Celtic Fire(90)
He laid one palm on the window frame. “It is not forbidden. I would ensure your welcome.”
She hesitated, then asked, “Is it me that you want, Lucius, or a respite from your brother’s ghost?”
He glanced at her, then away. “You claimed the words that would put Aulus’s soul to rest had to be spoken in the forest. You were there, yet you didn’t speak them.”
Her gaze faltered. “There wasn’t time.”
He contemplated the scene in the street below and weighed his words carefully. “If you can truly send him to the underworld, then do it.”
She rose, wrapping the blanket about her body. His hand dropped from the window as she took a step toward him. “I will send Aulus’s soul to its rest if you and Marcus travel south. You must leave on the morrow.” Before Madog lights the summer fires.
His voice hardened. “Without you?”
“Yes. You are in danger here.”
His gaze narrowed. “What do you know?”
“Trust me, Lucius. Please. For your son’s sake. More than that I cannot say.”
“You expect me to abandon my post at a woman’s word? No. I will stay until my replacement arrives. As will you.”
Anger sparked. “Then it matters little whether you call me slave or free.”
“Every woman must have a man for her master.”
She drew a sharp breath. “I do not. I have a home. A clan. A brother.”
He closed the distance between them with one swift stride. “A lover?”
If it would persuade Lucius to set her free … “Yes,” she said. “A lover. We will soon join hands as equals.”
“Equals.” He shook his head. “How can a man and a woman be equals?” Lucius lifted his hand and cupped her breast through the blanket. “Does a woman wield a sword?” He squeezed gently and smiled at the gasp she could not suppress. “Does a woman strike down her enemies, watch their blood spill over the earth?”
He crowded her with the fierce strength of his body, dipping his head to bring his lips within a breath of hers. She smelled her scent on him, as if she’d marked him as her own.
“Equal,” Lucius said, and laughed. “Does a woman face a brutal void when she looks into her heart? Does she yearn to fill it with her lover’s touch, knowing her strength will fail when she does?” He anchored her head between his hands and took her mouth with the kiss of a conqueror, plunging deep, allowing only the breath he deigned to give. Rhiannon’s traitorous body responded with a tremor of lust.
No. If he claimed her body again she would follow him to the corners of the earth. She clawed at his shoulders, desperate to break his hold.
“By Pollux! Perhaps you enjoyed our savage rut in the forest more than I thought. Was I too gentle last night? I can remedy that, I assure you.” He caught the soft slope between her neck and shoulder between his teeth. She gasped as he bit the tender skin.
“Lucius, no, I—”
He tore the blanket from her body and shoved her against the wall. His body covered her, skin against slick skin, his arousal questing. He claimed her mouth, invading it with his tongue.
Dear Briga, how to stop him before she surrendered? Rhiannon drove her knee up into his groin.
He jerked back and snarled a curse.
“Take your hands from me, Roman dog.” She saw her hateful words strike him as surely as if she’d dealt him a blow with a sword.
A flash of pain lit his eyes. It vanished almost immediately, leaving his expression devoid of emotion. He stepped away and gave a slight, ironic bow.
“Forgive me. My actions were inexcusable. Barbaric, one might say.” He strode across the room and retrieved her tunic from the floor.
Her hand trembled as she took it. He turned away as she slipped the garment over her head. He located his own clothes and shrugged into them.
“Why did you return?” he asked.
“Marcus …”
“You should have let my son die. A Roman pup will become a dog in time.”
She said nothing.
When he spoke again it was but a single word. “Go.”
Her head snapped up. “What?”
“Take whatever provisions you need and leave the fort. I’ll not stop you.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“No need,” he said, already turning away.
Chapter Nineteen
The forest had shifted.
Rhiannon felt the subtle transformation with every step that took her away from Vindolanda, though she couldn’t guess why or how the changes had come to pass. Surely the sunlight that peeked through the leafy canopy was no different. Oaks and elms still stretched their arms to the sky. Birds called; hares hopped. Yet in her heart she knew nothing would ever look the same.