by Amy Jarecki
Taran cleared his throat. “We must start at once. Elspeth will be our contact, but I do not wish her to camp at Vindolanda. Set her up in a roundhouse near the fort. And guard it, for no woman is safe alone.”
“I can take care of meself,” Elspeth huffed.
“Ye’ll listen to the king,” Greum bellowed, and then shot a narrow-eyed glance at Titus. “One word from me sister indicating any mistreatment—ye have been warned.”
Titus swallowed hard not because of the threat, but because he would get another chance to win Elspeth’s affections and catch the man behind the raids. This meeting had proceeded far better than he’d hoped. “I give you my word. Elspeth will be protected just as any Roman subject—though she’ll need to remain hidden until I can clear her name with Theodosius.”
Greum folded his arms. “Now why does that not leave me feeling all cozy inside?”
Taran held up his hand. “It is decided. The Picts and the Romans shall declare a truce. All charges against Pict subjects shall be dismissed. Elspeth shall assist in finding Josias, and Titus, Centurion of the Twenty-second Legion shall see this outlaw plagues us no longer.”
Titus was aware charges had been laid against the king for desertion, but that was under the rule of a different Dux Britanniarum—ironically, the Pict queen’s father. Agreeing to a treaty with this formidable tribe seemed a strategic move in establishing peace and prosperity along the northern frontier of Britannia.
His gaze strayed to Elspeth. This alliance would bring her close to him again, and he hoped this time she would stay.
****
Aside from thanking Titus for returning her beloved horse, Elspeth said little on the first day of their ride back to Vindolanda. She caught Titus’s gaze continually shifting toward her. Surely he wanted to talk, but the fact he had sent her to the gaol—and condemned her to burn—could not be easily cast aside for either of them. This thought conflicted with the euphoria of seeing him again. Had he truly forgiven her deception as she’d prayed he had? Now that she’d finally found a way beside him, Elspeth couldn’t separate her mixed concoction of emotions. Her skin tingled, yet her head throbbed. What if Theodosius rejected Titus’s argument for her assistance? Would he again demand she be burned? Would Titus obey the count like a sheep led down the run of a shearing yard? If he dared deceive her, she’d strangle him for certain.
But being close to Titus, riding with him, none of her doubts seemed to matter. She could have swooned when she’d watched his magnificent form standing with his fists on his hips at the bottom of the hill. Though a tad shorter than King Taran, Titus was as broad and sturdy as the great man himself. She would never admit it to the women of Dunpelder, but she thought Titus even more handsome, with his closely cropped chestnut hair and hazel eyes that could strike fear through a man’s soul with a glance.
Still unable to form the words filling her heart, she settled for the enjoyment in the harmony of horse and rider with Tessie beneath her. Moreover, it gave her confidence that Titus knew who she was. He had not been repulsed by her skill with a bow, and now, even knowing she had been a spy, he clearly indicated that he wanted her near Vindolanda. She would no longer need to pretend to be a forlorn waif. That persona did not suit her—she preferred sneaking through forts and forests with her bow, and now she did not have to hide it.
There were so many things she wanted to say. So many questions to ask, but she could utter not a word with Colin the Gale riding with them. Perhaps Titus felt the same.
Elspeth did not trust Colin. Aside from being a Gale, the man had made friends with Taran and Greum, and Elspeth feared any slip of her tongue would make its way back to Dunpelder on eagle’s wings. And she could not forget Colin the Gale was a mercenary, loyal to the highest bidder. The man could turn traitor in the blink of an eye.
They rode until late afternoon, when the Gale pulled up his horse at a fork in the trail. “This is where I head home east.”
Titus held up his hand in salute. “You have been an honest traveling companion. Safe journey to you.”
Elspeth offered a smile and a nod.
Colin winked. “Goodbye, fair lassie. If ye’re ever in need of a roof, me cottage is always open to ye.”
Her jaw dropped. How could he be so forward, and in front of the centurion?
Frowning, Titus reined his horse toward the west fork. “Come.”
The trail cut through the forest and was too narrow for them to ride side-by-side. Elspeth had been praying for time alone with Titus, but now her mouth dried like dust. What should I say? I’m sorry I deceived ye? Will ye take me into the brush and kiss me again? Ever?
Titus kicked his stallion forward and regarded her over his shoulder. “We will need to make camp before the sun sets.”
Once Elspeth recovered from the onslaught of butterflies attacking her insides, she remembered where they were. “I ken a secluded spot where we’ll be safe.” When the trial widened a bit, she tapped her heels against Tessie’s sides. “Follow me.”
Thick clouds loomed above and the warmth from the air turned colder as the sun set. She led him down a narrow path that appeared more like a game trail. The trees were dense and blocked more of the sun. About a quarter-mile in, she stopped Tessie in a glade, green with wild grasses. “We can hobble the horses here.”
Titus dismounted and removed his helmet. “This place is beautiful.”
“Aye, and ye should see what’s yonder.”
After securing the horses, Elspeth led Titus along another narrow path that opened to a glassy pond fed by a tumbling waterfall. She watched his expression change from serious centurion to a countenance of a man seeing the beauty of nature spread before him. His sharp inhale caused butterflies to swarm inside her.
Elspeth clapped a hand to her chest to quash the longing. This was one of her favorite places. Giant oaks arced over the deep blue water with green moss draping down from gnarled branches. Though no higher than six feet, the waterfall cascaded over rocks while thrumming a babbling tune.
Elspeth grasped his hand and led him to the edge of the pool. Her palms perspired, but she tried to keep her voice steady. “This is a Pictish bath. ’Tis much cooler than Romans like it.”
With a faint smile, Titus knelt down and swirled his hand through the water. “It reminds me of the pictures in a book my nurse read to me as a child.”
“Aye?” Elspeth crouched beside him and scooped the water. “’Tis spring fed and pure.” She offered her trembling hand. “Taste.”
A hot flush radiated up her cheeks as Titus lowered his eyes and pressed his mouth to her palm. He gently sipped the cool water. “Delicious,” he said, licking his lips. She could scarcely breathe when he brushed her cheek with his fingers. “We must fill our waterskins.”
She stared at him and nodded once.
He made no move.
If only she could wrap her arms around him and smother him with kisses. But he wouldn’t want that. She’d betrayed him—he only wanted her to interpret for him. She must not make a fool of herself. She would perform her duty and maintain her loyalty to the Picts—just as King Taran had commanded.
Titus stood and grasped her hand. “Come. We need to find food before dusk.”
A rock sank to the pit of her stomach, and she tugged her hand away. He would never want to kiss her, not ever again. She stopped. “Can you ever forgive…”
Movement across the pool snapped Elspeth to action. In one motion she snatched an arrow from her quiver and loaded her bow. She waited for the movement again. A bush of yellow gorse shook and a jackrabbit leapt into sight. Without hesitation, she snapped the bowstring. The arrow shot the animal clean through the heart and it dropped without a lingering death.
Titus grinned. “Well done.” He strode to the rabbit and tugged out the arrow. “I’ll clean and cook it since you made the kill.”
She bit her lip. At least the rabbit had pulled them from awkwardness. Elspeth would have been unbelievably embarrassed if she
’d poured out her heart only to meet his rejection. “Still dubious about me cooking are ye now?”
“How much damage can one do to a rabbit turned over a spit?” Titus grinned and led her back to the glade. “If you gather the wood and start the fire, I’ll make quick work of this carcass.”
By the time they ate, it had grown dark and cold. Across the small fire, Elspeth watched Titus lick his fingers. Something in her expression must have stopped him, and he held her gaze, his lips slightly parted. Her bottom lip trembled and a shiver coursed through her body. She pulled her cloak tightly around her shoulders.
His hazel eyes reflected the flickering firelight. “You are cold.”
“Aye.”
Titus scooted beside her. “The heat from our bodies is the best way to fight a chill.” He tugged on her cloak. “Let us wrap this around us both. I will warm you.”
Elspeth slowly opened her trembling arm. Having him so near muddled her mind. She needed to keep reminding herself he didn’t want her. Oblivious to her inner battle, Titus pulled the edge of her cloak around his shoulder, and sipped his mantle beneath. His body was hot as a hearth.
She swallowed—if only she could tell him how she felt—pour out a miserable apology. But she couldn’t. She brushed her nose over his mantle and inhaled the woodsy smell. Heaven help her, she ached to touch him. “I-I should have tied a blanket to me saddle, but I did not ken I’d be leaving Gododdin.”
He gently pulled her onto his lap and brushed a lock of hair away from her face. “Sit with me for a bit.”
Elspeth’s breath quickened. “I should not.” She tried to slip off his warm thighs, but he held her firm.
Titus brushed his lips across her cheek. “You need not fear me.” He inhaled. “But there is one thing I must know.”
“Aye?”
“Your kisses. The ones in my chamber.” He rested his forehead against hers.
Elspeth tried to speak but nothing came out. Those marvelous kisses—the ones that kept her awake at night. How could she forget them?
“Did they mean nothing to you?” His voice grew hoarse.
She raised her head and searched his eyes. She saw pain, vulnerability, something she had never seen in those changing hazel eyes before. Had she hurt him? The kisses had haunted him too? Her tongue slipped out with her inhale. “I cannot sleep for thinking of yer lips against mine.” It was but a whisper, but she was certain he’d heard her.
A nervous tick twitched at the back of his jaw. “But you were there on a mission—when you left, I…I felt betrayed.”
“Aye. I was there under the king’s orders, though he had no authority over me own feelings.”
Drawing in a stuttered breath, Titus cupped her face with his hands. “Do you mean that?”
She lowered her lashes. “’Tis not in me nature to lie. I fear I am not very good at it.”
Ever so slowly, he inclined his head and brushed his soft lips over her forehead. How on earth could such a hardened warrior be this gentle, his lips so exquisitely soft? “You had me caught in your web.” His voice grew husky.
Elspeth lifted her chin and looked in his eyes, glowing amber in the firelight. His gaze held hers, intense as if he were starving—but for her. She couldn’t even blink. “And now, m’lord?”
He inclined his head, fanning those amber eyes with long lashes. The scent of spicy male washed over her as he neared, and for a fleeting moment, it crossed her mind that this was inappropriate. But when his mouth clamped atop hers with the ferocity of a warrior, Elspeth couldn’t have pulled away if she had desired to do so. A fire ignited deep in her belly, a cavernous yearning so powerful it consumed her being. Elspeth wrapped her arms around his neck, swirling her tongue with his, tasting him—savory, yet sweeter than honey.
Her fears melted. The only thing she could sense was Titus, the warmth of his skin, the strength of the hands that clutched her against him. She wanted to be closer. When she smoothed her arms down his muscular shoulders, her breasts caressed his chest. A craving more intense than hunger swelled within them.
Titus’s manhood jutted against her buttock. She had never seen a man naked but had heard Greum mention the way a man’s sex hardens like a horse when he wants to mate.
A gush of moisture leaked from her most sacred spot, and she shuddered in his arms.
“Are you still cold?”
Elspeth sucked in a ragged breath. “Nay. I am warm to the point of bursting.”
“I’ll be but a moment.” He lifted her off his lap and headed for Petronius.
Too quickly, the warmth from his amazing kiss fled. She shivered as soon as he stepped away. Had he honestly kissed her? Elspeth’s lips tingled, and she touched her hand to her mouth. Was there a chance he could forgive her?
Titus returned with a woolen blanket. “We can rest this atop the moss and lie beneath our cloaks.”
Though it was summer, a chill still came with the night air. She looked behind, not that she expected to see anything, but to clear her mind. She should not lie beside him—but then she’d never wanted anything so much in her life than to be close to this man. Holding his stare, she stood.
Titus tugged off his chainmail, then unfastened his doublet and let it fall to the ground. Elspeth’s eyes dropped to his tunic. Beneath, his maleness tented the orange linen fabric. She gasped. Another rush of moisture heated her core.
He crawled onto the blanket.
Oh how she wanted to slip beside him and throw caution to the wind. But though her heart desired him more than life, her reasoning forced her to remain completely still. “Titus, I am but a maid. I cannot.”
“Just lie beside me. I will control my urgings.” He raised his arms and beckoned her.
She hesitated for a moment. There was no other place to bed down. Trembling, she crawled alongside him. Rolling to her side, she lay with her back to him.
Titus draped a sturdy arm across her waist and drew her close until their bodies molded together. The rigid shaft of his manhood slid into the cleft of her buttocks. “Elspeth?”
“Aye?”
“Are you promised to anyone?” His voice had turned smoother than butter.
“Nay. Greum cannot find a man he deems suitable. That’s what happens when yer brother negotiates yer betrothal.” She shifted her buttocks. “Taran asked the queen to help.”
“Did he?”
****
Titus didn’t know how much longer he would be able to withstand Elspeth’s lovely bottom pushing against his erection. When she’d snuggled into his chest beside the fire, scent of wood smoke and woman nearly made him spill his seed—he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been with a woman, nor did he want to. Presently the object of his every desire rested before him, rubbing her bottom against his throbbing cock.
If he took her, he would need to make her his wife. He could not sign a treaty with the Picts and bed their spy. King Taran had put Elspeth in his care with strict instructions to keep her safe. Besides, Greum would come after him and not rest until he’d crucified Titus on an oaken cross.
Wife.
The word had never tempted him until now. What would his father do if he sent a missive to Rome advising that he had found the love of his life in the wild, beyond the realm of civilization?
Elspeth moved.
His cock throbbed. His mind could not focus.
If they were married, Titus could lose himself in her pleasures every night. “Would you consider a life with someone like me?” Had the words actually escaped him?
She rolled over and faced him—her breath as tempting as a ripe berry. “Ye would marry the likes of me?”
Indeed, she’d heard him. He had no regrets. “Aye, lass,” he said, affecting a Pictish brogue.
Chuckling, she threaded her arms around his neck. Titus’s breathing spiked as she boldly took control, moving her lips closer, until her silken mouth joined with his. Unable to think of anything but the woman in his arms, he lost himself in her floral s
cent. She tasted as wild as the Highland frontier. Titus pulled her into his embrace, his chest growing hot with the supple breasts plying him.
Unable to resist, he moved his hand over her breast and circled his fingers around her hardened nipple. Elspeth groaned into his mouth and stretched her slender leg over his hips. Filling her crux with his manhood, Titus pressed himself into her warm center. God help him, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. His arousal languished on the brink of oblivion, too overwhelmingly scorching to stop.
Her demanding kisses became frantic with nibbles to his tongue, his chin, his earlobes. She tugged up his tunic. Titus rose up and helped her pull the linen over his head. The cloak slid aside and revealed his member. The firelight danced upon him, making his manhood appear as inflamed as he felt.
Elspeth stared and licked her lips. She reached out her hand and stroked him with deft fingers. Titus sucked in a sharp breath and arched his back. Her light touch magically took him to paradise.
Shuddering, he swirled his hand over her breasts. “I want to see you naked… Please.”
Her fingers trembled as much as his. Without a word, she gave him a nod. Together they tugged up her gown over her thighs, and the linen smock beneath came with it. Unable to wait, he pulled off both garments and beheld the most luscious alabaster skin on earth—pure white like a sculpted Roman goddess. The flames danced across her flesh, flickering erotically.
Perfectly formed breasts tantalized him. Her slim waist curved to wantonly seductive hips with luscious red curls at her apex. His breath caught when the light caught her thighs. “Archers.”
“’Tis me Pictish sign,” she said with an uptick to her chin.
He hadn’t forgotten the hint of defiance in her demeanor. He loved even that. He rubbed his palm over one of the blue tattoos. “They suit you.”
She smiled, and Titus’s heart twisted harder. God, he loved her dimples.
He again cupped her breasts in his hands. Filling his palms completely, he massaged her. Elspeth whimpered. “What’s happening to me?”
His tongue flicked out and teased her nipple. “The passion between a man and a woman provides the greatest thrill on earth.”