Anguished, he went to her without thinking. She took his hand and drew him deeper into the darkness. “I knew you’d come,” she said and was in his arms. She was rapacious, the force of her passion rocking him. “I knew you’d come to me.” Her voice was feverish with desire, reminding him of another time, another woman. The memory slashed across his mind, opening old wounds.
Julia. She was like Julia had been, on fire with lust.
“What are you doing here?” he groaned, sluggish from the ale he had drunk.
“You wanted me here. I knew when I looked in your eyes tonight.”
“I came out to think.”
“No, you didn’t.” Anomia moved against him, her nails digging in. “You came out to be with me. You want me as much as I want you.” Her voice was like an animal growl in the hollow of her throat. “I see it in your eyes every time you look at me. You’re burning up with it the way I am.”
Her body moved. Her hands moved. He couldn’t breathe. “Don’t.”
“Why are you stopping me? You want this. You’ve wanted me since the first.” She let her head go back, wanting him to press his mouth to the curve of her neck. “Do it, Atretes. Do what you want.”
“Rizpah said to tell you she loves you and she always will.”
Atretes looked down at Anomia and felt the hot breath of hell in his face. Her throat was an open grave. He shoved her away from him and stumbled back. “No.” He struggled against the drink-induced cloud in his head. “No.”
Anomia came close, her flowing hair drifting with the cool night wind. He felt a strand of it like the gossamer web of a spider across his eyes. “You want me,” she breathed, her hands spreading over his chest. “I can feel your heart pounding.”
“You’re like Julia,” he said raggedly.
“Julia? Who’s Julia?” Her hands slipped away, her eyes narrowing.
Atretes drew back from her, dizzy from the ale.
“Caleb’s mother,” he said without thinking, the cold night air intensifying the effects of the ale.
Caleb’s mother? Anomia’s eyes gleamed. She came closer.
He swayed slightly, his laugh bitter. “Julia, lovely wanton Julia. She came to me in the temple of Diana, dressed like a harlot, bells on her ankles. She was beautiful, like you, and as corrupt as decaying flesh.”
Corrupt as decaying flesh? Anger flooded her being, cold and calculating. “I love you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”
“Love,” he sneered. “What do you know of love?”
She shook, hot tears moistening her eyes—tears of fury. “I know what it’s like to ache for someone and have them be indifferent to you.” How dare he treat her this way? She was a high priestess, more powerful than his own mother, more powerful than Gundrid. Half the men in the village were in love with her! Some would give their souls to taste what she was offering him!
Atretes saw her tears and regretted his harsh words. Perhaps she did love him. Vanity blinded him to the cunning heart that lay beneath the innocent facade.
Anomia knew. He was so proud, so full of himself. She put her hand on his arm, her hair floating up with the breeze, strands of it tangling around him. “Other men have wanted me.”
“I have no doubt,” he said hoarsely.
“I saved myself for you. I’m a virgin. No other man has had me. I waited for you.”
He looked at her, stunned. It never occurred to him that a virgin could have the mind of a harlot.
His body responded. He knew what she was offering, and the temptation shook him. “No,” he said before he could change his mind.
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve been down this road before, and I won’t walk it again.” He’d be lost if he did. He knew what it was like to be chained to a woman because of lust.
“You want me,” she said again, coming so close her body brushed his. “I can feel how much you want me.” Her touch was like fire. “The Ionian doesn’t love you the way I do.” She slid her hands up, relishing her sense of power when she felt his heart pounding against her palms. “If she did, she would’ve come to you weeks ago, begging for you to take her back.”
Atretes cringed at the thought.
Anomia brushed against him again and heard him suck in his breath. “I’ve waited so long for you. I’ll never hurt you the way she has. Just this once, Atretes.” Once and he would never be able to say no again. “Just once. No one has to know.”
He would know.
Atretes caught her wrists and took her hands from him. “She’s my wife, Anomia, and you know the law.”