Lucretia took a step back, surveying him as her mind recalculated what she thought she knew about him. She had never really contemplated how Felix spent his nights, but she had subconsciously assumed that as a bachelor, he made free use of Ostia’s hardworking population of courtesans. The thought that he might be celibate—virginal, even—had never entered her mind.
“So when you tried to flirt with me five years ago…you wanted me to be the first.” Something strange and warm lit within her that he’d thought of her that way. It suddenly put his interest in a different light, made it seem more meaningful than simple lust.
His lean shoulder rose and fell in another shrug. “I found you very beautiful, and I wanted to sleep with you. It was no more complex than that.”
“Have you approached other women since?”
He hesitated a moment. “I suppose not. As I said, I’ve been busy.”
“So I’m…”The only woman you’ve ever wanted to sleep with?She cut herself off before she voiced those words, her mind still working through the implications. For all this time, while he had been working to undermine her, he had been…lusting after her?
His jaw tensed. “I have been quite successful in setting aside any inconvenient feelings. Don’t make the mistake of thinking this gives you any power over me.”
“You are so determined to be in control of everything,” she murmured. “It must be quite lonely.”
“Not really,” he said. “Piles of money are excellent company.”
She snorted, then broke into a chuckle. A moment later, Felix joined her in a full-throated laugh. It was the first time she had ever heard him truly laugh. The sound was rusty at first, as if rarely used, but soon grew rich and deep.
Out of all the ways she had envisioned this strange day ending, laughing with Felix had to be the most unexpected.
Chapter 16
Felix lay awake in the small bed next to Lucretia. Night had long since fallen, and noise from the tavern below had slowed hours ago. The room was nearly pitch black, only a sliver of moonlight filtering through clouds and the tiny window.
He had never shared a bed with someone, and he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that it was Lucretia here in bed with him. Lucretia, his greatest rival and deepest desire. Lucretia, who had made him an extremely salacious—and tempting—offer but a few hours ago.
For a moment, he considered reneging on his stubbornness and taking the floor, as she’d wanted him to do. Being in a bed with her, after everything that happened earlier, was torture. His fingers remembered what it felt like to sink into the softness of her hips. And his cock certainly remembered being pressed tight against that warm, round bottom of hers.
Lucretia finally knew of his longstanding desire for her, the fact that she was the only woman he’d ever truly wanted. She hadn’t reacted with the disgust he’d once anticipated. She’dmerely been surprised—possibly shocked—at the extent of his inexperience.
She rolled over in the bed next to him, bumping him with her leg. He froze, worried the contact would wake her, but she only let out a little sigh and relaxed against him.
He envied her comfort. But she’d spent the majority of her adult life sharing a bed with her husband, so this probably felt normal to her.
On the other hand, he felt as out of his depth as an elephant in the Alps. Even the dull, accidental touch of her leg against his made his cock twitch and harden. He took a deep breath, willing the desire to dissipate. He was no stranger to self-pleasure, but it seemed ill-advised to take himself in hand while sharing a bed with her.
He forced his mind to think of anything but the woman slumbering next to him. He latched on to the image of the broken bodies on the shore earlier. The gruesome scene did help dispel his ardor, but it also made him think of Lucretia’s reaction. She had been truly affected by the loss of those men, and they weren’t even her sailors. She had a good heart. Unlike himself, whose first instinct had been to think of the denarii and sestertii lost today.
She moved again in the bed, inching closer to him. Then a soft, warm arm flung out, catching him across the shoulders. Her fingers grasped onto him, and her head nestled against his chest.
Felix exhaled a long, slow breath, debating whether he should wake her or try to move her.
He settled for the latter option and gently slipped a hand beneath the arm that stretched over his body, attempting to disentangle her grip. Her limp fingers gave way easily, and then he only had to slide his shoulder and arm out from beneath her head.
As he did so, she shifted, and he paused. The position left her head cradled in the crook of his arm, the way he imagined one lover might hold another. Propped on his forearm, he stared down at her face, trying to assess if she was about to wake. In the dark, he could hardly make out her features, but he knew them well. Delicate nose, round cheeks, full lips. Long neck, elegant collarbones…He stopped himself before his assessment ventured lower.
A shadow lay across her cheek and lip, and he realized it was a curl of hair, escaped from the braid she’d bound her auburn locks in before bed. With his free hand, he dared to brush the curl out of the way. His fingertip grazed the skin of her cheek, softer than the silk he imported from Serica. He couldn’t resist brushing the back of his fingers over her cheek. She was beautiful even in the dark, when all he could discern of her was the feel of her skin, the gentle sound of her breathing, and the warmth of her body.
For the umpteenth time in the last few hours, he cursed himself for refusing her proposal. If he had only agreed, he could have had her three times over by now. He could finally know what it would feel like to slide into the tight embrace of her body, to lose himself inside her.
He had refused for two reasons. Firstly, the cost of agreeing to a truce was too high. He wouldn’t abandon his ambitions simply for the sake of a—likely explosive—tryst or three.
Secondly, he meant what he said to her: he wanted her freely, or not at all. He didn’t want to feel like she was only lying with him to get something in return. He wanted her towanthim, as much as he wanted her.
She stirred again, and something warm covered his hand where it still rested on her cheek. When he realized it was her fingers clasping his, he froze. The rhythm of her breathingchanged, and her now-open eyes glinted, catching whatever scrap of light hid in the dark room.
“Felix,” she breathed, voice slurred with sleep.
