For a Roman's Heart (9 page)

Then his gaze landed on the red cloak over her arm, and his attention narrowed. “Adrenia? You are here without your father? Without any protection?”

Despite everything she thought she knew about this man, fear rose inside her. She drew her shoulders back. “We are.”

She thought she saw admiration flicker in his gaze, and then concern flashed in his eyes just as quickly.

“Sir,” Adrenia said. “This is my dear friend, Pella Pictrix, wife to Tiberius Pontius Pictor, a farmer on Cordus land.”

Terentius saluted. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Pella had a ready smile for the centurion. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir. Please be gentle with my friend. She was ill this last week.”

Adrenia glared at her friend. “Pella.”

“Ill?” Terentius’s voice chopped through the stillness.

“It was nothing significant,” Adrenia said, intimidated by his fierce expression.

Pella squeezed Adrenia’s shoulder gently. “I’ll wait for you outside the fort.”

For a few seconds Adrenia’s stomach dropped, then her heartbeat quickened.
Alone with Terentius.
Excitement danced inside her and a little panic.

Terentius nodded at Pella. “Very well, ma’am.” He turned to the soldier. “Escort her from the fort and then remain with her until she is reunited with her friend. Make certain no harm comes to her.”

The soldier’s eyes didn’t flicker at the request. He saluted. “As you will it, sir.”

As the soldier and Pella disappeared down the street, Terentius assessed Adrenia once more with those disturbing eyes that stripped her of defenses. “Come in.”

He allowed her to enter first. The room had one window, and the remaining light came from a single candle on a desk against one wall. Through a door to the left she caught a glimpse of a pallet like hers at home, only much larger. Various equipment, his chain mail, his swords, other tools littered a worktable. A makeshift cooking area lay in one area. She stared, amazed, when she saw the Italic helmet on the table. He’d secured a transverse crest on top of the helmet in the same white and black she’d dreamed. A shiver passed through her. It shouldn’t surprise her that she’d foreseen his attire.

She touched the rough, stiff hairs used to make the crest. “I dreamt it was white and black.”

He closed the door and locked it. “What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

Terentius moved in close to her. Although he wore only a blue tunic, wide leather belt, and boots with socks, he intimidated with his size and masculinity. “You were ill?”

“A trifling thing. My stomach was unhappy for a day. Something I ate perhaps.”

Without missing a beat, he reached up and cupped his huge hand over her forehead.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“You don’t have a fever.”

“No, of course not.”

“You’ll see the
medicus
before you leave the fort.”

Surprised, she blurted the first word that came to mind. “No.”

He glared down at her. “You will. I won’t have it any other way. You were ill the day I first met you, weren’t you?”

“I believe so.”

“Damn it.”

She flinched.

His hands went to his hips, and he stalked the room like some untamed beast ready to erupt in violence.

He fascinated her. His body moved with assurance, muscles coiling and bunching.

It was terrifying to watch him.

And oh, so, exciting.

Her breath caught. She hadn’t imagined him that day he’d given her the cloak. He wasn’t a god come down to earth for a short stay to tantalize women, steal their hearts and leave. No. He was flesh. He was blood. In some way that was far more daunting and thrilling.

He turned and pointed at her, his soldiering voice in place. “You’ll see the
medicus
.”

“You’re not my husband, sir.” The defiance in her voice surprised her. “I do
not
have to obey you.”

He closed his eyes a second, then took a deep breath. “Do this for my peace of mind and to assure you are well. Not because you don’t want to obey me.”

“I don’t have funds to pay for a
medicus
.”

He waved a hand in dismissal. “I’ll pay.” Before she could launch another protest, he crossed to a table and picked up a goblet. He handed it to her. “Take this water. You must be thirsty. I just poured this.”

She had a strong thirst, and as she sipped the water, the cold, delicious drink eased her throat and calmed her. “Thank you.”

Before she could speak again, he asked, “Is that my cloak?”

“Yes.” She held it out to him, but he didn’t take it.

“Why did you bring it back? I realize it is worn, but—”

“No.” She almost gasped the word, and when she reached out to touch his chest, her hand brushed hardness. She snatched her hand back. “It isn’t that, sir. You were most generous to allow me to borrow it.”

“It was a gift. Yours to keep.”

His heartfelt statement shook her down to her boots. “I thank you. It kept me warm. I…it was on my bed and kept me comfortable during this last cold snap.”

“Then why did you bring it back?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“My parents insisted I return it.”

His lips tightened, and muscles in his jaw worked. He turned away and stared out the window. “I see. Though I’m not surprised.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I did not mean to offend.”

“Offend?” Once more he turned towards her, and his hand came up.

She flinched and drew back.

He frowned, but his voice was soft. “Did you think I was going to hit you?” He clasped her shoulders and leaned in close. “Listen to me. I’d never raise a hand to you. I don’t hurt women or children. I’ve never beaten a woman or child, nor will I suffer anyone to do so.”

Realizing that she trembled from head to toe, Adrenia closed her eyes and took a shivering breath. Her muscles, which had locked tight, eased.

“Goddess.” He rubbed her shoulders. “I was only reaching to do this.” He lifted his left hand slowly and touched her uneven hairline. “Who did this to you, Adrenia?” When she wouldn’t answer, he continued. “Were your parents angry about this cloak?”

His hand brushed over her hair, then her cheek in a touch that made her want to melt like a kitten under a caress. “They say it isn’t appropriate for an unmarried woman to take a gift from a soldier.”

His eyebrows went up. “Even an officer?”

“Not any man.”

He sniffed. “It’s as I told your father. No daughter of mine, no woman who belonged to me would go without protection from the elements.”

“Because you have enough money?”

“I do well enough. Enough to provide a wife with clothes.”

At the word wife, something hot and unbidden shot through her. “I’m not your wife, sir.”

He grunted. “As you said before. Please, Adrenia, don’t call me sir. Call me Terentius.”

“Terentius.” She spoke without thinking. “You are quite different.”

“Different?”

“From any man I’ve known.”

Silence dropped over them once more. She noted one thing she’d missed earlier in her survey of his modest quarters. Another cloak, this one a darker red and newer, lay looped over the back of a chair.

“You have another cloak?” she asked.

“I’m borrowing it from a fellow centurion who has two.”

She laid his cloak and the exquisite broach that went with it onto the chair with the other cloak. “There are weavers hereabouts who sell to soldiers.
I’ve
made cloaks.”

A genuine, wide smile brightened his features. She couldn’t help but stare into those verdant eyes and noticing his thick, dark lashes. “Then why didn’t you make one for yourself?”

“My mother said I have to sell most everything I make. I keep a few garments so I have a little something to wear, but she insisted I sell the last cloak I made to one of her friends.”

His gaze dropped to the long-sleeved grey
tunica
she wore, its ends falling in folds down around her ankles.

“If you need a new cloak…” she started to say.

“You’d make it for me?”

“I could.”

He walked to a table and withdrew money from a bag. He returned to her side and handed her the coins. “Will this be enough for a brand new cloak?”

Adrenia’s eyes widened. “This is too much. I cannot accept it.”

“You should be paid handsomely for good work. And I know you will weave a fine cloak for me.”

“But—”

He put one hand up. “If you do a poor job, I’ll take some of my money back. Does that sound fair?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

His eyes gleamed with enjoyment, and she understood then he was the most breathtaking man she’d seen in her life. She allowed her gaze to lock with his, and that slow-burning heat that always seemed to stir inside her when he was near came to full life.

“How long will it take to make?” he asked.

“With the orders I already have, a few days at the least.”

“So be it. I shall visit soon and see how the work goes.”

His eyes burned into hers as if he could read her every secret. It stirred passions hot and undeniable. Her heart and soul opened wider, expanded to accept more of who he was into her soul.

He brushed his hand over her hair. “I’m so sorry about this, Adrenia. Your parents punished you because of me.”

She nodded. “No. They punished me because I accepted your cloak.”

Terentius made a sound of disgust. His hands rubbed her shoulders, and the heat of two big palms caressing her created fierce longing. “What did your parents say to you?”

She shook her head.

He lifted her chin so she was forced to look into his eyes. “Please tell me.”

“They said if I took the cloak I must have allowed you liberties. That I...I must have allowed you sexual congress.”

His brow furrowed. “Goddess.”

“I told them I didn’t, but I think even if they believed me…” She shrugged again.

He released her, his eyes stormy. “Why were you on the road alone that day?”

“I’d just come from the Haunted Woods.”

He tilted his head to the side a little. “Haunted Woods.”

“You must have come right through them on your way here.”

Understanding broke through his expression. “Ah, yes. It is a strange place. You weren’t frightened?”

“Of course not.” She shook her head, and he released her arms. “Why should I be?”

“With a name like the Haunted Woods, it must have a reputation.”

She wandered across the room. “Everyone is afraid of it. They say bad deeds and awful ghosts live there.”

“Do you believe that?”

She nodded and turned to pin him with a curious gaze. “Did you feel anything strange when you traveled through there?”

“I’m always cautious when I’m in any woods because bandits dwell there. Sometimes soldiers are ambushed in the woods. I allow my instincts to guide me.”

Her next statement slipped from her without thought. “Please be careful.”

Curiosity and surprise etched his features. “Always. But I cannot avoid the woods when I go to Durobrivae next week. Ermine Street crosses right through your Haunted Woods.”

Disappointment stung deep inside her. “Why are you going to Durobrivae next week? Are you leaving for good?”

“No. We’re hunting for a deserter from the fortress at Deva and received a tip on his whereabouts. A soldier from the fort at Durobrivae thought he’d met the man some time back.”

“A deserter?”

“Exactly.” He returned to stand close to her once more. “Please do me a favor?”

“If I can.”

“This man is dangerous. Brutal. I know there are many men like this and that you often travel without protection.” He frowned deeply. “That worries me.”

That traitorous blossoming heat started low in her stomach once more. “You’re very kind, but I don’t have a man to protect me. My father is sometimes with me, but he can’t be everywhere I am.”

This time, when he reached up to touch her hair, she didn’t recoil. “I understand. But please, please take care. Don’t go to the Haunted Woods by yourself.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in haunted places.”

“I believe in places where evil is done…or was done. And perhaps people can feel that evil and mistake it for a haunt.”

She shivered delicately as his hand caressed her cheek. “You shouldn’t touch me this way.”

“I won’t touch you this way if you say no.”

“Why
do
you touch me like this?” she asked, breathless.

His hand left her hair and caressed her cheek. “Because since the day I saw you, I felt something I have never felt before. It makes me long for something I shouldn’t. I asked you not to fear me Adrenia, but maybe you should.”