The Protector (15 page)

Long before he reached the office, he heard Drusus’s high-pitched complaints. “Who does he think he is to make me wait? He’s nothing but a worthless
lanista!
How dare he—”

“How dare I what?” Caros asked from the doorway, his tone flinty calm.

Drusus ceased his ranting and stopped cold in the center of the room. He colored as though he’d swallowed his tongue. “I—”

Ignoring Otho’s struggle not to laugh, Caros took the master’s chair behind the desk. “Have a seat, Drusus.”

Drusus did as he was told, although he was clearly irate to be displaced in his own office. “This is an outrage! What have I done that Adiona sends her lapdog to chastise me?”

Caros arched his brow and almost laughed when Drusus shrank back in his chair. “You’re suspected of attempted murder, Drusus. Adiona’s murder. Understandably, she’s none too pleased with you. And neither am I.”

Drusus swallowed hard. “I told Adiona
and
her minions, I’m innocent!”

“Yes, well, no one expects you to shout your guilt in the Forum, do they?”

“You suggest I’m
lying?
”

Caros shrugged eloquently. “I
suggest
you prove to me you’re telling the truth. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to call in the magistrate and let him decide the case.”

Drusus paled. Torture was legal and its brutality was expected in judicial matters. He slid down in his chair, a petulant expression creasing his fleshy face. “You’re already set against me. How can I prove something when you refuse to listen?”

“For a start, why don’t you tell me your side of the matter,” Caros said. “Go ahead and even up the balance. At the moment, the adder found in Adiona’s bed has the scale heavily weighed against you.”

The mention of his snake brought Drusus flying from his chair. “I didn’t put my pet in her room! And I want to know who’s going to compensate me for my loss? It was your man who murdered her.
You
should—”

“Cease, Drusus! Let the matter go. It’s over.”

Round-eyed and sputtering, Drusus dropped back into his seat. Caros studied him. “Let’s say I believe you didn’t intend to harm your benefactress. Who
do
you think put the snake in her room?”

“It could have been anyone.” Drusus frowned. “One of my servants or a funeral guest. How should I know? It’s not as though Adiona is loved. Some even consider her more poisonous than my adder.”

“You ungrateful weasel.” Caros ached to strike the wretch, but as a Christian, he’d been working to control the violent tendencies he’d learned in the arena. “Adiona has been kind and generous to you and yours. How can you speak ill of her?”

Drusus glanced away, shamefaced but unrepentant. “I suppose,” he said grudgingly. “My beauty might have even escaped her cage and accidentally found her way to Adiona’s room.”

“Accidentally, eh? From what I understand the balcony was locked and the chamber door closed when Adiona arrived back from the funeral.”

“I told you, I don’t know. Whatever the case, I didn’t do it.”

To his amazement, Caros found himself believing the other man. It galled him to do so, but his instincts rarely led him wrong. Until he held solid proof against Drusus, he had to follow his gut. He rose from the chair and rounded the desk. “Here’s what is going to happen. I’m going back to Rome—”

“Gods be praised,” Drusus muttered under his breath.

“My men will stay here and keep an eye on you.”

Drusus’s thin lips twisted. “You mean imprison me in my own villa.”

“Take it as you like,” Caros said, unconcerned. “If you’re as innocent as you say, you’ll send word to me if you learn the smallest detail of who is trying to harm Adiona.”

“I’ll consider it.” Drusus raised his hand and studied his fingernails.

Caros’s eyes narrowed. His fingers itched to close around the weasel’s throat and twist. “Good. Because if you don’t and I learn you’ve lied to me, you’ll be begging for the magistrate’s mercy before I’m finished with you.”

A
lways an early riser, Adiona woke to the sound of the sea and birdsong. She wrapped a
palla
around her shoulders and slipped her feet into the sandals she’d left by the bed.

Leaning out of the open window, she breathed in the fresh sea air. She turned to prepare for the day when the sight of Quintus walking alone on the beach caught her eye. Her heart picked up speed. With the distance between them, she was too far away to guess his mood or see his handsome features, but he’d rid himself of the slave’s garb in favor of a light-colored tunic just as he’d said he would.

Smiling because he never failed to keep his word even on the most trivial matters, she dragged herself from the window and dressed with haste. Washed and wearing her yellow tunic, she dabbed cinnamon perfume behind her ears before making her way into the corridor, down the stairs and out the front door.

Her quick pace continued all the way to the beach. At the last step before reaching the sand, she slowed and raised her chin to a regal angle. Quintus had his back to her, giving her a chance to catch her breath. She admired
the cut of his short black hair and the small birthmark at the nape of his neck. Muscles rippled across his broad shoulders as he skimmed stones across the surface of the sea.

Brushing the sand off his hands, he faced her. Caught staring, she felt her cheeks flame.

“Good morning, my lady.” His eyes were the same intense green as the limes growing in the villa’s central garden. “You look like a ray of sunshine in that tunic.”

“Thank you.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. The blood rushing in her ears was louder than the surf breaking on shore. Slightly dizzy from his warm regard, she felt as though a tide had rode in and she was drowning. “Your new garb suits you, as well.”

He smiled. “My clothes are more snug than when I was here to wear them last, but
anything
is better than the prickly wool of a slave’s tunic.”

She laughed. The white cotton he wore was a sharp contrast to his bronzed skin. His gladiatorial training had built his physique and long hours in the sun had only added to his appearance of health and vitality. “Of all the indignities of slavery, I do believe that wool is the one you complain of the most.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re probably right. Likely because its chafing is a constant reminder of my losses.”

A wave crashed loudly, drawing her attention to the shore a short distance away. Quintus rarely spoke of his past and then only when she inquired about it. “What is the first thing you’ll do once you’re a free man again?” She held her breath, hoping he planned to include her in his future.

“I’m returning to Amiternum,” he said without pause. “My son. I have to see that he was properly buried. I was
arrested and taken to prison before I was able to make certain.”

His worry for his son all these months must have tormented him. Her concern for Octavia had been overwhelming, yet Octavia was only a friend, not her child. “I’m sorry, Quintus. I can’t imagine how awful these past months have been for you.”

His jaw flexed. He turned away and looked out to sea. “My God has sustained me. I have faith He’ll continue to do so.”

She longed to go to him. She admired Quintus’s certainty in his God, but he didn’t fool her. His pain was too strong to hide. She wished she knew what to say to offer him comfort, but mere words seemed trite after all he’d suffered.

She went to stand beside him. He continued to look out over the sparkling sea. It was clear he didn’t want to discuss his past or his son any longer.

“You’re up early,” she said, striving for a change of subject. “Were you going somewhere?”

“No, I was praying.”

“Praying?” She glanced around. “Where is your shrine?”

Some of the tension left his body. He motioned with his hand to the sea and sky. “I don’t need a shrine when all of creation testifies to God’s glory.”

She remembered his prayer for Octavia on the way to Neopolis. The way he’d spoken to his God as though He were a trusted friend.

“What did you speak to Him about?”

“You’re nosy.”

“I’m sorry.” She flushed. “I’m intrigued.”

“I’m teasing you.” He grinned. “I don’t mind you asking. I sent Libo off to town for supplies and a few
messages, one of which I hope will find Lucius. I asked the Lord for Libo’s protection and to bring Lucius back here quickly.”

“Ah. When will Libo return?”

“Tonight, I imagine.”

She looked out over the water. A school of dolphins played a short distance from shore. “It’s beautiful here,” she murmured.

“Yes,” he agreed. “It is.”

She glanced over to find him watching her. Her face heated again, and she feared her cheeks were going to become permanently red if she didn’t control her reactions to him.

“Come.” He offered his hand to help her down from the step. “Take a walk with me. I want to show you something.”

Such an easy thing, taking hold of his hand, but this morning the simple action seemed monumental. Telling herself she was being foolish, that the frisson of excitement in the air was her imagination, she accepted his outstretched palm.

He led her across the beach, the wind whipping at her tunic. When they reached the mountainside that formed the southern end of the cove, Adiona thought they would return the way they’d come or head back to the villa. Quintus surprised her. “Follow me,” he said, smiling.

A little uncertain but enjoying the adventure, she allowed him to tow her along the base of the mountain.

“There it is.” He pointed ahead of them.

“I don’t see anything,” she admitted, feeling a bit duped and wondering if he was making a joke at her expense.

“Good. You’re not supposed to.”

“You’re starting to vex me, Quintus,” she said with mock seriousness. “If you’re playing some sort of trick on me, I’ll—”

He laughed. “You’ll what?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it,” she said coolly.

Grinning, he made a sharp right turn and tugged her into a hidden passage in the rock face. The sheer walls muffled the pounding of the waves on the beach. His warm hand clasping hers, Quintus reassured her with a smile. “It’s not far now.”

Eager to see where he was taking her, she followed him along the damp, sandy path, her blood humming with excitement.

“There it is.” Quintus pointed to what looked like a cave.

Adiona pulled back instantly. “I don’t want to go in there.”

He studied her for a moment. Had he forgotten her fear of small spaces? He combed his free hand through his hair. “Adiona, please trust me. I would never endanger you—”

“I know, but…”

“Don’t allow your husband to hurt you any longer.”

She gasped and pulled her hand from his grasp. “How dare you? You know nothing of it.”

“I know what you’ve told me. Is there more?”

She turned away. “I want to go back to the villa.”

“All right.”

His easy capitulation miffed her. “Is that all?”

“Is what all? You’re not making sense.”

“I know.”

“Then explain,” he said gently. “I want to understand.”

She released the breath locked in her chest. “I…I’m afraid, but I don’t want to be. I want to see why you’ve brought me here, but what if I panic again and act like a fool?”

He eased her closer. “No matter what you do, I won’t think you’re a fool. I’ll think you’re brave if you try. And if you find you’re afraid, we’ll leave.”

She glanced away, her vision blurring as she stared at the rock face. Indecision tugged at her until she thought she might rip in two. She closed her eyes. What did she have to lose? “All right. If you promise…”

“I do.”

He gave her no time to change her mind and hastened their pace up the path and through the covered channel. Inside the cave, the air grew cooler. Adiona’s heart pounded and her hands grew clammy, but her trust in Quintus prodded her on. Strange green lights flickered on the walls, growing brighter with each step forward.

A bend in the path found them in a grotto bathed in shimmering green light. Adiona caught her breath, marveling at the pool of seawater that glowed like an emerald backlit by sunshine.

“What do you think?” Quintus asked.

Speechless, Adiona knelt by the water’s edge and swept her hand through the cold water, watching the play of light on her fingers. “It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.” She looked up at Quintus and nearly drowned in the tenderness she found in his eyes. “How did this happen? What makes the water so clear and green?”

He shrugged. “No one knows.”

“How did you find this place?”

“My brother and I used to play here as children when my parents brought us to the villa each winter. It’s one of my favorite places.”

“I can see why.” She stood and rubbed her hands together to dry them. “It’s like being transported to paradise.”

“My thoughts exactly.” He drew her over to a bench. She sat on the damp marble and leaned against the cool stone wall. “How are you?” he asked.

In truth, the anxiety she usually experienced in confined spaces was perplexingly absent. “I’m fine…I think.”

“Good, but make sure to tell me if you need to leave.”

As always, his concern melted her heart. She patted the bench beside her. “Won’t you sit with me?”

He hesitated, but did as she asked. For long moments they sat in companionable silence, enjoying the sounds of the sea and the play of green light.

“The color reminds me of your eyes,” she said. “The first time I saw you, I remember thinking I’d never seen their like.”

“Yes, they’re an odd color, all right.”

“Don’t be dim. Surely, you know how handsome you are?”

He raked a hand through his hair, an action Adiona realized he did when he was uncomfortable. “That’s not for me to say.”

Amused by his modesty, she grinned. “Come now, you must have had females chasing you since childhood.”

He shrugged. “A few, perhaps. Surely less than the number of boys who chased after you.”

She glanced away, the game no longer amusing. “No one ever chased me. I was married off at twelve, remember? Crassus would have killed any man who looked twice in my direction.”

“Perhaps he loved you in a twisted sort of way.”

She gave a bitter laugh. “No one’s ever loved me. Certainly not Crassus.”

Quintus took hold of her hand. The matter-of-fact way she spoke of never being loved pierced him like an arrow to the heart. He longed to take her in his arms, to convince her of how much
he
loved her. But what would be the point? He’d sent Caros the money he owed for his freedom the day he’d arrived at the villa, but until he heard back from the lanista he was still a slave.

And she isn’t a Christian,
he reminded himself.

He remembered Pelonia had encountered a similar problem before her marriage to Caros. Until now, he hadn’t fully appreciated the faith and strength of will his friend had employed to leave the man she loved. Fearing he lacked the same strength when it came to leaving Adiona, he pushed the thought from his mind.

“I think you’re more loved than you realize,” he said.

“Really?” she asked, her voice flat. “What makes you think so?”

Realizing how dangerously close he was to declaring himself, he swallowed hard and sought a diversion. “Your father must—”

“Hardly,” she scoffed. “He abandoned me for war and sold me to Crassus for a fortune to cover his debts. I never saw him again after my wedding day. He died half a decade ago and I couldn’t care less.”

The note of pain in her voice told him otherwise. “You deserved better. What of your mother?”

“Father sent her away soon after I was born. I never knew why. I tried to find her after Crassus died, but all my inquiries proved futile. My old maid told me she died, but I don’t know for certain.”

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

She shrugged. “It was all a long time ago.”

Contemplating her confession, he stood and walked to the water’s edge where the play of colors was especially bright. The level of trust Adiona displayed in telling him her secrets honored him. Ever since that first night in the
tabernae
when he glimpsed the sensitive woman behind the mask she showed the world, Adiona had been an enigma he longed to explore.

He faced her. Thinking how lovely she was and how blessed any man would be to call her his wife, he asked, “If you’re certain Crassus bore you no affection, why pay a fortune for you? If he’d simply wanted a child bride, he could have bought one for a pittance.”

She glanced down at the folded hands in her lap. “I’d rather not say.”

Frustrated, but leery of pushing her, he nodded. “I understand.”

“Do you?” Adiona studied him from under her lashes. In the years she’d spent vying for social prominence among the Roman elite, she’d seen all manner of lascivious behavior. Nothing shocked her because she’d seen every vice imaginable, not that she’d ever participated. Always holding herself apart from the men who sought to use her, she’d been determined no one would ever have the chance to abuse her the way Crassus had during her marriage. The thought of submitting to any man’s touch sickened her. Until Quintus.

She stood, gathering every ounce of courage she possessed, and walked toward him. For years, she’d watched other women use seduction as a game or a weapon to glean a man’s affections. She wanted neither to toy with Quintus nor to harm him, but she did want him to love her.

Struggling to ignore the voice in her head that whispered she was a failure unworthy of affection, she clung to the hope that her husband was wrong and that somehow Quintus might find her appealing. Noting Quintus was trapped between her and the pool’s edge, she stopped a breath away from his broad chest. Terrified he’d ridicule her or reject her at any moment, she stood on tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck.

She felt his breathing quicken and saw his eyes dilate. Trembling, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips to the warmth of his.

He froze. His fingers clutched the silk at her ribs. In the exact moment she felt certain he meant to push her away, he groaned and pulled her against him.