For a Roman's Heart

by Denise A. Agnew

  “It was a gift. Yours to keep.”

  His heartfelt statement shook her down to her boots. “I thank you. It kept me warm. I…it was on my bed and kept me comfortable during this last cold snap.”

  “Then why did you bring it back?” he asked, his voice gentle.

  “My parents insisted I return it.”

  His lips tightened, and muscles in his jaw worked. He turned away and stared out the window. “I see. Though I’m not surprised.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I did not mean to offend.”

  “Offend?” Once more he turned towards her, and his hand came up.

  She flinched and drew back.

  He frowned, but his voice was soft. “Did you think I was going to hit you?” He clasped her shoulders and leaned in close. “Listen to me. I’d never raise a hand to you. I don’t hurt women or children. I’ve never beaten a woman or child, nor will I suffer anyone to do so.”

  Realizing that she trembled from head to toe, Adrenia closed her eyes and took a shivering breath. Her muscles, which had locked tight, eased.

  “Goddess.” He rubbed her shoulders. “I was only reaching to do this.” He lifted his left hand slowly and touched her uneven hairline. “Who did this to you, Adrenia?” When she wouldn’t answer, he continued. “Were your parents angry about this cloak?”

  His hand brushed over her hair, then her cheek in a touch that made her want to melt like a kitten under a caress. “They say it isn’t appropriate for an unmarried woman to take a gift from a soldier.”

  His eyebrows went up. “Even an officer?”

  “Not any man.”

  He sniffed. “It’s as I told your father. No daughter of mine, no woman who belonged to me would go without protection from the elements.”

  “Because you have enough money?”

  “I do well enough. Enough to provide a wife with clothes.”

  At the word wife, something hot and unbidden shot through her. “I’m not your wife, sir.”

  He grunted. “As you said before. Please, Adrenia, don’t call me sir. Call me Terentius.”

  “Terentius.” She spoke without thinking. “You are quite different.”

  “Different?”

  “From any man I’ve known.”

  Silence dropped over them once more. She noted one thing she’d missed earlier in her survey of his modest quarters. Another cloak, this one a darker red and newer, lay looped over the back of a chair.

  “You have another cloak?” she asked.

  “I’m borrowing it from a fellow centurion who has two.”

  She laid his cloak and the exquisite broach that went with it onto the chair with the other cloak. “There are weavers hereabouts who sell to soldiers. I’ve made cloaks.”

  A genuine, wide smile brightened his features. She couldn’t help but stare into those verdant eyes and noticing his thick, dark lashes. “Then why didn’t you make one for yourself?”

  “My mother said I have to sell most everything I make. I keep a few garments so I have a little something to wear, but she insisted I sell the last cloak I made to one of her friends.”

  His gaze dropped to the long-sleeved grey tunica she wore, its ends falling in folds down around her ankles.

  “If you need a new cloak…” she started to say.

  “You’d make it for me?”

  “I could.”

  He walked to a table and withdrew money from a bag. He returned to her side and handed her the coins. “Will this be enough for a brand new cloak?”

  Adrenia’s eyes widened. “This is too much. I cannot accept it.”

  “You should be paid handsomely for good work. And I know you will weave a fine cloak for me.”

  “But—”

  He put one hand up. “If you do a poor job, I’ll take some of my money back. Does that sound fair?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  His eyes gleamed with enjoyment, and she understood then he was the most breathtaking man she’d seen in her life. She allowed her gaze to lock with his, and that slow-burning heat that always seemed to stir inside her when he was near came to full life.

  “How long will it take to make?” he asked.

  “With the orders I already have, a few days at the least.”

  “So be it. I shall visit soon and see how the work goes.”

  His eyes burned into hers as if he could read her every secret. It stirred passions hot and undeniable. Her heart and soul opened wider, expanded to accept more of who he was into her soul.

  He brushed his hand over her hair. “I’m so sorry about this, Adrenia. Your parents punished you because of me.”

  She nodded. “No. They punished me because I accepted your cloak.”

  Terentius made a sound of disgust. His hands rubbed her shoulders, and the heat of two big palms caressing her created fierce longing. “What did your parents say to you?”

  She shook her head.

  He lifted her chin so she was forced to look into his eyes. “Please tell me.”

  “They said if I took the cloak I must have allowed you liberties. That I...I must have allowed you sexual congress.”

  His brow furrowed. “Goddess.”

  “I told them I didn’t, but I think even if they believed me…” She shrugged again.

  He released her, his eyes stormy. “Why were you on the road alone that day?”

  “I’d just come from the Haunted Woods.”

  He tilted his head to the side a little. “Haunted Woods.”

  “You must have come right through them on your way here.”

  Understanding broke through his expression. “Ah, yes. It is a strange place. You weren’t frightened?”

  “Of course not.” She shook her head, and he released her arms. “Why should I be?”

  “With a name like the Haunted Woods, it must have a reputation.”

  She wandered across the room. “Everyone is afraid of it. They say bad deeds and awful ghosts live there.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  She nodded and turned to pin him with a curious gaze. “Did you feel anything strange when you traveled through there?”

  “I’m always cautious when I’m in any woods because bandits dwell there. Sometimes soldiers are ambushed in the woods. I allow my instincts to guide me.”

  Her next statement slipped from her without thought. “Please be careful.”

  Curiosity and surprise etched his features. “Always. But I cannot avoid the woods when I go to Durobrivae next week. Ermine Street crosses right through your Haunted Woods.”

  Disappointment stung deep inside her. “Why are you going to Durobrivae next week? Are you leaving for good?”

  “No. We’re hunting for a deserter from the fortress at Deva and received a tip on his whereabouts. A soldier from the fort at Durobrivae thought he’d met the man some time back.”

  “A deserter?”

  “Exactly.” He returned to stand close to her once more. “Please do me a favor?”

  “If I can.”

  “This man is dangerous. Brutal. I know there are many men like this and that you often travel without protection.” He frowned deeply. “That worries me.”

  That traitorous blossoming heat started low in her stomach once more. “You’re very kind, but I don’t have a man to protect me. My father is sometimes with me, but he can’t be everywhere I am.”

  This time, when he reached up to touch her hair, she didn’t recoil. “I understand. But please, please take care. Don’t go to the Haunted Woods by yourself.”

  “I thought you didn’t believe in haunted places.”

  “I believe in places where evil is done…or was done. And perhaps people can feel that evil and mistake it for a haunt.”

  She shivered delicately as his hand caressed her cheek. “You shouldn’t touch me this way.”

  “I won’t touch you this way if you say no.”

  “Why do you touch me like this?” she asked, breathless.

  His hand left h
er hair and caressed her cheek. “Because since the day I saw you, I felt something I have never felt before. It makes me long for something I shouldn’t. I asked you not to fear me Adrenia, but maybe you should.”

  She trembled from inside, a great shaking that had nothing do with trepidation and everything to do with acknowledging that something deep and different pulsed between her and this man. “Please…”

  “Please stop touching you? Or please don’t stop?”

  “This is improper.”

  “It is.”

  Before she could move, he shifted closer. He tilted her face toward him, drawing her mouth upwards, leaning down. She hovered on the verge of discovering her first kiss, and the passion stirring like a whirlwind inside her reached for him. Just this once she’d like to know a man’s lips on hers.

  Not just any man.

  Only this man.

  A pounding on the door made them both jump, and he stepped back.

  Chapter Five

  “Odi et amo: auare id faciam, fortasse requiris. Nescio,

  sed fieri sentio et excrucior.”

  (I hate and I love: why I do so you may well ask. I do not know,

  but I feel it happen and am in agony.)

  Catullus

  Latin Poet, c. 84–54 BC

  Terentius stalked across the room, his gaze etched with clear anger at the interruption. Adrenia wasn’t sure if she felt sorry or elated. Terentius threw the door wide open, and Victor stood there, big body blocking the light.

  Victor saluted, then he saw her. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t know you had company.”

  Terentius sighed and let him in. “What do you want?”

  “There is trouble near the square. A large riot. A cohort is ordered to put down the uprising.”

  “Damn it.” Terentius growled his words. “Arrange outside. I’ll be right there.”

  Victor left, and Terentius turned toward Adrenia. “I’m not leaving without this.”

  Before she could blink, his hands speared into her short hair. He held her steady, and his mouth came down on hers. A quick, hard press of lips to lips. He drew back.

  That is all? She wanted to ask. It was too little…too…fast.

  His gaze held that angry edge, but from what she wasn’t certain. A wild anxiety burst inside her. A vision of what could happen flickered in her mind’s eye, fast and horrible. A knife came up, digging into his side before he could block the blow.

  “Please, please take care,” she rasped the words. “I had a vision. Watch for the big, hairy man with the beard and long black hair. Watch his knife.”

  His frown deepened into utter confusion. “You have visions.”

  Goddess, he would hate her. Never wish to see her again. Perhaps it was for the best. She swallowed hard to clear the lump in her throat. “Yes.”

  He did something she didn’t expect. His powerful arm came around her waist, and this time he slid slowly into another kiss. This one touched one corner of her mouth lightly, then the center of her mouth, then the other corner. Great shivers of excitement assaulted her so massively she didn’t know how to respond. Her body didn’t care. It burned and tingled and demanded in places she didn’t even know she possessed until now. His body pressed along hers, every solid, amazing inch. Her fingers spread over his pectoral muscles and savored his battle-hardened sinew. She grasped his forearms, and his muscles rippled. When his hips undulated against hers, the hardness of his erection pressed into her stomach. A warm wetness ached between her legs. She yearned to press closer, to know a more intimate embrace. She gasped into his mouth, and with a groan he jerked back and stared at her. He did want her in the way a man wanted a woman.

  Adrenia yearned to discover more wicked feelings in his arms. Yet she feared what it could do to her, what it meant. All the things she didn’t understand and yet knew in the most secret regions of her mind. She realized, with awe, that Terentius shook with a fine trembling. This soldier wasn’t steady, wasn’t as invulnerable as she might have imagined before this moment.

  It terrified her. Tears rose to her eyes, but she shoved them back and took a gulping breath.

  He leaned in to kiss her ear, then whispered, “There is more. Much more I want…much more that you want. But we’ll have to do with this for now. As for your visions, I don’t believe in them.” His arms released her, and the incredible passion on his face left and filled once more with a soldier’s bearing. “I must go. You should stay here until I return.”

  “I cannot. Pella waits for me, and my parents will wonder where I’ve gone if I don’t return soon.”

  “Very well. But you must leave town immediately and return home. If there is unrest, it could spread.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “I wish I could take you home myself. I wish you could stay here. Tomorrow I will visit you to make sure all is well.”

  He opened the door and summoned a soldier. When the man stepped into the room, the soldier didn’t spare her a glance.

  “Crassus, take this woman outside to the front gate where her friend waits. Then you will escort them home. You will not fail to take them both home safely, do you hear me?”

  The man saluted. “As you will it, sir.” The soldier left.

  Though she knew he didn’t believe in visions, she said, “Terentius, beware of the man I mentioned. Remember what I said about his knife.”

  He nodded. “Go now.”

  She left with the other soldier, but before Terentius closed the door, she gave him one last, lingering look. Would it be the last time she ever saw him?

  Damn her.

  Adrenia intruded on Terentius’s thoughts as the cohort of soldiers, fifty strong, moved toward Durovigutum by foot and horseback. As centurion, Terentius led the grouping. Victor road alongside as they headed toward conflict.

  All thoughts of Adrenia’s pale beauty must be shoved aside. Returning to the battle mood he’d trained for since sixteen, he shifted to warrior. They could hear a disturbance somewhere near the forum, but Terentius understood the soldiers must make a quiet approach. The auxiliary men also understood. In order for the cohort to win this clash, absolute cohesion was imperative. Terentius tried to keep his mind on the work ahead, but his blood pumped rather than calmed. He ran his visit with Adrenia through his head. When the soldier had reported that she wanted to see him, his heart had leapt with anticipation.

  His resolve to forget Adrenia failed. Seeing her today had blown his control into small pieces. His jaw clenched. Goddess, what her parents had done to Adrenia. He wanted to charge to her defense, to whip her parents within an inch of their lives for cutting her beautiful black hair into spiky, unattractive clumps. Yet the spiked hair gave her a gamin appearance, a delicate and defenseless look that appealed to his masculinity. Seeing her, strange haircut or not, inflamed his desires. He wanted to tell her all of this, explain his feelings and thoughts.

  That had never happened to him with a woman before. Not one.

  Knowing her parents treated her so abominably and that she’d suffered an illness without a medicus present also stung him. Moreover, he realized he’d been too gruff with her when she’d shown up at his door.

  He wanted her, no doubt about it. His lust raged almost out of control. He’d practically lost it when he’d kissed her, almost tried to seduce her. The way she’d trembled in his arms, he could have accomplished that goal. Taste, caress, conquer. If it had been any other place or time, he might have taken her.

  Now was not the time to think about Adrenia. He must concentrate on the task at hand.

  He led his men forward with resolute intention. They’d put down rebellion without a problem. The square, with its small forum, mimicked a smaller-scale Rome. In the middle of the square a gaggle of men numbering around one hundred had taken over. Looters fled from the shops, running in every direction as shopkeepers chased them or yelled from doorways.

  Terentius knew the auxiliary forces with him could turn either way. The centurion
from this cohort resented Terentius’s command even though Terentius told him he’d give him full reign over his own men. In his many experiences with auxiliaries, he’d discovered they weren’t as different from legionnaires as many thought. Terentius determined this outing would result in success. Just before the skirmish started, Terentius looked toward a set of buildings and saw a man standing inside an alleyway. From this distance he couldn’t say for certain, but it looked like Sulla.

  Terentius’s insides clenched. His horse trembled under him and moved its feet, as if it could feel his tension.

  Victor came up beside Terentius. “What is it?”

  “See that man—” Terentius cut himself off. “Damn it.”

  “What is it?” Victor asked.

  “I thought I saw Sulla.”

  “We’ll be seeing the bastard around every corner, no doubt.”

  “Huh.” Terentius grunted his derision. “Even if that was him, we can’t go after him now.”

  After a short pause, Victor asked, “What are these peasants upset about anyway?”

  “Everything,” Terentius said. “And nothing. There are rumors off and on that the shopkeepers are being urged to overcharge by the governor and those extra monies are passed on to the governor.

  Victor snorted. “How likely is that?”

  “Somewhat likely. But it doesn’t change a whit what we’re here to do.”

  Victor nodded. “Not a whit.”

  Though Terentius wanted to check and see if the man he’d spot in alley could be Sulla, Terentius couldn’t afford to break ranks. He shoved back the resentment and returned his mind to present business.

  The auxiliary centurion lined up at the left side. Over the heads of the auxiliaries, who walked rather than rode horses, Terentius looked at the auxiliary centurion and nodded. The man returned the nod, and Terentius used his whistle to alert the men. The auxiliary centurion called out orders, and they marched forward into the mess. Precision march, shields in position, lancea held at the ready, the soldiers approached. Victor kept his spot behind Terentius, ready to take command should Terentius fall. The rioting gaggle saw the soldiers forming and broke apart. Oriton sent his men into a charge.