Ancient Ties (5 page)

“In vino veritas,” Janney continued to babble. Ah, she did know some Latin. “You don’t have to do this.”

What a goofy thing to say. But it’s not like I’m the sexiest or
prettiest woman in the world. God knows, Ed told me that often enough.

“Mm?”

“You don’t have to sit here with me.” Janney just couldn’t stop. “Woman, you talk too much.”

Marek was suddenly there, his heat and masculine scent almost overwhelming her. His fingers brushed her cheek. His thumb pressed the side of her mouth, pushing open her lips. His face was so close, and Janney inhaled his scent of—she didn’t know what—clean male, leather, the sweet wine on his breath.

Horse.
Horse?
When was the last time she smelled a horse?

“Umm.” Her mind went blank. She tried to shake her head, to move away from him. But it wasn’t just his thumb any longer; it was his whole hand clasped around her nape, holding her in place.

“I don’t want you to go away, Janney Forrester,” he rasped, in what if she didn’t know better, sounded almost like a pleading voice. He loomed inches away.

His face was all she could see. All she could hear was his breath rasping little puffs of air on her cheeks. “You’re going to kiss me,” she gasped softly, her heart in her throat. His eyes, half-lidded, lips opening. Mesmerized, she couldn’t see his eyes now. Just his lips. Those firm, luscious, gorgeous lips. Getting closer. Closer. It was obvious what he planned. Janney tried to stifle her moan. And it was so obvious that he was going to succeed. God, she wanted to taste him. Wine and man. He was so large. His body so hot. Desire swamped her. She didn’t want to be a good girl anymore. She just needed his lips on hers.

Marek plucked the wine goblet out of her hand and dropped it onto the grass. He growled a whispered, “Yes,” as his lips took hers.

Gently, he sipped and caressed. So gently. Smooth and moist, his lips brushed hers. His tongue touched and glided.

Probed at her mouth.

She didn’t want to open her lips. Couldn’t let him in. It was too much. Too much, too fast. The tips of her breasts tightened painfully—achingly—as her belly clenched, heat spread, and she knew she was wet.
God, this is happening too fast.
He raised his head for a second, Janney moaned, “Mmm…I thought I read…ah…that Romans don’t…ummm…kiss.” He licked the seam of her lips. She couldn’t hold back the moan as desire streaked through her body.

“Well…” His lips opened wide over hers.

Janney couldn’t imagine what he was going to say. She didn’t care.

“Stop talking,” he groaned.

His lips engulfed hers again—harder this time, commandingly. He’d met her head on at first, their noses bumping, but he turned and angled back in a different way.

Janney didn’t move, caught as if in suspended animation, waiting for his direction. Poised, lips parted, neck arched, reaching for more.

God.
She clutched the front of his tunic to keep from falling away.

He slid his other hand around her waist and pulled her right off the seat and into his lap, groaning his satisfaction. She didn’t know if she should give in or hold him off, didn’t even know how much longer she could actually make a rational decision.

Lost in the passion, her head was spinning.

It had been so long since she’d been kissed—and she’d never
ever
been kissed like this. Any power of thought rapidly disappeared with his hot, wet tongue thrusting into her mouth, sweeping her wholeheartedly into the kiss. Janney arched closer, wrapping her arms around his neck and shamelessly rubbing her breasts against the solid wall of his chest. Moaning frantically, she still knew she
should
stop this. She thought she should. Yes!

She pushed experimentally. Did she really want him to stop? The

fact that he seemed totally enthralled, excited her. The strength in his arms holding her, not letting her get away. One hand splayed across her back and the other was threaded through her hair, cradling her head. She felt wanted. Desired.

He lifted his head a fraction.

Don’t let me go.
“You don’t kiss like a two thousand year old man.”
How stupid can I get?
His lids lifted. She could see the glitter of his eyes under the black lashes. Pure desire. Janney instinctively recognized it. She didn’t know how. Ed had never looked at her like this. She’d never felt, in her entire time with Ed, this all-consuming desire she felt right now. Felt in the arms of this man that she didn’t know anything about.

Heat radiated off Marek. His arms shook as he tightened his hold. Her chest rose and fell with his, puffs of breath bathing her face. Oh, God, the joy of knowing that he couldn’t breathe any better than she could. The thrill of hearing the little growls in his throat.

“No?” his voice a deep rumble. He focused on her mouth again. This time, sucking on her lower lip, tugging it between his teeth.

Oh, God, so gentle
. His mouth, so hot. It felt natural—

right—for her tongue to follow over his lips and into his mouth.

Marek’s tongue slid along hers, caressed it, rolling over it.

Suckled it.
Oh, God.
She tightened her arms around his neck and held his head steady while she stroked his tongue back into her mouth. This was all so strange, and yet, not. Kissing was kissing no matter the century. And he sure as hell knew how to curl her toes with his kisses. She tried to hang on to reason but he was so warm, hot in fact. His arms tight around her made her safe.

When she shouldn’t be. But…

Moaning softly, almost continuously—his mouth was pure magic, so fantastic—

Janney strained against him, her entire focus on their lips, their tongues. She pushed. He pulled. She wriggled her bottom on his thighs. Her brain whirled ferociously, she didn’t even know that she squirmed against him and sobbed. All she was

aware of was each curl of his tongue in her mouth, every scrape of his teeth on hers. Her body clenched, aching and empty. His thick, hot, wet tongue rolled into her. Oh God, she wanted him inside her. She ached to have him completely buried in her. Her fingers clutched the cloth at his shoulders.

I shouldn’t be doing this but ohmigod, he is so fine. Just once. Just
once, please let me have this.

His hand found the loose hem of her T-shirt and slid underneath to her bare back. Janney panted, undulating under his big, calloused palm slipping up to her bra. He wasn’t shy about the unfamiliar article. His fingers roamed over and under and around the snaps. The humor of it momentarily distracted her from playing with his tongue. A chuckle escaped.
Lord, I’m
losing my mind!
She felt it loosening. The devil had magically opened the hooks. Part of her reveled in his competence. It was like she’d never been seduced before. High school all over again, but with a man. A grown—real—masculine—experienced—

man.
Yes!

His fingers trailed the lower edge of her bra around to the front. He nudged it up. Yes, oh God, she wanted it. Wanted his big hand around her breast. The moment her breast popped free and his fingertips closed on her nipple, Janney’s moans turned to a sharp cry. It was like splashing cold water in her face. Fear crackled through her sexual frenzy. How easy it would be to get naked right here and now with the man. This stranger!

“No! Oh, no!” Janney frantically pushed him away. She already missed his heat and iron hard arms. “Stop…stop.” Torn between wanting him and what she thought was probably the right thing to do, she needed to get control back—over him—

and herself.

Pushing the sensual ache down, out of her mind, she cried,

“No, I can’t do this. I’ve sworn off men.” Why she added that last, she had no idea. Janney gasped much needed air into her lungs.

His eyes popped open, then became narrow slits. He was having trouble catching his breath. His heavy puffing pushed his chest against her sensitive breasts.

Janney’s stomach tightened and her lower body heated a notch higher knowing that she was doing this to him. Did she have this power?

“You like to do this with women?”

Her hands lay flat on his chest and she could feel his heart under her palm thudding rapidly. She could feel his chest rise and fall under the hard muscles. How long since she’d even been this close to a man? What in the world had he said now that she hadn’t heard? Something about…women? Then she saw the flash of his teeth. He was laughing at her.

“Of course not,” she said in a whisper.

“I didn’t think so,” he whispered, too, as he brushed his lips under her earlobe and down her neck to the hollow of her throat. His hands found their way under her shirt again, this time knowing exactly where they were going.

“Stop this, please. I can’t deal with this,” she whimpered, repeating herself. “I want to go to bed.”

“Yes?” He sounded hopeful.

“I mean get some sleep. Alone.” She jerked her way out of his arms and stumbled dizzily upright. It was dark. She was unfamiliar with the courtyard. Her head swiveled around in panic. Where was her room? Which one was it? Marek stood up behind her; she felt his hand firm and warm around her waist, as he steered her toward a dim light. At the door, she placed a hand on his chest to hold him off. “Good night, Marek.” Janney was proud of her composure; it had been hard won.

“Do you need anything?” The predatory gleam in his eyes belied his soft voice. He leaned over her and brushed the side of her face with his fingertips, drawing her chin up. “Wine? Me?”

“Oh, no,” she laughed, while stiffening the arm that held him off. The old ‘coffee, tea, or me’ offer. Only this was even older than that. “No, no, um…uh. No.” She dragged in a deep breath, happy that she was finally able to. “Would it interest you

to know that men are the same even after two thousand years?”

His fingers caressing her face and neck and lower to her chest were really driving her crazy. If he didn’t leave soon, she’d be lost. If he even so much as brushed her nipple again, she’d scream.

“I imagine men are always the same,” Marek purred, his gaze sending a ‘sleep with me’ message.

Geez, he actually purred.
She saw his teeth flash white in the darkness.
Oh, God.

“Tomorrow, Janney Forrester,” he said in that gravelly growl she was starting to love.

“Ho-lee sa-mokes!” she said as she slammed the door in his face and slumped against the wood.

She didn’t hear him mutter on the other side of the door.

“Women must not have changed much in two thousand years either.”

Mt. Olympus

“I know what you are trying to do, Venus mine,” Mars bellowed. “You had him years ago and you have always wanted him back.”

“Dearest Mars,” Venus murmured, “you reveled in his exploits all these long and bloodthirsty years, now it is my turn to see him soppy and starry-eyed again.” She reclined, stretching sinuously, on her chaise longue cloud. “Go find yourself another young warrior to play with and leave my Marek alone.”

The God of War relished the sight of the opulently voluptuous love of his life, but this was business. War business.

“He is not
your
Marek, my dear love.” As besotted as Mars was by the beautiful and lush Venus, he must not allow her to realize the extent of her power over him. “Anyway,” he continued gruffly, “why do you find him so fascinating? He is not anything special, not special enough for a Goddess. He is just a mortal. I, on the other hand, am your love, your promised one.” His voice rose to a thunderous boom. “I am your master!”

Mars watched as Venus, feigning disinterest, perused her long, sharp fingernails, holding her hand up against the sun. “My Marek,” she purred, apparently ignoring Mars’ bellicosity. “He was mine before he was yours. He is no longer happy.” Venus sat up, then dropped to her hands and knees, and crawled like a salacious cat toward a hapless Mars. “I like this young woman, this Janney Forrester. She will be good for my Marek.”

“They do not even speak the same language,” Mars complained.

“Poof! Nothing to it,” Venus crowed triumphantly. If I can circumvent the time barrier, then a difference in language is not a problem.

“Did you plan this, my love?” Even though he knew her tricks and suspected one here, he watched eagerly as her lovely, luscious body slithered toward him.

“No, of course not.” Venus did not sound convincing. “As a young man, he fell in love with the lovely Mellona. When he lost her, Marek went willingly with you back to war. But it is time now. He wants to love again. He needs to love again. Do not interfere, my lord. You have many more soldiers to guide.” The hand of Venus crawled over the hard-muscled thigh of the God of War.

“Well,” Mars rasped, reaching for the round, soft breasts displayed so temptingly by his Goddess of Love. “I suppose I could let you have Marek Benin,” his words died away, his senses addled. “For a short time anyway,” he added softly, temporizing as he moved over her and blew his God’s breath on a stray tendril of long, soft hair lying across her breast. Even the God of War could not resist the allure of Venus as his lips covered hers and he pushed her back on the couch.

Triumphantly, Venus relished the weight of her consort as he settled urgently, heavily over her body. But she would not allow the overbearing God of War to deter her. She was a Goddess, daughter of Jupiter, King of the Gods. Yes, Mars was also a child of Jupiter, but that just meant they were equals in the heavens. No member of the pantheon of the heavens was more

important than Venus, the Goddess of Love. Men may fight battles, may tear each other asunder, but even the strongest of mortal men became weak as kittens when faced with a woman.

A woman with her soft features. A woman with her body molded into curves and valleys made just for a man’s hands and lips. A woman with eyes to melt his fierce heart, lips to soothe or arouse him. A woman with sweet-smelling, silky hair to twine in his fingers. No doubt about it, a man is at the mercy of a woman when she chooses to take control.