by Teri Barnett
“Y-your stew is getting cold.” She stepped back the color high on her cheeks only made her more appealing. “You should eat, and I should get back to work.”
“You do know I’m in charge, right?”
“You just like to think you are, Master Christos.” Stella walked into the room, Clarus behind her with her arms loaded with their purchases. “We all know this is my kitchen and I’m the boss here.”
Christos laughed. “You are one impertinent slave, Stella.” He patted her shoulder. “If you hadn’t raised me since I was a boy, I’d put you out into the fields for certain.”
Stella laughed. “And it’s much appreciated.” She turned to Valerie and Clarus. “You two, put this food away and start getting ready for the evening meal. She took the bowl out of Christos’s hand and wagged a finger at him. “You’ll ruin your dinner. Now off with you.”
He glanced at Valerie. She had her hand over her mouth, but he could see the smile she was trying to hide. It was good to see that.
I was grieved to think she might never smile again.
“Until dinner then.” He bowed with a flourish and left the room, but not before his eyes met hers one more time.
Chapter 20
Valerie rose earlier than usual, before the other servants. She quietly made her way to the bath, her bare feet lightly padding against the tile floor. Here, she hoped to have a moment to collect her thoughts before the day began.
Three weeks had passed and still she had no clue as to how she could return home. If only she knew what the catalyst was that launched her back in time? Perhaps she could figure out how to replicate it. Even if she did find the key, she still needed to escape the house, but Stella and Julius rarely let her out of their sight, let alone allowed her to go outside.
Not to mention, Christos baffled her. He was kind to her and greeted her warmly each morning and bid her a good night each evening, but she sensed an unleashed tension in him. Something she could not fathom nor define.
She served his meals and he was polite, even smiling at her. He asked how she fared and when she told him, he nodded. Luckily, since that first night, Gravia had not returned. She didn’t dare ask Stella or Julius why, and she certainly wasn’t going to ask Christos.
Just stay away from him as much as possible.
Easier said than done, even when she wasn’t around him, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking about his smile, or his ebony eyes, or how he ran his fingers through his dark, curly hair when he was distracted…
Reaching the bath, Valerie placed her tunic for the day on a stone bench next to the tub. She had conceded to wearing the shorter garment in order to avoid further confrontations with Christos. And she was amazed at the newfound freedom the clothing afforded. With no corset or crinoline to bind her, she could move with a grace and ease she had never known.
Valerie shrugged off her robe and let it drop to the floor. She lowered herself into the tepid water and, with a sigh, leaned back and closed her eyes.
In her mind’s eye, she saw Mama and Papa having their morning tea and biscuits with strawberry jam. Every morning, it was the same. She smiled to herself, remembering the day Reggie had discovered her romance novel. Mama was so cross at first…
It seemed like a lifetime ago, and she knew deep down that it truly was. But she was determined to return to her time again, no matter the risk.
She half-dozed in the warm, soothing waters of the bath, her thoughts lazily floating to Christos. “Do not forget that I own you now,” he had told her almost every day since her arrival. He was arrogant, but she couldn’t deny there was something in his arrogance that spoke of self-assuredness rather than conceit.
She squirmed. Thank heaven he hadn’t tried to kiss her after that first night with Gravia. The man completely unnerved her. There were times when she was gathering herbs in the garden, or washing the kitchen floor, she would sense his presence. Those dark eyes on her. Watching her…
What did he hope to discover? That she could still do her job despite the fact she was lame? No, it was more likely he wanted her unsettled. Whenever her eyes met his—she did feel unsettled… One moment he was kind when their paths crossed; another, he was distant, his mind obviously elsewhere.
Absently, Valerie touched her lips. That one kiss had sent fire racing through her veins with such intensity—a feeling she had never experienced—certainly not with Thomas.
She shifted in the bath, her legs restless, a tingling began to flutter in her core.
Here I go, feeling unsettled again.
“Salve, Valerie,” a deep masculine voice called out softly.
Valerie’s eyes flew open. She instinctively crossed her arms over her breasts. Christos stood at the foot of her bath. “How can you still be modest?” he chided. “Put your arms down. I would see again that which you guard so mightily.”
She shook her head. “It isn’t right.”
“Ah, now, what isn’t right about the human body? What evil lies there we should hide it away in the darkness and behind our hands and arms?” Without making a sound, he stepped closer to the tub and sat down behind her. Lazily, he let a hand drop, lightly fanning the water with his fingers. “You’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?”
“I’m afraid you overestimate yourself, sir.” She shifted nervously. “I believe you know I’ve been busy in the kitchen with Stella, learning my duties.” But even as she spoke, she sensed he knew she was lying. He was handsome, this master of hers, with his thick curly hair and flashing dark eyes. She feared greatly the emotions he had awakened in her. She feared even more what her response to him would be if he took her in his arms again.
“Julius tells me you don’t like to be ordered about. That you act like a regal queen when he tells you to do something,” Christos commented, his voice casual.
“Please know that I’m trying very hard to do as I’m asked. But some of the things he orders me to do are beyond reason.”
“I seek no explanation. I can see you’re not used to this work or station in life.” He reached across her shoulder and lifted her hand, examining the palm and fingers. “See? There are no calluses or scars to show you have labored in the past.”
“I won’t deny what you say.” Valerie pulled her hand away and pulled her knees up to her chest.
“You were gently bred for finer things, weren’t you? Like love, perhaps? I could order you to come to me, you know. But I am a man who prefers his women to come willingly with their arms open wide.” He raised his hand and let warm drops slide down Valerie’s spine. She shivered despite the heat of the water. “Tell me, Valerie, were you married in your native land?”
“No,” she answered. “Why do you ask?”
“I didn’t think you were, especially since no one claimed you from the jail.” He lightly touched the back of Valerie’s neck. Long tendrils of her hair fell from where they were piled on top of her head, and he twisted them around his finger.
“Would it make a difference? Would I still be your slave?” Valerie held her breath, waiting for his answer. If she could somehow recant her story, maybe he would let her go.
“Of course, you would. I bought you in a legitimate transaction. I only sought to make certain there would be no jealous husband coming to hunt you—or me—down.”
Valerie’s spirit fell. It didn’t matter to him whether or not she was married. Christos let his hand drop back into the water again. She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye as he took a bottle of scented oil from the ledge and poured it into his hands.
“I understand from the other servants that you were married once,” she said. She knew it was none of her business, but she could think of nothing else to say. Christos’s presence was maddening. Why didn’t he go away?
He raised an eyebrow. “Do you now? What else have they been gossiping about?”
“N-nothing
, really. I–I’m very sorry about what happened to your wife and child.”
“They both died, but the child was not mine.”
Valerie looked over her shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Well, you must have been the only one in all of the empire who didn’t. Five years ago, I was away on campaign—in your Brittania. Segis took a lover, became pregnant, and died in childbirth before I returned.” He slipped the glass stopper on the oil bottle and put it down. “The gods are ironic in their justice.”
“And you’ve never remarried?”
“I need no more pain in my life.”
Christos answered far too quickly. After all those years, his voice still carried hurt and bitterness. Some instinct deep inside her stirred, and she wrestled with the urge to reach out to him.
“So, tell me, Valerie, how do you like being here so far? Is it as bad as you imagined?”
She cleared her throat, acutely aware of how his hands were now massaging her shoulders and working the scented oil into her skin. “You’ve a pleasant house and, from what I’ve seen, you treat your servants well. But I’d still prefer to be home.”
“Home? This is your home.”
“No, this is your home. As I told you before, mine is far away from here.” She looked up into the brightening sky. “As far away as the moon and stars.”
“I would not have guessed a poet’s heart beat in your breast.” Christos leaned forward, and his lips brushed against her ear. “You are like a flower, dear Valerie. Open up to me. Let me sample your sweet nectar.”
Without even realizing it, Valerie leaned into his kiss as his mouth moved over her jaw and down her neck. Slowly, his hands slid past her shoulders and forced her arms away. He cupped her breasts, lifting and kneading them. His touch sent pleasurable waves through her body as he teased her into responding.
“You cannot deny me, Valerie. Remember, I own you.”
Valerie jerked free from his embrace. “How could I forget? After all, you see fit to remind me at every turn.” She grabbed her robe and, standing, yanked it on.
Christos’s expression grew dark and forbidding. He rose and laughed harshly. “You like this little game we play, don’t you? You pretend to be the virgin and me, the satyr. Tell me something. When you sacrifice yourself to me, will you enjoy it as much as I will?”
Valerie rubbed her temples, the aggravating tension of their encounter growing within her. What did he mean ‘pretend?’ “What are you talking about? Didn’t you say you wouldn’t force yourself on me?”
“I won’t have to. You were made for the pleasures of the flesh. Can you deny this?” He shook his head. “The way you lean into me so freely when I touch you –your body yearns for the enjoyment I can give.” He ran a wet finger down the side of her cheek and whispered, “Perhaps you should pay attention.”
“Never!” Valerie thumped her cane on the floor. At the same moment, a low tremor shook the room.
Another earthquake!
Frantically, she glanced about. A heavy clay vase tumbled from its pedestal and crashed to the floor.
“Come with me.” Christos scooped her into his arms and rushed out into the open garden, away from the structure of the house. He held her tightly against his chest. Then, just as quickly as it had begun, the rumble subsided. He let her slide out of his arms and took a step backward, his eyes never leaving her form. “How did you do that?”
“I didn’t do anything,” Valerie answered as she straightened her robe with shaky hands.
He shook her, sending her hair tumbling down her back. “This walking stick of yours. You hit it against the floor, then the earthquake came. What magic is this?”
“It’s not magic, I tell you.” Valerie pulled away from him. Then, a sudden shattering thought lanced through her.
My God. Have I been transported to ancient Pompeii only to meet my death?
“Tell me, please, what day and month is it?”
“Augustus. I believe it’s around the third day.” Christos looked at her closely.
Valerie’s eyes grew wide. “What year?”
Christos regarded her with confusion.
“I mean, who is the emperor and how far are you into his reign?”
“Titus is emperor. His rule has only just begun.” He ran a hand through his hair and his eyes narrowed. “What are you about, woman? Tell me what you know.”
Valerie quickly calculated what year she was in. “In three weeks’ time, Vesuvius will destroy Pompeii,” she choked out.
“How can you make this claim? Do you have the gift of sight?”
“No.” Valerie shook her head. She turned around and studied the hunting scene painted on the wall. Several tall cypress trees were planted on either side of it and a vine of ivy was beginning to creep up and over the artwork. Could she convince him of the coming eruption without giving herself away? What would he do with her if he knew her secret? She ran a hand through her hair and leaned wearily against her cane.
“I’m a student of history.” She took a deep breath. “Particularly Roman and Greek history.”
“But what you’re saying about Vesuvius, if it’s true, is part of the future. It hasn’t happened yet.” Christos turned Valerie around and forced her to look at him.
“I know this sounds incredible and far-fetched, but you must believe me.” Her eyes met his.
Christos rubbed his forehead and smiled slightly. “You know, it was those green eyes of yours that caught my attention when the people dragged you through the streets…Those same emerald jewels that haunted my dreams before you ever appeared before me in the flesh.”
He leaned forward, and she was burned by the intensity of his gaze. “If you say you can predict the future, then you must truly be a witch.”
Valerie pulled away from him, her head swimming, her breath coming faster at the sensual intensity in his gaze.
I haunted his dreams?
She shook off her desire to explore his admission and focused on the earthquake. Christos obviously didn’t believe her, so why did he insist on perpetuating this idea when she had so resolutely denied it? She had to laugh. A witch? Well, why not? She bowed before him. “Yes, my lord Christos Campanius Marcellus, you’ve guessed my innermost secret. I am a witch and I can control the elements.” Her eyes narrowed. “I can control you, if I so choose.”
It was Christos’s turn to laugh. “Show me.”
Valerie hesitated for a moment. Did she dare? She took a step forward and dropped her cane. Lacing her arms around his neck, she pulled his face close to hers. She brushed against him as she had seen Gravia do. “Kiss me,” she bade, her voice low and seductive.
Christos gathered her into his arms and pulled her tightly to his body. With a groan, his mouth melded with hers. “Ah, sweet, sweet, Valerie.” His hands moved in a heavy caress down her sides and over her buttocks. He pushed against her and his hardness pressed into her through the toga he wore.
Hekate’s prophecy flashed through Valerie’s mind…
You must travel to find your love. Travel through the mists.
Could Christos be that man?
I’m being foolish.
To him she was only a slave, personal property. Her mind raced and, suddenly fearful, Valerie pulled away from Christos.
He looked at her, askance.
“Did I not say I could control you?” she whispered, her voice shaky.
Christos smiled crookedly. He ran a hand along her bare arm. She shivered in response to his touch. “Tell me truthfully, witch. Who controls whom?”
Chapter 21
“Take the master his midday meal and be quick about it,” Stella ordered. She slowly moved her bulk to a small stool and Valerie was amazed it didn’t give way under her weight.
“When you get back, we’ll need to go to the market.
” She stopped talking for a moment, catching her breath. “We must finalize the selections for tomorrow night’s banquet.”
Valerie nodded, biting her tongue to keep from crying out in joy. They were going to the market! Finally, she was going to be let out of this house. If she were lucky, she might even find a chance to escape.
Her heart tugged at the thought of leaving Christos and sweet Clarus. What would become of them? She needed to convince them to leave Pompeii, to save themselves. But she could not go with them.
I need to get home.
She couldn’t stay in the past, especially with a man who only saw her as his property and not as a woman.
I certainly can’t stay when the entire city is bound for destruction in less than three weeks.
Valerie arranged a hunk of fresh bread, goat cheese, and a carafe of warm wine on a bronze tray. She looked closer, then realized it was the same tray she had carried to Christos’s room her first night there. She grinned as she pictured whacking the same tray over the head of a certain dark blonde-haired woman.
“What are you smiling about over there?” Stella asked, her voice sending Valerie’s mental image scattering.
“Oh, nothing really.” Valerie hoisted the tray up to rest on her shoulder. “I was just thinking, that’s all.”
“Well, stop it!” Stella stared hard at her. “You don’t fool me, you know. You think you’re too good for this work. I’ve seen your hands. They’ve never done a hard day’s labor.”
Valerie carefully placed the tray down on the table. With deliberate movements, she pulled a stool up opposite Stella. Their eyes locked. “I’ve never lied to you, Stella. I came from a wealthy family where we had our own servants. I told you my first day here I didn’t know how to prepare a meal, but I am trying.”
“Trying to make your way right into the master’s bed, as near as I can tell.” Stella laughed and her whole body shook, the stool creaking in protest with the motion.
