“I think they have more important things to worry about.” He seized on her shock, needing something to distract himself from their talk about marriage and children and parting, and leaped to his feet. He held up his arms as if addressing the gods directly. “Juno’s cunt,” he intoned. “Mars’s balls. Jupiter’s hairy—”
Volusia leaped up and clapped a hand over his mouth. “Stop it!” She was half-scandalized, and half-laughing.
The touch of her hand on his face made him fall silent. He stared down at her, swimming in her luminous hazel eyes. Her hand gently slid from his mouth, her touch becoming a caress down his jaw, his neck.
His arms slid around her of their own accord, pulling her close. Her slim body felt so good, sorightin his arms—just like when he’d ridden Elephant for the first time.
He only wanted to hold her, but then she tilted her face up and rose on her tiptoes to brush his mouth with hers.
A shiver ran down his spine. Everything faded away—the columns in the atrium, the smell of food from the kitchens, even his excitement and anxiety about their futures. There was only Volusia, her gleaming eyes and pink cheeks and soft mouth.
Their lips met again in a hard, searching kiss. She pressed against him, and he allowed her slight weight to push him backward.
They almost fell over, but he managed to right them and guide them to a column for support. Her hands slid down his chest, finding places Max didn’t even know could be pleasurable. Emboldened by her touch, he drew one hand up her waist, still kissing her with mindless desperation. His fingers splayed on her ribs, resting just beneath the curve of her breast. He waited for her to tense, to draw back, but when she didn’t, he allowed his hand to shift further upward. She let out a little gasp against his cheek as his fingers brushed against her breast, warmth filling his hand.
He braced himself against the column, Volusia nestled into him. She was still grabbing at him, pulling him ever closer.
A shout split the air. Volusia jerked, shoving Max away from her. He stumbled back and whipped his head around to see Volusia’s stepfather bearing down on them, his sallow face purpling with rage.
“What villainy is this? How dare you come into my house and assault my daughter?” Rufus skidded to a halt an arm’s length from Max. His wife, Sabina, latched on to his elbow, which seemed to be the only thing stopping him from hurling himself at Max.
“Father!” Volusia gasped.
Rufus kept bellowing about disrespect and virtue and honor. His voice had an unfortunate habit of growing higher the more incensed he became, until he sounded like an enraged mouse. He finally freed his arm from Sabina’s grasp and stepped right up to Max, shaking his fist in Max’s face.
Max spoke evenly. “Get your hand out of my face, or I will break your fucking fingers.”
“You insolent animal,” Rufus hissed, but he did lower his hand. “I will have you sued for assault. Your name will be dragged through themud—”
Two more figures entered the atrium, and the calm voice of Max’s father interrupted Rufus’s threats. “I’m sure you don’t mean to be speaking in such a manner to my son, Rufus.”
“What my husband means,” Crispina said, her voice icy, “is that if you don’t moderate your tone, I will dunk you in the atrium pool.”
Rufus turned to her. “Your brat deserves much more than some harsh words. I saw him with hisfilthyhands all over my daughter!”
“Father!” Volusia interjected again. Angry tears glimmered in her eyes. One spilled down her cheek, and Max’s heart clenched at the sight of it. Sabina went to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and trying to lead her away, but Volusia evaded her mother’s gentle grasp. “Listen to me! It’s not what you think.”
“Don’t try to defend him, Volusia. I know what I saw,” Rufus snarled.
“Perhaps you should let the young lady speak,” Aelius said. He had a knack for speaking quietly yet commanding the attention of a room, even in chaos like this.
Rufus glared at him, but fell silent. Volusia took a breath and cast Max a glance. “No offense was given,” she said in a small voice. “It was—”
Max knew that she was about to take the blame for their kiss, to insist that it was all her fault and he’d done no wrong. Maybe it was true—she had initiated the kiss—but in an instant, Max knew he couldn’t let her take responsibility for this. She’d face her parents’ displeasure and anger. Word of this might even get out, if the household slaves gossiped, and jeopardize her engagement.
“All my fault,” he finished her sentence. Five pairs of eyes snapped to him. “It was a silly joke. I meant no harm.”
“No harm? No harm?” Rufus exclaimed.
Volusia bit her lip. Max could tell she was on the verge of confessing, but he held her gaze and gave a slight shake of his head.
Aelius cleared his throat. “If Volusia is not offended, then no more needs to be said. I think it’s time for us to be going.” He beckoned to Max.
Max stepped toward him, but Rufus blocked his path, his face still blotchy and red. “You will never set foot in my house again, is that understood? Much less speak a single word more to my daughter.”
“Father—” Volusia protested, but Rufus held up a hand and she fell silent.
“You are not worthy of breathing the same air as her,” Rufus said, his voice hoarse from shouting. “You will never be anything more than a dirt-grubbing stray—”
