He looked askance at her pilfering but made no comment.
Because the thought of you with someone else makes me want to break something. Because I’ve wondered what it would be like to liewith you since the moment I met you. Because I haven’t wanted anyone like this…ever?
“Because it would be a waste of money,” she finally said.
He blinked at her. Leaning on one powerful arm, he pushed himself into a sitting position. “What do you—” He broke off to clear his throat, as if it had suddenly gone dry. “What do you mean?”
“Come back to the ludus with me,” she murmured, lowering her voice so none of their neighbors would hear. “Don’t waste your coin on a brothel.”
She didn’t care how brazen she sounded. He might die tomorrow. It was doubtful, but possible. And she couldn’t let him possibly die without taking him to bed.
All the reasons she’d ended their kiss now seemed meaningless. Perhaps it was still dangerous to muddle her relationship with the man she’d hired to shape Achilles into a successful gladiator, but none of that mattered when Ferox was about to face death in the arena tomorrow.
The rapidly shrinking rational part of her brain reminded her he was extremely unlikely to die, based both on his skill and the fact that he was beloved by the people.
But that rational part of her mind was easy to bury beneath the simple fact that she wanted him. And this time, wanting him wasn’t about defying her parents or chasing a thrill. It was abouthim—how she felt when he touched her, the way his presence drew her to linger near him whenever she could. How many hours had she wasted watching him train Achilles when she could have been busying herself with errands for her uncle?
Ferox met her gaze. The shock faded from his dark eyes, laying bare a hunger that echoed the growing ache of need in her core.
Silently, he rose from the couch and helped her to her feet. Velia anticipated the others were too occupied with their feasting and carousing to notice the two of them leaving together, but if someone spotted them, she hardly cared. She had no reputation to protect, and she was no longer beholden to anyone’s ideas about how she should conduct herself.
Without a backward glance, she left the banquet behind, and walked with Ferox to the ludus.
10
Apartfromasurlyguard at the entrance, peeved at missing the festivities, the ludus was empty. In the barracks building, shadows cloaked them as Ferox led Velia to the door of his tiny room. The whole walk back, he’d been waiting for her to change her mind. Perhaps now she’d come up with some excuse, some reason to disappear.
But as soon as he opened the door, she walked straight in, as bold as if it were her own room. A smirk lifted the corner of her mouth as she beheld the graffiti that still adorned his wall.
Ferox turned away to light an oil lamp, which rested on a shelf bolted to the wall. It filled the room with a warm, flickering glow. He paused for a moment, his back still to her. How should he go about this? He hadn’t lain with a woman since the night before his last fight, over eighteen months ago. His prior partners had all valued efficiency when it came to bedding; the faster it was over, the faster they could move onto their next customer.
But with Velia, he wanted to take his time.
When he turned back around, Velia was standing in the middle of his room, gazing steadily at him. He envied her composure. Being alone with her, his stomach was a riot of nerves—a welcome relief from worrying about tomorrow’s fight.
At the banquet, she hadn’t been entirely correct in assessing his plans for that evening. He hadn’t yet decided whether he was going to seek out a woman. After so long away from the arena, he felt as tense and ill-equipped as he had before his very first fight, and a night with a woman was the most reliable way he’d found to distract himself.
But he’d spent most of the banquet surreptitiously eying Velia from across the table, and he came to the uncomfortable realization that he didn’t want a quick tumble with a woman whose name he’d never remember, a woman who was only bedding him because he paid her to.
He wanted Velia. And somehow, she was in his room—real and warm and so, so beautiful.
Velia was bold enough that he half-expected her to take charge of the situation. To his surprise, however, she did nothing, only stood there watching him. Waiting.
He recognized her inaction not as hesitance or uncertainty, but as something else. She, after all, had initiated their kiss and had been daring enough to flat-out proposition him in the middle of the banquet.
Now, it was his turn to prove how much he wanted her.
He approached her. She tilted her face up, holding his gaze. His arms slid around her, and the pleasure of holding her stole his breath for a moment. He lowered his head and kissed her. She let out a sigh against his mouth and pressed closer. Arousal flared, quickening his heartbeat.
His palms tingled with the desire to feel her bare skin against them, and he didn’t deny himself. He found the fabric sash at her waist and untied it. Then, his hands went to the shoulders of herdress, pulling them down. The loose dress gave way easily, baring her breasts and then falling to the floor in a heap of fabric.
His breath stuttered in his throat as he beheld her. He forgot how to breathe, to move, to think. The low light didn’t do her justice; she deserved the blaze of high noon sunlight to bathe every inch of her perfect body.
But since the sight of her shadowed body was nearly enough to undo him, perhaps it was for the best they didn’t have more light.
Her body was slight but womanly, with a swell of breasts and hips usually kept well-hidden beneath her clothing. She was formed with a fineness that reminded him of figures on painted vases—so exquisite she couldn’t possibly be real.
He reached for her, taking her into his arms again. Her small breasts were just enough to fill his palms, and she shivered as he gave them a gentle squeeze.
