The Patrician (19 page)

The door closed with a soft thud behind the couple. Jared glanced at Bryna who sat looking up at him, the scant light flickering in the depths of her leaf colored eyes. “I did not understand all his words,” she said, rising from the floor.

“He has brought clothes for us. There is a pond nearby for us to bathe,” he answered, his gaze lingering on her lithe figure. She seemed small and vulnerable standing there in the flickering light, almost innocent like a child. But the impression evaporated when she raised her hands to comb fingers through her hair, her breasts thrusting against the coarse material of her shift afforded him a delectable view of the cleft between them. With a twist, she bent down to swipe loose straw from her ankle and he noted again the smooth curve of her hips. Blood heated near to boiling, he almost combusted into flames when she ran her tongue over those lush, full lips that begged to be kissed.

Gods, he must be losing his mind. There was no way he would touch her in that manner, not even if he went a thousand years without a woman—and it already felt like nine hundred. With his luck running the way it had been, he’d end up a eunuch.

Stalking to the door, he turned to find her standing with feet firmly planted, arms crossed. He was coming to recognize that obstinate turn to her lower lip. His black mood only stretched his patience thinner. “What ails you? I said we need to bathe. Do you not understand
my
words?”

She drew her shoulders back, leveled him with a glare. “I understand perfectly. You still think you can order me about. We are no longer bound together. I can do as I please.”

He covered the distance between them in three long strides, until he was toe to toe with her. She maintained her stance even though she had to bend her head back to look at him.

She did not retreat but met his gaze boldly, her lips pressed together in a stubborn line. Gods, those lips looked so soft, so delicious. He wanted to taste them. With considerable effort he fought the urge to crush them with his own. “Circumstances keep us bound closer than any links of iron, my little barbarian,” he growled.

“I am no longer a slave,” she replied, her voice soft and lilting in her odd little accent. “You cannot make me to do as you say,
Jew
.”

He smiled tightly at her attempt to insult him. “I have a name. It is Jared. A fine
Jewish
name. You will use it.” She went rigid as he brushed a wisp of golden red hair away from her cheek, marveled at how smooth it felt. “This hair of yours and your unique pronunciation of Latin causes you to stand out. It makes you different.” He caught and held her gaze. “That and your annoying habit of arguing at every turn. Alone, you’d be captured by the slave hunters in the span of a heartbeat.”

Striding to the door, he faced her and waited.

Bryna glowered at him, furious to the point that a deep red flush covered her neck. A myriad of emotions danced across her face, rebellion and stubbornness finally succumbing to reason. With a low growl of frustration, she swept past him into the dark. He released a sigh as he followed, wondering if he hadn’t lost all sense in keeping the little hellion in his company.

The deep, oval pool was just as Phoebus promised, its perimeter marked with tufted stands of grass. A deer popped its head up from slaking its thirst and leapt away at their approach, its white tail visible as it disappeared across the meadow.

Tossing the bundle at the foot of a fir tree, he stripped off his tattered tunic. A startled gasp from Bryna brought him around. She simply stood there, stock still, staring at him.

“What’s the matter now?” he asked.

She turned away quickly. “Nothing,” she said “I just thought there would be more privacy.”

Jared sighed. The fatigue and strain of the past few days was threatening to crash in on him. He did not have time for ill-placed shyness. “Go to the other side of those rushes, if you are so meek.” She did not argue but hurried to the other side of the pond. He watched until she stepped behind a stand of tall grass where she too would undress. The thought of her naked, of those breasts he’d been teased with in full view, sent a wave of heat rolling through him. Gods, he was in a bad way. Pushing the tempting images aside, he eased down into the cool depths of the pool.

The water stung his wounded thigh, but brought welcome relief to his tired muscles and bruised flesh and his lust. Digging his feet into the thick mud of the bottom, he stretched his arms out and dove beneath the water. He swam the width of the pool, breaking the surface, flinging water from his hair and wiping it from his eyes.

He laid on his back and floated, gazed up at the night sky. A plethora of stars sparkled like jewels and a familiar pang of longing stirred in his heart. He closed his eyes. The image of his mother’s face had dulled with the passing of the years, but he could still hear with amazing clarity, her declaration of love—
More than the stars in the heavens.

He glanced over to the grass. Bryna had lost someone too, this brother she believed still lived. Denial would be a poor defense when the harsh reality became known. He almost wished he’d be there to soften the blow.

Jared frowned. She was taking a long time to return. Was she that shy? His temper simmered. He did not have patience for her games. Just as he started for the shore, she emerged from the thick stand of rushes and his mouth went dry.

There was no wool cloth to tease his imagination. The moonlight seemed to focus all its light on her slim, pale body—the firm, round curves of her buttocks, the perfect globes of her breasts, her dark nipples. Even in the cold of the pond, his cock twitched when she stretched her arms above her head. Gods, why did she have to do that?

Jared glided beneath an overhang of branches, watched from its cover as she scanned the pond, dipped a tentative toe in the water. The look on her face told him she thought the water too cold. In his opinion it was not cold enough, doing nothing to quell the heat pooling in his groin.

With one smooth motion Bryna slipped into the water. She ducked beneath the surface and stayed submerged so long that he started to move toward the spot where she had disappeared.  But before he got far, she sprang up like a nymph from a Greek myth, massaging her cropped hair then dunking again to cleanse the dirt from her scalp. She was beautiful and the desire to hold her unbearable, a desire he would never act on not even if a thousand years passed. Bryna washed her face, ran her tongue along the edge of her lips.

A thousand years was a long time.

***

Bryna kept her eyes averted from Jared’s hard muscled body as he splashed across the pond. Still, she managed a quick peek, admired his rock hard silhouette as he hoisted himself onto the bank. The raw masculinity of the man was overwhelming, much more potent in the flesh than the specter in her vision. The memory of what her desires had led her to do in her dream brought a heated flush to her cheeks.

But she absolutely would not let him intimidate her. She was the daughter of a chieftain, had survived far worse as a slave. She should be able to handle one bad tempered man.

Swimming to the opposite side of the pond, she left the water, teeth chattering as the night’s light breezes skimmed her wet skin. She hurried toward the spot where she had left her shift, rubbing at the chill bumps covering her arms as she searched for the garment. It was gone.

“Surely you did not expect to dress in those rags?”

Bryna jumped, spun around toward the voice.

Jared moved from the shadow into the full moonlight. Her breath caught in her throat. Wet, black hair curled around his neck, dressed only in a linen loincloth, gold eyes glittering like a predator looking for his next victim, he was all strength and power. And she was naked. With a small yelp, she sought refuge behind the narrow trunk of a tree.

“Go away!” she croaked. Gods, could she sound any more nervous? He turned in her direction. She shivered again, though the wind had nothing to do with it.

“Why are you hiding?” he asked, moving in her direction. His voice was deeper, husky. “For your sake, I hope you’re not planning on running away.”

“Stop where you are!” she shouted, surprised when he did. She did not trust him. Worse, she did not trust herself or her traitorous body. “My decisions are my own now. You have no part in them.”

Jared gave a short disbelieving laugh. “Believe what you will. But we will not part ways until I get what I want—my betrayers in my hands.” 

Bryna peeked around the tree just as he took another step in her direction. If only she could tell him what he wanted to know. Then every nerve wouldn’t be on fire. “Don’t come any closer.”

“Bryna,” he said, his tone clear with warning.

She groaned inwardly. “I am not clothed.”

A long moment of silence preceded his amused response. “This I know. Why does that matter?”

She nearly choked on her indignation.

When he spoke again, it sounded as though he was just on the opposite side of the tree. “I’ve always heard that garments are considered an inconvenience by most barbarians, even to the point of going into battle clothed in nothing more than blue dye to protect them from mortal blows. So again, I ask—why does it matter?”

She leaned her head against the tree, released an exasperated breath. “Because I am no longer a slave and I will not be put on display.”

Silence. Cautiously, she peered around the trunk of the tree, watched him drape a shift over a nearby rock before moving back into the foliage. “I cannot argue that.”

Astonished at his kindness, she wasted no time. She sprinted from behind the tree, snatched the dress up and hurried back to the cover of the rushes.

When Jared entered the clearing again, he was wearing a dark colored tunic. A leather belt cinched the material in at his narrow waist. He had pulled his hair, still damp from washing, away from his face. Fighting the urge to run, she remained rigidly in place, keeping a wary eye on him as he stopped next to her. He seemed taller, more powerful more confident.

More dangerous.

He swept her with an appraising eye, bringing another blush to her cheeks with his intent gaze. Nodding as if in approval, he smiled. Darkly handsome before, he was devastating when he smiled.

He reached back and tied his hair into a queue. “The dress fits well enough, but,” One side of his mouth lifted. “I think the moonlight fits you better.”

Heat rushed up Bryna’s neck but a deeper warmth fluttered in her stomach. He was so infuriating, yet she felt drawn to him which set her off balance and she did not like it.

Caught in her thoughts, she did not notice that Jared had stepped closer until his thigh brushed against hers. Pride would not allow her to step away, but she thought her heart would thump out of her chest when he cupped the back of her head with one large hand. Anxiety filled her to her core, her instinct was to fight, She’d only ever been touched with violence since her enslavement. Jared’s hold, while firm, was also gentle. She gazed up into his eyes, gone burnished gold with desire. She released a breath. He was going to kiss her.

He gave her that crooked smile as if he read her thoughts and dipped his head, slanting his mouth across hers. Her pride would say shock kept her from resisting but that would be a lie.

His lips were warm, full and firm. A small moan escaped her when he nipped at the corners before taking possession of her mouth. Gods, how could a man taste so good? Bryna parted her lips, gasped as he thrust his tongue inside, going deeper.

Eyes closed, she slid her hand up his bare arm, thrilled at the strength she felt beneath his skin. A spark of pleasure swept through her at his groan when she timidly met the bold strokes of his tongue with her own. Bryna could have stayed in this moment forever but too soon, Jared pulled away. He rubbed his thumb over the sensitive skin behind her ear and gave her a strange look.

When her eyes could focus again, Bryna jutted her chin out and said, “Don’t ever do that again.”

Jared’s voice was rough. “Have no fear. I’ve no desire to become a eunuch.”

Puzzled by his response, she did not protest as he laced his fingers with hers. “Come, witch. The good farmer has promised us food.”

The food may well fill her belly, but another type of hunger gnawed at her. A hunger for this man. Gods. She snatched her hand away. “I have a name too.”

His expression sobered and he stared at her intently. “So you have,” he said, taking her hand again. “Come, Bryna.”

***

Phoebus’ house was small, but well kept. It had a hard packed dirt floor covered with a woven mat that prevented dust from settling on the simple furnishings. A pallet stuffed with wool lay against one wall, providing a fine bed for the farmer and his wife. A smaller mattress was placed near the foot for their young son and baby daughter. Both were covered with blankets embroidered with dark blue geometric designs.

Bryna sat beside Jared on the opposite side of a small brazier lit to ward off the chill of the night. The bowl in her hand was now empty, wiped clean by the piece of bread she had used to eat the stew. It was simple fare, but to her the rich meat broth thick with vegetables and bits of rabbit had seemed like a feast.

The baby in Sybyl’s lap gurgled and laughed reaching for Jared’s bowl. Bryna watched his gaze soften when a chubby finger clamped around his finger. He shook the baby’s hand, eliciting a giggle before he gently pulled away.

He avoided her gaze and took the empty bowl from her, set them aside “We thank you for the food and for the clothes,” he told the couple. “We were sorely in need of both.”
“No doubt,” replied Phoebus, stretching his legs out and pulling his son, Tulio onto his lap. “How many days since your escape?”

“Seven,” Jared lied, slanting her a warning look.

Phoebus did not seem to notice. “A good start. But,” He paused, his brows knitting into a frown. “It is very unusual for a male and female slave to be chained together.”

“Our master was very cruel. He was intent on selling...” Jared quirked an eyebrow in her direction. “. . .my woman and I at auction. We could not bear the idea of being separated. On the way to the marketplace, we escaped.”