Seduced by the Gladiator(10)

“I must apologize for my actions this day.” Warm golden light from the candle that I had lit for my kills danced over the strong features of Christus’ face as he stepped toward me. I held out a hand and tried to force some sort of strength into my voice.

“Stay away. Stay over there.” I hated the fear that made my words tremble. I could best Bavarius if I needed to. Christus, however, was an unknown entity, a large man with a rank equal to my own.

I hated to even think it, but I suspected that if he wanted to force me beneath him, he could.

Christus halted in place as I had requested, which abated my fear only the smallest bit. I swallowed hard, trying to force it down, to think rationally. I was not new to the ludus anymore, was not weak in the body or the mind. I was a warrior.

“Why are you frightened?” That he saw my emotion infuriated me, and I was glad of it, for it added some steel to my spine. I sat up straight, moved to the edge of my bedroll, and planted my feet.

“Who says that I am?” My words were hollow in the small room, and we both knew it.

I did not know what to make of the concern that played over the man’s features, or the anger that quickly followed.

“Do you know who I am?” My throat was dry, and I had trouble forcing the words out.

Christus looked me over as if seeing me for the first time, and his stare was inexplicably tender, waking things inside of me that I did not want awakened.

“I do.” He seemed to be such a serious man. What had made him that way?

It did not matter. I should not care.

“You are Lilia, the most ferocious woman in all of Rome.”

I should have felt pride at his words, but was too caught up in the intensity of the moment. How was it possible to feel so much, all at the same time?

“I am not just the most ferocious woman. I am the most vicious gladiator, woman or man.” My voice shook with the effort of not succumbing to the man’s obvious concern.

I could not trust it. I could not trust any man save Darius, and my friend had earned such trust only because I knew he had no interest in thrusting his cock between my thighs.

“You are the only female gladiator.” Was that wonder that I heard? Why was the man looking at me warily, as if I both fascinated and confused him? “You are special.”

“Do you fear me?” I meant to try to intimidate him. Being loud, brash, and bold had served me well with other gladiators. Nothing in the way that Christus stood, watching me, told me that he was afraid. If anything, he seemed . . . protective, was all that I could think. As if he wanted to wrap me in his arms and save me from the world’s hurts.

The man shook his head, and I thought that the ghost of a smile whispered around his lips. Thinking that he mocked me, that he jested over my strength, I tensed, preparing to attack.

“Who has hurt you?” The incline of his torso told me that he wanted to step forward, to touch, to soothe, and that he held himself back as I had commanded.

That was all well and good, but I knew that men changed in the dark.

“I am not hurt, Christus of house Manius.” I forced myself to my feet, willing my body into a combative pose. Perhaps if he feared me, he would leave me alone.

I did not care for the way his eyes swept over me. They were not lecherous like those of so many others, but rather saw too much of the truth, leaving me raw and open. And though I didn’t like being seen as I truly was, it also awakened something in me, something that moved hand in hand with arousal, a temptation to drop all pretenses and sink into this man’s strength and warmth.

“Apologies, my lady.” With a stiff nod, Christus stepped back, a deliberate acknowledgment of my request. “I meant no insult.”

“I am not a lady.” I all but hissed the words, fussing because the way that they had come from his lips, like warm wine, appealed to me. “I—”

A crash from down the hall stopped my words in midsentence. Again tense, I cocked my ear to listen and heard the unmistakable sound of Bavarius’ voice, drunk and growing ever louder.

My eyes were fixed on the wooden door at the far side of the room. It was shut, so perhaps in his drunken state, if he couldn’t see me, he would leave me alone.

But then again, the closed door might simply be a challenge to the brute.

Before I could decide what to do, Christus was at the simple plank of wood, pulling it open wide. I scrambled from the bed, shouting my protest.

“Get out of my way.” Swallowing my fear, I channeled the Lilia who faced down giants in the arena. I grabbed my prayer candle, clutching it tightly in suddenly sweaty fingers.

If either man laid a single finger on me, I would incinerate him.

“Get back.” With one strong arm, Christus blocked my way to the door. Growling with frustration, I crouched and prepared to shove him out of the way so that I could meet Bavarius’ attack head on.