will be—” A gasp escaped him when damaged muscle twitched.
“Of course you will. I’m taking you to bed.”
“Promises, promises,” he muttered.
He was grateful his back was turned when Marius started to laugh.
“I will have supper brought to your room later,” he said, once he regained control. “Appia can examine Boudica on her own—no argument, Elizabeth. I will make certain you both receive any new information. Rest well, my friends.”
Kane nearly tripped at the word. Friend. So simple, but it meant so much to someone who had none as a child, and less than a handful as an adult.
The walk back to the praetorium was a blur. Thankfully, it was next to the principia, and a short walk.
“Almost there.” Elizabeth had her arm wrapped around him, supporting his right side. “You should have said something. It’s only been three weeks, Kane. You’re human, you know—you are allowed to take time to heal.”
He glanced down at her. She smiled, but she did not look as hearty as she sounded. Her face was pale, and he knew headaches still plagued her.
“You need to rest as well.”
“I won’t lie. And don’t look at me like that. We won’t get any sleep if we end up in the same bed.” She stared straight ahead, but he was pleased to see the blush on her cheek when she said it. He wasn’t the only one daydreaming.
When they reached the bedroom, Elizabeth helped him sit on the bigger sleeping couch. He held on to her hand. “I promise only to hold you. Please, Beth.” He spoke the words he swore never to say. “I can’t sleep without you next to me.”
“Oh, Kane.” She kissed his scarred cheek. “No one has ever given me a better compliment. Okay—but you start any inappropriate touching, and I’m going to have to abandon you. You’re not ready for—vigorous contact sports.”
He laughed, remembering their first time, in the attic of Bridget’s house. And immediately blocked the memory, too late.
“I can promise my hands won’t be inappropriate. As for other body parts—there are some reactions out of my control.”
“Understood.” She helped him remove the loose shirt, and his shoes, but he noticed she deliberately avoided his trousers. She stripped down to her camisole and panties, and stood in front of him, slim, beautiful. “Which side is more comfortable for you?”
Neither one, but he traded sides throughout the night, to equalize the ache.
“Let’s start with the right side.”
He maneuvered himself, and let out a sigh as his body stretched out on the soft mattress. Elizabeth watched him, hands raised, most likely to grab him if he started to topple off.
“Okay,” she said. “Do you want me facing you, or…”
Her straightforward but obviously self-conscious questions charmed him. “I believe you should have your back to me. Then I won’t be tempted to kiss you, which would certainly lead to—contact sports.”
“Right.” She sat on the bed, pulled her hair forward so it draped over her breast, then lay down and scooted back, leaving space between them. Too much space. If he was going to sleep with her, he wanted to feel her. He slid his left hand aro
und her waist and drew her back until she spooned him. “Oh—Kane.”
“I told you I wouldn’t have control over certain reactions.” He bent his knees, slid his legs up so he felt every inch of her against him. “I want you, Beth, and I will never hide it from you. But I can control my baser urges. Now close your eyes, love.” He brushed his lips over her temple, her cheek, her ear. “Relax, Beth.”
She shivered, and let out a shaky breath. “I’ll try. Can you get the cover?”
He let go of her long enough to cover them with the lightweight damask, then pulled her in tight, his erection nestled against her warm, curving bottom. When she gasped, he spread his hands over her stomach, gave her time to get used to the feel of him, to trust that he would do nothing but hold her.
“Kane?”
“Yes, love?”
“I like the feel of you, pressed against me.”
He wanted to groan. Instead, he tightened his grip, and used all the control he had left to sound normal. “Get some sleep.”
She closed her hand over his, and he felt her relax.
“I love you, Kane.”
Every inch of his body wanted to show her how he felt. He used words instead.
“I love you, my Beth.”
Chapter Fourteen
When Elizabeth woke, it was nearly dark. She was still tired, hungry—and plastered against Kane, pressed into his hard, throbbing erection.
She glanced over her shoulder, and found him waiting for her, a smile tugging at his lips. “Sleep well, love?”
She heard the tension in his voice, felt it in the arm wrapped around her waist.
“I’m sorry—I didn’t—oh, God—” She eased out of his embrace and slipped off the sleeping couch, before she turned in his arms and jumped him. “Hungry?”
He winked at her. “Starving.”
A blush heated her face, and she moved to the table, lighting the lamp before she picked up the tray. It felt odd, serving him from a tray that looked brand new now, but would be thousands of years old in her time.
As they ate, she watched him. Every move was stiff, and he flinched if he lifted his arm too high.
“Okay,” she said, after he stifled a groan by stuffing a piece of bread in his mouth. “Time for you to get some actual sleep.”