Seduced by the Gladiator(14)

I was too far gone in my irritation to care. Besides, it could only do well for my reputation for the other men to see me dominating our newest recruit.

“Do you not have any understanding of the world outside of the ludus?” I very nearly stomped my foot, I was so mad. As Christus stared back at me, not shirking away from my words, I was reminded of some of his earliest words to me, about how we were possibly not so different.

Unease crept into my gut, along with a trickle of shame. I pushed it away, stomped it down, but it refused to be vanquished.

Christus stepped toward me, not touching me but still much too close for my comfort. I sucked in a breath as I felt the power radiating off his skin.

Something about him drew me to him. I could not succumb to the desire.

“I know more about that life than anyone should ever have to, especially someone as beautiful as you. Do not for a moment think that I do not understand you. I think that perhaps I understand better than anyone else.” He leaned in, just the slightest bit, until his lips were a mere whisper away from my own. My mind shrieked at me to push him away, that no matter how much my body was suddenly screaming for his touch, it was the worst thing that I could do.

The choice was taken away from me unexpectedly. The air to my front seemed cold as he abruptly left. He strode away as his words finished sounding, this time his feet raising great clouds in the sand instead of graceful puffs, a fact that I noticed dumbly as his words sank into my mind. I was so stunned by his comment on my beauty and by the shame I felt that I stood stricken silent for a long moment.

He thought I had beauty? No one had ever thought that in my life. Speechless, I watched as the sinewy man whose hair shone black as the night sky strode out among the pairs that were training for their next battle in the arena. The expression on his face was so fierce that the first man he faced physically recoiled, turning away to another partner.

Christus stood alone, daring the men to partner with his anger. Finally Darius moved to face him, but not before sending a measured look my way.

I knew Darius well enough to know his thoughts. With that look, he was telling me that perhaps it would not be so bad to have a protector.

I could not find it within myself to relinquish that much control.

For once, I did not feel like watching my friend’s graceful form. Instead, my eyes followed Christus’ every move as he worked his way through the exercise. The concentration on his face was absolute, focused completely on the movements of his wooden training sword, which moved with precision but not, I knew, actually biting through a man’s flesh or bone.

The unrelenting sun shone down on sweating skin stretched tight over solid muscle on all of the men, but I could not turn away from this man, his form displaying muscles that stood out in sharp relief, hardened from physical activity that never seemed to cease.

Though he had appeared in my chamber the night before in a light traveling tunic, he now followed custom and wore the same brief leather garment of the other men. The subligaculum sat low on his hips, showcasing a flat stomach and the edges of hipbones that suddenly caused my mouth to go dry.

I had never before thought twice about the garment that we all wore—clothing was simply something that hindered movement in the arena. But on Christus, there was a lot of skin visible to glisten in the honeyed sun of late afternoon, and after his comment on my beauty, I was suddenly aware of the man in a manner in which I did not want to be.

I wasn’t beautiful, this I knew, and my looks were not something that should have even been a thought in my head. But it seemed that I was not above having my head turned, even if just a bit, by such a compliment.

It had been so long since I had had one that did not pertain to my prowess in the arena.

“Finally, you have found your place. Watching the men, rather than trying to be one.” Bavarius walked past me toward the same water urn that Christus had just drunk deeply from. He had managed to approach me unannounced while I was preoccupied with Christus, and I cursed myself for the foolishness.

The sight of his smile brought chilly fear washing over my skin in a manner that it did not when I was with Christus. This time I did turn, the better to keep my watchful eyes on him as the man drank deeply, more than his fair share in weather that could easily lead to drought, then splashed yet more water over his round face.

I did not like the way that he eyed me now, so familiarly. I had been forced to teach him a lesson before, but did not relish doing so again—he was not the strongest of gladiators, but he did not fight fairly, something that always tilted the odds in his favor.

Added to the matter was that fact that he had once tasted me. I was sorely afraid that, combined with a need to retaliate, he found my body to his taste.