Ancient Ties (27 page)

Somehow, the sounds from the doorway leading from the front entryway forced themselves into her consciousness. Marek had returned, and she watched as he searched the peristyle for her.

She felt the electric-like shock of the sensual attraction between them when he found her. He was going to leave her.

Janney shivered as if she had been doused with cold water.

She reminded herself that she was alone, even here in another century, not knowing if she would ever get back home, not one hundred percent sure she wanted to leave. While she and Marek had been alone together, everything seemed right and wonderful. Here, back in Aquae Sulis where it all began, she was frightened and uncertain.

“Gaius. Marek,” Augusta greeted the men.

Marek stopped in the archway to the peristyle. The moment their gazes locked, Janney knew she couldn’t let him go. There must be something she could do to keep him here.

Marek strode across the garden, skirting tables and the fountain to approach her. They both spoke at once.

“I missed you.” Janney couldn’t believe how needy that sounded.

“I’m not used to being without you.”

Had Marek really said that? Janney felt her face flushing with the acknowledgment of his desire. Was she really important to him? Important enough to stay?

“Come with me,” he ordered hoarsely, taking her arm, propelling her toward their bedroom, obviously one thing on his mind.

“Marek,” Augusta interrupted. “Guests will be arriving any minute, and you’re not ready.”

Augusta’s words galvanized Janney. She’d been melting under Marek’s force, his urging to get her to the bedroom. What had she just been fretting over all afternoon? “No!” Janney exclaimed. Digging in her heels, literally and figuratively, she pulled her arm from his hand. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

She’d told him about her father and about the desolation of his leaving. And dying.

Marek crowded her back into the doorway, pushing her against the smooth wood. He was different now, suddenly military in bearing, even more soldierlike than when they first met. Stiff, commanding. She didn’t like this Marek. He was going away from her, and Janney knew she had to protect herself from the hurt that would surely follow.

“People are arriving.” Augusta’s voice interrupted, and Janney’s heart jumped. God, she wasn’t ready for this. She’d always hated parties.

“Can I just stay in my room?” she asked Augusta.

“A lot of people know you are here with Marek and expect to meet you.” Janney knew she was being handled. Cajoled into attending, she decided she would slip away as soon as she could.

No one really knew her and wouldn’t miss her if she disappeared.

Marek towed her back to their room. Janney perched on the edge of a chair while Marek splash-bathed and changed quickly.

“I have something for you.” Marek presented her with a small, silk-wrapped package.

Janney just stared at it.

He picked up her hands and placed the package in them. “A gift. For you,” he nudged her again.

Frightened and confused, Janney couldn’t focus on the gift.

“Janney.” Marek pulled at the surrounding silk cloth. “Wear it for me.”

The material separated, and she held a gold necklace in her palms. Three delicate chains with a gold bead in the center.

“Marek, it’s beautiful.” Janney nervously licked her lips, then gazed up at him, her brows furrowed. “Why?”

“I love you, that’s why. I want you to wear it always.”

Oh, God! What if he doesn’t come back?

Marek took the jewelry out of her shaking fingers, gave her shoulder a little push, and stood behind her to settle the gold strands around her neck.

His voice clipped and commanding, he said, “If anyone asks where you’re from, tell them the West Country, then change the subject. And also, my fellow officers will be quite interested in you. No, don’t shake your head,” he admonished.

Janney couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying, just that he sounded different already. Like a commanding officer.

She wasn’t one of his soldiers and didn’t take orders.

“You’re a beautiful woman and new to them. Just tell them you’re with me.”

What a bizarre life. Pretend you’re an actor and this is some smart
Noel Coward production,
English country house meets Roman villa, and
escape as soon as possible.

In the peristyle, Janney began her performance starting in on a goblet of sweet wine. The drink went quickly to her head,

and she found it easy to smile and flirt. She felt her face muscles go soft and her eyes glaze over, blinking slightly in the flicker and snap of the many torches and oil lamps surrounding the peristyle. Strolling musicians hired for the evening, harpists and soft clinking cymbalists, performed just as at any party at any time in history. The sounds were so lovely.

A breeze ruffled her long gown; she pressed her fingers along its folds. Its length and style added to the surrealistic feeling of the evening. The last time she wore a long gown was her college prom. Oh, and at her girlfriend Judy’s wedding.

Even though she’d been wearing tunics for several weeks, it suddenly felt more like a nightgown.

Now, being introduced as a family friend visiting from the west of Britannia, she knew on the surface that she looked like a typical Roman woman. Her yellow curls were caught up in a narrow golden tiara lent to her by Augusta. Janney sipped, maybe a little too much, a little too fast. She surprised herself, harmlessly flirting with some men that Gaius had introduced to her. Two were nice but a third was quiet and gave her the creeps. He listened, but his dark eyes burned into her. He wasn’t into anything innocent, and she knew that it wouldn’t be wise to be left alone with him.

Where is Marek?
She surreptitiously searched the garden but didn’t spot him.

The two, Alroy Vitalis and Justyn Crescens, regaled her with funny stories about Marek. Good-natured secrets. They seemed to readily accept the fact that she and Marek were a couple. The third, Glaucus Tertius, was more sinister, and she felt hostility roll off him in waves. The hate was obviously directed at Marek. She wondered why. Janney excused herself needing some privacy, the wine having taken its toll.

When she left her room, Glaucus was leaning on the arch just outside the door. Half in the shadows, she could still see him, arms folded over his chest. He glared malevolently while scrutinizing her. His lips were pulled back over white teeth, but he wasn’t grinning nicely.

Alarmed that he’d followed her, she tried to sound casual.

“Hello. What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you. Janney’s an unusual name. West Country you say? I’m pretty familiar with the west. Where exactly are you from? Maybe I know it.”

Creepy. Very creepy.
Janney wished for more light. Her skin prickled with revulsion.

“Whew! That’s a lot of questions.” Stalling for time. “Isn’t everyone here from somewhere else? Where is your home?” She tried to switch the focus off her.

“Oh, I’m not from anywhere interesting, a small town you wouldn’t know. What part of the West Country?” He propped his forearm up against the archway, leaning in intimately over her.

“Iowa,” she blurted out. Janney figured the word wouldn’t mean anything to him anyway, and might get him off her back.

She tried to maneuver him out of the shadows and away from her door but wasn’t having any success.

Glaucus moved closer to her forcing Janney further into an alcove. “I-o-wa?” He separated the syllables. “That town doesn’t sound familiar.” Abruptly, he changed the subject, “How did you and Marek meet?”

“I’m here visiting,” she answered. That was true enough.

Without touching her, Glaucus had trapped her into a shadowy corner overhung with vines and sweet smelling flowers. The wine was quickly wearing off, Janney’s heart fluttered uneasily as she tried to think how to get around him without making a scene. There were a lot of people near enough, but no one could see them right now.

“Isn’t it just like Marek Verus to attract the beautiful, interesting women? You know, of course, that he has a wife back in Rome. I, on the other hand, am not married.”

Janney forced herself to breathe evenly and calmly crossed her arms in front of her, partly for protection and partly to keep her hands from shaking. Finally, she decided that enough was enough. Looking directly into his eyes—he wouldn’t be a bad

looking man if he weren’t so evil—she flashed what she hoped was a don’t-mess-with-me look. That gave her courage and in a more forceful voice, she replied coldly, “Thank you for that information. Now, please excuse me.” She attempted to slip by him without touching his body. Glaucus gripped her wrist and pulled it toward his middle. Before Janney could react, he spun completely around and doubled over, collapsing to the ground.

Everything happened so fast.

Marek gripped her arm above the elbow and pulled Janney around behind him.

“Marek!” she gasped. “Thank God, you’re…” He didn’t look at her.

Glaucus had gone down on one knee. He struggled for breath but before he could rise, Marek, with fists clenched and legs spread, loomed over him.

“Stay away from her,” Marek growled.

Face pale and sweaty, Glaucus pushed up to his feet holding a fist to his stomach. “This is not over.”

“Yes, it is. Get out.” Marek’s voice was a low, warning snarl. Calm. Possessive.

Calm sounding. However, Janney knew, without a doubt, that Marek was furious. The muscles in the arm he slipped around her waist were hard. Even his skin, hot as his anger, seemed to burn through both layers of their clothes. Janney had never seen this side of him. She knew he was a warrior, but this violence seemed different to her. She tried to pull away from this hard, punishing stranger but was swept back into their bedroom before she could protest.

“What were you doing alone with him? I warned you,”

growled Marek. The heavy door slammed resoundingly shut.

Shocked that he was angry with her, Janney tried to angle her body away from him but he kept her plastered to his side.

“Do not talk to me like this. I didn’t lure him off, he followed me.”
Damn him. What right does he have to act like a caveman?

She was disgusted with him. So violently possessive. Janney shuddered, aroused with the heated excitement. Now she was disgusted with herself. She’d never been on the receiving end of such domineering, overbearing arrogance, and it shouldn’t turn her on like this. Marek was a soldier. By necessity, a killer.

Finally wrenching herself out of his grip, knowing it was only because he’d let her go, she escaped to stare out the window, blinded by tears.

Marek’s presence filled the room. She turned. His chest heaved unevenly in and out, his jaw clenched, lips jammed into a straight line. His eyes, those chocolate-fudge eyes, not tender and warm now. Hot. Hot with anger. His face flushed with jealousy.

Ohmigod, he’s jealous!

The sounds of the reception, people laughing and talking, and growingly familiar, syncopated music filtered in. Distracted her. Janney blinked. Marek was still breathing heavily, his nostrils flaring; she could see a muscle in his cheek flexing. She desperately needed to get away from him. Needed to start to separate herself for her own protection. Oh, he wouldn’t hurt her physically but she was afraid that it was already too late not to be hurt emotionally.

He crossed the room in quick steps and pulled her roughly into his arms. His breath rasped harshly as if he’d run miles.

Could he be as frightened as she was?

“God, Marek, what are we going to do? I can’t handle this anymore. You don’t know how afraid I am.” So much for severing their relationship. In his arms, the warmth of his broad chest against her cheek, his hands pressing her body tightly into his own, Janney was safe. “Is this real?” she whispered.

“It’s real to me, Janney.” Marek’s voice sounded rusty.

“What I feel for you is real.”

“Oh, God,” Janney moaned, “a man who talks about his feelings,” her voice bitter and sarcastic. “I just had to go back two thousand years to find you.” Janney slumped weakly against him.

Fear and anguish leeched her energy. She swayed in his arms, fingers grabbing his tunic, her breath coming in hoarse gasps.

Marek held her; one hand curved around her head, holding it against his heart, the beat thundering under her ear. He was so hot, his skin sending out scents of wine and sweat, and musk. His hard body surrounded her with protection and comfort.

“What are you afraid of? That you won’t go back home?”

Pushing back, she looked up at him, her own face crumpling, and cried, “Don’t you understand? I’m afraid of both.

Of not getting home and of leaving you. I can’t live here, and I can’t leave you. I don’t have the choice. It’ll be made for me, and I won’t even know when. One minute I may see you and the next…” She broke down.

He tightened his arms around her. “Janney,” his voice raspy.

“Do you want to go back to your world?”

His big body trembled. His heart thumped madly. Her tears wet his tunic. Janney knew what Marek wanted her to say. “Not without you.” The whispered words barely escaped her mouth, but he had to have heard. She felt his embrace tighten even more around her.

“Because if you do, I’ll take you to the door myself. I will order it to open for you.” His body stiffened.

It was as if time stopped. She looked up at him. Nothing outside of the two of them existed at that moment. Janney heard no music, no babble of voices. “You’d go with me?” She held her breath.

“I cannot leave.”

It chilled Janney’s blood. He wouldn’t leave. Why should he? This was his life.

“I have my duty. I will not stand for the last sight my men have of me to be one of weakness and collapse.” His face was hard. There was no other way to describe it. Eyes inflexible, jaw and chin stiff, lips a fierce, straight line.