Virginia Henley (15 page)

Now it was the turn of the ten centurion officers and the two cohort centurions to duplicate the feat of the Primus Pilus. It took them twice as long, with many false starts, but with encouragements and dogged determination, half the leaders made it across. Six of them had to be dragged out and would have to attempt it again once they had rested.

Now it was the soldiers’ turn to attempt the crossing and not all of them could swim. Fortunately Marcus had his
own permanent legionaries to aid the newcomers. They had passed their leader’s swimming tests before he had accepted them at the permanent base of Aquae Sulis.

Diana watched Petrius drag himself from the water and stalk toward his brother. He looked just as dangerous as he had last night.

“Freezing my nuts off in cold water is not my idea of training soldiers.” He spat a mouthful of river water at his brother’s feet.

Marcus looked him directly in the eye. “Your nuts will be the size of peas when you ford the icy rivers awaiting you in the western wilds. If you want your men to survive, you had better make sure they learn their lesson well today.”

Petrius followed his brother’s gaze to where Diana stood above them, her long golden hair blowing in the breeze. His loins clenched painfully. “How much do you want for her?” he asked.

“She isn’t for sale,” Marcus said evenly.

Petrius grinned at last. “Too bad. She won’t get much fucking from you tonight, brother. The legionaries want another demonstration from you of how the standard bearers get their gear across.”

At a signal from Marcus, Kell said to Diana, “He wants us to leave now.”

“I’m glad I came to watch him!”

Kell knew she played some kind of game with the Roman, one that hid what she really thought and really felt about him. He did the same himself. But Kell knew Diana was coming to genuinely admire Marcus. She accepted his protection and she craved his admiration whether she was aware of it or not.

It would be most diverting to watch the relationship unfold beneath his very nose. Would the balance of power shift? In a subtle way, perhaps it already had. Should he
foster their relationship or jeopardize it? He smiled to himself. Kell would do whatever was best for Kell!

When they returned to the villa, Diana was surprised at how lovely and warm it was inside on such an inclement day. When she removed her woolen mantle, she was quite comfortable in a silk stola with nothing beneath it. “Kell, how is the villa heated?”

“We have raised floors with ventilation. Heat comes from hot water pipes laid beneath each and every floor. You may go barefoot inside in the dead of winter and still be comfortable. Romans like their comfort.”

Diana marveled that such an ancient civilization could be so advanced. Georgian houses were damp and drafty places in winter, depending on heat from a small fire in every room.

She knew it wouldn’t be too many hours before Marcus arrived home. A bubble of excitement inside her was growing. She wanted to see how her new wardrobe was progressing and also she would have to have Sylla redo her hair because the wind had turned it into a wild tangle.

The merchants had departed from the solarium, but the cloth merchant had left his female assistants to make up the new garments and Nola had set two household slaves to help with the sewing. Diana was delighted with the numerous stolae in different colors and fabrics.

“Thank you, Nola, they are exquisite. I thank all of you for your hard work and generosity.” She took an armful of gowns, including the ultramarine, the tigress print, and the classical white silk up to her own chamber, where Sylla showed her how to fold them in a special way that would prevent creasing.

Diana decided she would wear the white silk tonight for Marcus. As she sat before the mirror watching Sylla thread seed pearls onto strands of her golden hair, her excitement grew at the thought of being alone with her Roman tonight. She had never felt this way over Peter Hardwick, and that told her how attracted she was becoming to
Marcus Magnus. In fact, she realized that she was infatuated with him.

When she pictured him swimming across the raging river and then imagined those powerful arms about her, she could have screamed with excitement. She smiled to herself. She would be willing to bet the general would make sure they had no unexpected guests this evening.

When Kell tapped on her chamber door and came in with more new garments, Diana was disappointed to learn that Marcus had already arrived. “Oh, I wanted to be in the atrium to greet him when he arrived home!”

“He needed a hot bath immediately to unthaw his bones.” Kell lifted one of the garments he had brought up. “The general has requested you wear the short white tunic to dinner.”

Diana was amazed at how much it resembled the costume she had worn to the opening of the Pantheon. It came only to the thighs, its hem falling in points and its fastening on one shoulder. “Oh, I’m afraid this has been made wrong. I won’t be able to wear it tonight.” She felt somewhat disappointed, for the tunic would have made her resemble the goddess Diana.

“It has been especially designed this way,” Kell informed her.

“The bodice will only cover one breast,” Diana pointed out.

Kell nodded. “This is one of the tunics the general especially requested and he asks that you wear it to dinner tonight.”

Diana was stunned that he would ask such a thing. How could he possibly expect her to join him for dinner wearing a tunic that displayed one bare breast? Everyone in the household would be able to look their fill at her nakedness. Her bubble of excitement evaporated and was replaced by a tight little knot of anger.

He was treating her like a prostitute! Was he doing it on purpose to insult her, or was his lust so great that he
desired her to sit almost naked before him? If she reclined on a couch in a tunic that barely covered her thighs and left one breast fully exposed, she could guess how long it would be before his hands were all over her body!

Diana put the garment on the bed and said firmly, “I shall wear the elegant white silk stola. Would you be kind enough to wait outside until I am dressed, Kell?”

Kell’s gray eyes held hers for a moment. “I have agreed to advise you, lady, and I do so now. Wear the garment the general has selected.”

“I thank you for your advice, Kell. I will explain to him myself why I cannot wear such a garment.”

Kell deferred to her decision and stepped outside of the apricot chamber, waiting to escort her to the triclinium. When she was dressed, Diana carefully examined her appearance in the polished bronze mirror. The white silk fell in a graceful straight line over her slim figure. Her upthrust breasts clearly showed the outline of her diamond-hard nipples through the delicate material. The seed pearls in her silver-gilt hair emphasized her delicacy tonight. She chose a gold wrist bracelet and matching gold anklet and decided to go barefoot tonight so she might display a pretty toe ring.

Diana placed her hand on Kell’s arm and walked down the stairs with her head held high. She was confident that she looked exceptionally lovely.

Once again, Marcus had reached the triclinium before her. Household slaves were busy carrying in serving dishes. On Kell’s arm she paused dramatically between the two pillars and awaited Marcus’ response.

It wasn’t long in coming. His dark face was unsmiling. His black eyes swept over her coldly. “You are not wearing the gown I requested.”

Diana took a step forward. “Marcus, I refuse to wear such a scandalous garment!”

The slaves stopped what they were doing to stare at her.

Marcus strode toward her purposefully. “Refuse? I
don’t believe I heard you correctly.” His tone was harsh, forbidding.

Diana swallowed hard and lifted her chin. Foremost in her mind was her promise to obey his orders implicitly before others. If she violated their agreement, he was free to do the same. In fact, by the look of him he would welcome the excuse to do so, even relish it!

When he spoke again, it was as the all-powerful Roman. “You will return to your chamber and change. When you return, you will fulfill your sole purpose in life: giving me pleasure!”

Diana’s lashes swept to her cheeks. Her fingers dug into Kell’s arm in frustrated fury. If she lost her temper and berated the Roman before his slaves, she would lose what little power she had gained. She knew she had little choice but do exactly as he commanded.

With quiet dignity she turned and left the room. She was grateful that Kell did not remind her that she should have taken his advice. Sylla awaited her with the brief tunic ready. She had known Diana would be sent back. The general never allowed disobedience.

Diana decided she would have to overcome her shyness. Modesty was not allowed in a Roman household. She had no choice but to be obedient in front of the other slaves, but once she and Marcus were private she would give him a piece of her mind and show him just how outraged she felt at being forced to display her nudity before others.

Diana removed the lovely white silk and allowed Sylla to slip the tunic over her head. It, too, was white, but the material was more diaphanous, allowing the color of her flesh to show through. As Sylla fastened it on one shoulder with a huge ruby brooch, Diana stared at her reflection in amazement. She had never even imagined herself in a garment that concealed one breast while totally revealing the
other. It was a most erotic garment. Nay, it was more, it was decadent.

She felt her cheeks become warm and saw the blush that suffused them in the mirror. Well, she might as well get ail her blushes over with, for in a moment Kell would see her, then Marcus and the slaves who served tonight would be able to observe her at leisure all through the evening meal.

Sylla handed her a pair of sandals with long, golden ribbons. Diana removed the toe ring, the golden anklet and bracelet, then crisscrossed the ribbons up her bare legs. Finally, she selected a pair of gold and ruby amulets. When she clasped them about her upper arms, she felt decidedly un-Christian. She felt and looked like a Sybarite. Before Diana left her chamber, she dipped a towel into a bowl of rose water, then held it to her burning cheeks to cool them.

Once more Kell escorted her to the triclinium, his hooded gray eyes concealing his thoughts completely. This time Diana held her head even higher. Marcus Magnus behaved as if this were the first time she had come down to dine. His face was no longer grim, his voice had lost its icy tone.

“Greetings, my lady. It is a pleasure to be home at last.”

“Greetings,” she murmured, without using his name or lifting her lashes from her rosy cheeks.

Diana circled away from him and sought her couch immediately. She sat down, lifted her legs to the couch, then carefully arranged the hem of the tunic so that it completely covered her thighs, for she wore no undergarment beneath its diaphanous skirt. She did not tuck the small gold cushion beneath her elbow because she did not wish to recline. She noticed that the couch had been completely recovered and new gold cushions set out to replace the ones that Petrius had soiled.

Two male slaves served them tonight. Because of the tremendous energy Marcus had expended during his rigorous
day, his appetite was enormous. Tonight there was a whole turbot with fennel sauce, followed by a steaming venison pie, and an assortment of roast partridge and peacock.

Tonight they drank calda made from mixing wine, spices, and hot water. It was the same recipe as hippocras and Diana thought fleetingly of Peter Hardwick. He would have been the first man to make love to her if she had not gone back in time. She shuddered at the very thought. In one way she had had a lucky escape. She glanced across at Marcus and realized that in spite of the gulf that separated them in attitude, in thought, word, and deed, there was no other man she would rather have make love to her.

“Did you enjoy the demonstration at the river today?”

“May I please tell you when we are private?” she begged softly.

“Of course you may.” He wanted her to say his name. It gave him untold pleasure to hear it on her lips. He wished she would entertain him with conversation while they dined. He had thoroughly enjoyed last evening until Petrius had ruined it.

“You were asleep when I came to my chamber last night. Did I disturb you?”

“May I please tell you when we are private?” she again begged softly.

His dark brows drew together. She was deliberately trying to annoy him. “No, damn you, you may not. You will answer whatever questions I put to you.”

“May I have permission to answer your questions truthfully?”

Marcus knew this was some devious female trick. His black eyes narrowed. “You may answer my questions any way you like, so long as your reply gives me pleasure.”

Diana bit her lip. He knew they were playing a cat-and-mouse game.

“We shall begin again. Did you enjoy the demonstration at the river today?”

“I enjoyed it above all things, master.”

Marcus grit his teeth at her subservience. “Did I disturb you last night?”

“Your nearness always disturbs me, master.”

His patience snapped. “Leave us,” he bade the serving slaves. “Close the door behind you.”

He did not speak until they were alone. “Once more…” His tone warned her that he was at the end of his tether with her. “Did you enjoy the demonstration at the river today?”

Diana tucked the gold pillow beneath her elbow and reclined provocatively. She cast him a sideways glance and replied outrageously, “I did enjoy it, but not nearly as much as you did, Marcus. You were showing off to the legionaries, and especially to the cohort centurions. Poor Petrius, he doesn’t stand a snowball’s chance in Hades of measuring up to you.”

“Mea culpa,”
he said, grinning like a boy. His eyes licked over her. “Have you any idea how breathstopping you look tonight?”

“For a slave, you mean?” she asked sweetly.

“You don’t look like a slave! You look like a goddess. I had the tunic made exactly like the one Diana of the Grove wears. All you need is an arrow in your hand.”

“I expect you will soon rectify that,” she murmured suggestively.

Marcus threw back his head and his laughter came rolling out. “You are delightful.”

“My only wish is to please you.” Her words dripped with sarcasm.

“If that is true, come and recline on my couch so we may share the same plate, the same goblet.”

Diana’s pulses quickened. If he got her on his couch, all food would be forgotten and she would become the main course. She must give him an answer that would buy her some time.

“You promised to woo me before I must yield to you.”

“How better to woo you than on my couch?”

“If I was not wearing a garment that bared one breast, I would not object to sharing your couch. Perhaps tomorrow evening?” she offered.

“Tomorrow. Swear it!” he commanded, not trusting her.

“I promise, Marcus,” she said softly.

His black eyes glittered as a diabolical idea came to him. He would take full advantage of her vow. “Would you like me to ask Nola to serve us tomorrow, instead of the male slaves?”

“Yes, that would preserve a small shred of my modesty. Thank you.”

“Your modesty is misplaced, Diana. You have the loveliest female form I have ever seen.”

“I thank you for your compliment, Marcus, but can’t you understand that I have no wish to display my body?”

“That is ridiculous. When a woman has beauty, it should be displayed. It is the only thing of value a female possesses.” His dark eyes caressed her, adding emphasis to his words.

“You are wrong! Beauty is only a small part of a woman!”

“No, it is everything. Beauty is all I, or any other man, want in a woman; beauty and obedience, of course.”

“That is blind arrogance—a totally dominant male concept!” Diana tossed her hair back impatiently as she spoke with passion. Marcus couldn’t take his eyes from her. Anger certainly increased Diana’s beauty tonight. “What else is there?” he asked bluntly.

“A woman’s intelligence, of course, and her strength of character. What about her sense of humor? Humor is at least as important as beauty. A woman should be appreciated for all her attributes. Any slave can give you obedience, Roman!”

“We Romans did not invent slavery, Diana. The Celtic
tribes of Britannia have traded slaves with Rome for years.”

“That doesn’t make it right. Slavery is wrong. It has always been wrong.”

“The economy depends on slaves. Slavery will always be with us. You must accept it.”

“No, Marcus, you are quite wrong. Slavery will be abolished, thank God.”

“I have no intention of debating the merits of slavery. You are here to entertain me. It is your exceptional beauty that interests me, not your intelligence.”

“That is too bad. I had planned to entertain you with my intelligence tonight, not my beauty.”

“That would be impossible.”

“What a challenge you are, Marcus Magnus.”

He grinned at her. “We shall go upstairs now and continue our game,” he said decisively.

“Is that an order or an invitation?”

His grin widened. “Since there is no one to overhear us, it is an invitation.”

“I am happy that you play by the rules.”

“The beauty of being in command is that I can change the rules at any time.” He came over to her couch and towered above her. His nearness made her pulsebeat erratic.

“It would give me pleasure to carry you up.” Before she could protest, she found herself lifted in his arms. Her bare breast was pressed against his wide chest. The raw linen of his tunic brushed against her nipple, making it instantly erect. Her naked thighs rested on his great muscular forearm and the heat of his body seeped into her, almost melting her bones.

As Marcus climbed the stairs, she felt his marble-hard phallus brush against the bare cheeks of her bottom. Desire spiraled from her buttocks to her woman’s center and beyond into her belly. Every step he climbed increased the intensity of the feeling. She clung to him, feeling his muscles ripple beneath her hands. All the sensations she felt
were highly charged and deeply sexual. She was beginning to discover that arousal was a most pleasurable activity.

He carried her into his sleeping chamber and kicked the door closed with his foot The desire to yield herself to him was almost overwhelming. She wanted him to cover her mouth with his so that she could taste him. But instead of kissing her, he carried her to his big silver mirror, so she could see what she looked like in his arms.

Their reflection was overtly sensual. He held her legs high so that she could see the golden tendrils covering the pink center between her thighs, and there, just below, was the bulge of his manhood, erect and straining toward its goal. He lowered her body slightly so they brushed against each other.

When she drew in a quick breath, he smiled knowingly. He let her body slide down his until her feet touched the carpet, but he did it with her facing the mirror. Diana couldn’t believe the disparity in the size of their bodies when he was standing this close behind her. Their coloring, too, was a startling contrast; hers so fair, his so dark and swarthy.

She watched, mesmerized, as his powerful hand cupped her bare breast and his calloused thumb toyed with her nipple. Threads of molten fire ran from the tip of her captured breast and plunged downward into her belly, then moved even lower. Marcus pulled her back against him so that she could feel the hard length of his shaft against her bare buttocks. She gasped and slipped her hand between their bodies where they touched, but he pressed her even closer so that her hand was now trapped, with her fingers curving about his swollen manroot. As his thumb teased her nipple, she felt him grow longer and harder in her hand.

Then with his other hand, he lifted the short tunic so she could watch him trace her high mound of Venus and let his fingers thread through her pubic curls. Diana was gasping with the things he was doing to her and the sensations his powerful fingers aroused. Her free hand covered his, in
an effort to make him take it from her woman’s center, but her small hand was totally ineffective and fell away of its own volition as he searched her cleft with a calloused fingertip until he found the sensitive bud within.

Then Marcus moved his finger in a slow, circular motion, until she moaned with pure pleasure. As Diana watched herself writhe beneath his fingers, she became so aroused she wanted to scream from excitement. She began to pant and felt his phallus buck and pulse beneath her hand.

He began to squeeze her bare breast with a slow, rhythmic motion that matched the rhythm of his encircling fingertip. She wanted to beg him to go faster, but the words stuck in her throat so that she could only moan her pleasure. Sensations were coming in waves now, setting up pulsations that were intensifying. With a female knowledge as old as Eve’s, she realized that if he quickened his finger, her pleasure would soon be over. Moving in slow, steady, rhythmic circles made the pleasure go on, and on, and on.

She arched back against him and her head began to thrash about against his wide chest. When her climax came, it was so hard and fast, she cried out and thrust into his hand wildly. He cupped her firmly, intensifying the sensual pleasure each pulsating contraction brought her. Then he lifted her back into his arms so he could possess her trembling mouth.