Ferox grumbled and turned his attention to the tray, removing the napkin that covered it. “What’s this?”
Velia reached out to pick up one of the globi, the fried cheesecake balls she’d acquired specially. “Lea told me about your conversation. How you’ve gone all this time thinking your friend was haunting you. I remembered you told me his favorite food was globi. So I thought, if he is here, maybe he’d like to know we remember him this way.”
She hadn’t realized the extent to which Ferox had been tormented by his grief and his guilt until speaking to Lea earlier that day. Her heart broke to think of how he must have suffered, stubbornly refusing to unburden himself to his friends because hebelieved he didn’t deserve solace. Now, she hoped he would one day be able to remember Hector with fondness, not anguish.
A small smile lifted the corners of Ferox’s mouth. He lifted one of the round golden morsels. “You know, I think I do feel him here, but not in the way I used to.” He closed his eyes briefly. “I hope you’re stuffing your face with these in Elysium, my friend,” he murmured, then popped the ball into his mouth.
Velia joined him in devouring the rest of the globi, along with the other, more nutritious food she’d brought. As she ate, she surveyed him. Now that the all-consuming stress of the day was behind them, her mind turned toward the future.
They hadn’t fully discussed Ferox’s declaration that he’d stay and be her trainer, as things had still been so uncertain last night. What if he’d changed his mind? What if he’d only said it to make her happy in that moment, knowing he might not survive the next day?
“Did you…mean what you said last night?” she asked, cursing the hesitation in her voice. “Only because, well, if you’re to stay, I’m going to have to pay my uncle for your room and board. So you’d better enjoy every bite of that food if it’s coming out of my purse.”
He polished off a chunk of cheese, then met her gaze. “I meant it.”
Relief and joy flooded her in equal measure. An exuberant smile spread across her face. She’d thought this day was going to be the worst of her life, but it might just have become the best.
“I have one condition, though,” he continued.
“Oh?” She couldn’t think of anything he’d ask that she’d refuse.
“If you’re to take on more gladiators, and I’m to train them…I want them all to be volunteers. Like Achilles. No slaves.” His eyes were dark and serious.
Velia nodded without hesitation. “Only volunteers.” Limiting herself to volunteers would slow her ability to expand, as she’d have to wait for the right candidates to present themselves, but she understood why Ferox asked that, and it was easy to agree.
“I’ll have to put the word out that I’m looking for men,” she said. “I was hoping to make enough profit to move into a ludus of our own in the next year or so. There’s an empty building nearby that I think is the right size. It would take some patching up, but it would do.”
He twined his fingers with hers. “Whatever figure you think you’ll need to raise, subtract thirty thousand from it. I still have the earnings from my first fight. Well, minus the rugs you made me buy. And that pitcher.”
“You’d really do that? Spend your money on buying a new ludus?”
“Not just a ludus,” he murmured. “A future. With you.”
Tears welled, and she dashed them away with the back of her hand. “Well, if you’re to be my trainer, that makes you my employee,” she announced, laughing through her lingering tears. “Which means you have to doeverythingI say.” She allowed her smile to turn sly, suggestive.
His eyebrows twitched. “We’ll see about that.”
She glanced at the bandages visible on his hand and elsewhere. “I don’t think you’re in any condition to be giving orders.”
Heat sparked in his gaze. “Take this tray away and I’ll show you what condition I’m in.”
She reached for the tray but bit her lip. A familiar throbbing tingle was building in her core, but despite her saucy words, she knew they may need to hold back until he had recovered further. “Are you sure? We can wait…”
“Put the tray on the floor, Velia.”
When he took that dark, commanding tone, there was no denying him. She did as he asked, and the removal of the tray revealed a swelling arousal tenting the wool blanket that covered him from the waist down.
She ran her hand over it, rewarded by the way his breath caught at her touch.
He slid down from his sitting position to lie flat on the bed, then flung away the blanket. He was naked but for the bandages, and a pleased thrill ran through her at the sight of him, body still undeniably powerful despite his wounds.
“Come here.” He guided her forward until she straddled his hips, careful as she could not to jostle his leg. His stiffening cock pressed against her center, and she slid herself against it, but the fabric of her dress was in the way.
“Take off your dress.”
Again, she obeyed, and the linen fabric fluttered to the floor atop the discarded blanket. His hands grasped her hips, pulling her against him. He probably shouldn’t be gripping her that way with his injured left hand, but she wasn’t about to tell him to stop.
“Remember that time you bound my wrists?” he murmured.
