For Life or Until (Love and Warfare Series Book 1)

by Anne Garboczi

  She furrowed her brow. What was one supposed to do when reforging a relationship? They should probably talk for hours and discuss the details of a better tomorrow. Just the thought made her head ache.

  Sliding a sleeping Gwen into Cornelia’s abandoned basket of newly-washed linens, Ness leaned forward, hand on his leg. “I’ll probably change my mind about doing this,” she said and touched her lips to his.

  The muscles of his arms pressed against her waist as he wrapped his arms around her. He tugged her onto his legs. Not rough, but certainly not placid, he moved his mouth over hers. The fabric of their clothes wrinkled in the action as his hand came up to tangle in her hair and he moved forward with the kiss.

  As the intended peck swiftly turned into an entire invading force, she lost her ability to breathe.

  He paused, giving her lips one handbreadth of space from his as his eyes laughed. “Changed your mind yet?”

  Cockily, Ness stretched her hands back behind her on the stone. “That depends. Do you love me?”

  Aquilus opened his mouth.

  “And if you need to lie like back at my village, do so eloquently.”

  Words dying on his lips, he dropped his hands from her. “I made a wedding promise. I’ll always love you.”

  Made a wedding promise? He sounded like an emotionless Stoic. “I know you can do better than that.”

  He raised dark eyebrows. “Being called a liar does tend to make one stick to short statements.”

  “I want the whole speech.”

  “Only if you promise to believe every word.”

  She puckered her face and shot a sideways glance at Aquilus. He didn’t look willing to lower the stakes. “I’ll think about it.”

  Beside her, Aquilus gave a dry laugh. “The better question is, do you love me?”

  She arched her eyebrows. “I’m stuck with you and I decided to save being furious for tomorrow, does that count?” Her eyes dared him to find an answer.

  He twisted his lips up in a smile. “Of course, Juvenal said a woman should always be allowed the freedom of her own opinion.”

  Ness widened her eyes. “A Roman said that?”

  “Actually, no.” If soldiers turn red under that dark Roman tan of theirs, then Aquilus did.

  “You just misquoted him?” She laughed and leaned back on his side of the entranceway, gaze tilted up to him. “I bet you wouldn’t dare do that to one of those senators in Rome next month. See if Cassius is too pompous to admit his ignorance?”

  “Rome?” Aquilus jerked back. “Didn’t you read my letter?”

  Ness shook her head. “It only came this morn.”

  “I didn’t take the position.”

  Jolting back, she nearly knocked over Gwen’s basket. “What?”

  “I said no.”

  Aquilus said the words, but her mind could scarcely process them. The spring sunshine surrounded her. Breeze buzzed by her ears. From the alder tree across the street, a blackbird chirped. “Why?”

  He paused. “Because I love you.”

  Her hands dropped at the most eloquent words he’d ever spoken.

  “I’m going to take Legate Vocula’s position.”

  “But a consulship was the height of your ambition, the pinnacle of your career.” Her heart stopped. He’d done this for her.

  “Don’t remind me.” A look of physical pain swept over Aquilus’ face as he held up a hand to stop her. Then his eyes widened. “You were this congenial when you thought I took the consulship?”

  “I decided you’re less distasteful than the rest of Rome.” She flicked her eyelashes up. “Now that we’re staying in Britannia, you don’t rank so high.”

  “In truth?” He said, leaning forward. He grazed his hand against her cheek. Warmth flowed through her.

  She smiled at him and said the words another time to make them seem real. “We’re truly staying in Britannia?”

  “Well, until you tire of this land and want to travel the world with me again.”

  She sat straight up, her knee bumping into his. “Tire of Britannia, the flower of the Empire?”

  “See the Parthenon. Practice that Greek. Spend a year in Egypt with the Pyramids. Sail the Rhine?”

  “I’ve sailed the Rhine quite enough, thank you.”

  “Walk the streets of Jerusalem. Cross the Jordan River?” Aquilus’ voice had a magical quality as he described the wonders of the East. His dark hair ruffled in the breeze.

  She furrowed her brow. “I suppose I only hate Rome, not the entire Empire.”

  “Are you sure you hate it? What about a chariot race in the Colosseum?” He touched her knee, shifting the fabric of her dress.

  Summer sunshine swelled through her at his touch. She hesitated. “I always did want to watch one.”

  “Watch?” he said with mock scorn. “Why not take a chariot when the track’s empty and circle the ring?”

  “They’d let you use the whole Colosseum?”

  He laughed and ran a thumb over his palm in imitation of laying down a coin.

  She leaned back against the wall. “And what if I remain perfectly content here?”

  He reached out and flicked her hair. “You’re Ness.”

  “That’s not nice!” She shoved his hand down.

  Moving into her space, he circled both his hands around her instead. He loosened his grip and let one hand travel down the folds of her tunica, fingers warm on her body as they slid past the curve of her waist. “Where did you say you kept that knife?”

  “Don’t you wish you knew?” She caught his hand and tangled her fingers in his. Her shoulder brushed his chest as she leaned back in his arms.

  Instead of resisting, he rested against the wall and looked at her. “Forgive? Blank slate?”

  She scanned the streets. “Thinking about it.”

  “I forgive you.”

  Then again, she hadn’t kidnapped him from his hometown or tried to sell his sons. She pressed her lips together.

  He groaned. “We’re going to make this marriage work if it kills me.”

  “Die of what, a stormy marriage?” She flicked her fingers against his tunic.

  His voice sank, solemn as a tomb. “Those can be surprisingly lethal.”

  An involuntary laugh bubbled from inside her. Then, tightening her hand against the stone ledge, she met his gaze. “It will be four years this fall.”

  “I know.”

  “Too late, you think, to change things?”

  He snapped his fingers as if to show the shortness of it. “Four years, a breath in the space of time.”

  This from the man who thought disappearing for three months to Germania while she carried his child was a short absence. Aquilus always thought he could do anything, change anything. “Short?” She threw a pebble at him. “Let’s hold this conversation for later then, after another four years like the first.”

  The pebble bounced off his raised hand as he looked like he would choke on the thought. “Please, no.”

  She curled the sides of her mouth.

  “We’re going to make it work.” He took her hand, dark skin against light. The calluses on his palm grazed against her soft skin. Like the white-crested peaks of the Mediterranean Sea, his presence washed over her.

  She looked into his eyes. Then she tossed her head, her hair tumbling back over her shoulders like a laugh. “Let’s go to your villa.”

  Aquilus sighed, but a reluctant smile rose to his mouth. “You don’t believe in making it easy for a man.” His voice held all the richness of spring. Her heart flipped over itself.

  She flicked her gaze to his. “Tribunes look for easy?”

  “No, they’re idiots that way.”

  Chapter 31

  Aquilus grasped the gate handle and pulled. The Britain fields spread out below him. Ness knelt halfway between the villa house and the creek. Her face tensed in concentration as she buried seeds in the dirt. Only five weeks ago, he’d been in Rome. The Roman forum flashed before his ey
es.

  He had stood in front of the Senate building, mesmerized.

  Cassius shook his shoulder. “It’s time. Don’t want to keep Domitian waiting.”

  Aquilus followed him through the Senate’s bronze doors. Inside, laurel wreaths hung off the massive statue of Victoria, a symbol of Rome’s victories abroad. Stylized rosettes decorated the floor. Almost all the seats were full, the room ablaze with purple-edged togas. A quarter of an hour and the consul’s staff could be his.

  But Ness was his wife.

  He hardened his face. No one hurt his wife, not even him. Then he’d turned away from Cassius’ hand.

  Cassius brought his gaze up. “What?”

  “My wife.”

  “Would object?” Cassius frowned. “You were lucky to keep your head on your shoulders this time. I’d worry a bit more about saving your political reputation.”

  “She doesn’t want to come back to Rome yet.”

  Cassius had gripped his shoulder. “Love’s like wine, Son. You’ll sober up and wish you’d taken this opportunity.”

  With a shake of his head, Aquilus came back to the moment.

  Ness knelt in the field, her hair tumbling down around her shoulders. She pushed a dirt-stained hand up to wipe her brow and saw him. She smiled.

  Cassius had been wrong. He had no regrets.

  The grass tore apart on either side where Ness had made a row. His sandals sank into the dirt as he approached. He squatted down on the far side of the row. A pace away, Gwen kicked plump baby legs against the grass.

  He picked her up. She opened her tiny lips and let out a scream that would put Celtic berserkers to shame.

  “I always said you weren’t good with women.” Ness scooped dirt up over seeds, her light skin stained by the earth.

  “I manage.” Aquilus ran his fingers across Gwen’s face and tickled her chin. Slowly, her mouth wrinkled into a smile. The babe slid his finger into her mouth, sucking gracefully. Then Gwen chomped down, hard enough to make his eyes water.

  He pried his finger out and stared at the babe, who smiled innocently as his fingertip bruised red. “She deserves the Celtic name.”

  Ness tilted her chin up. “Gwen is a perfect name. I’m so glad you didn’t insist on that Aquila the first tradition.”

  Shifting one eyebrow up, he kept the wicked laughter from his eyes. “I’ve wondered something ever since you brought up that Aquila the first name.”

  Still squatting, Ness leaned back on her feet. “I cannot understand what dolt would invent such a tradition.”

  “Agreed,” Aquilus said way too politely. He wore no armor today and only a knife hung on his leather belt. His dark eyes had an intriguing light.

  “But your question?” She plunged her hand into the dirt. This entire field should have been planted a week ago, if not two.

  “Why did you say the first? Were you planning on having more of my children?”

  She felt her skin go red from the base of her neck to the top of her forehead. Reaching over, she shoved him.

  He snaked his free arm around her waist, pinning her to himself. Shielding Gwen’s head with one hand, he rolled sideways, bringing her to the ground beside him.

  Torn grass roots crumpled under her back as the sun’s warmth baked her skin. Gwen still in his other arm, Aquilus rolled to his elbows. “Blank slate?”

  A warbler tittered from a high oak bough. She looked up at him and the blue sky above, then she nodded. “Blank slate.”

  She touched his face as her eyes grew wistful and her voice took on a beautiful tone, a tone of forgiven offenses and new beginnings. “I wanted to tell you, I love.…”

  His gaze followed her lips.

  She threw a handful of dirt down his tunic. He startled. Grabbing Gwen, she ran toward the creek where Wryn and Eric sat kicking their legs.

  Hands behind his head, Aquilus leaned back against the tree trunk and watched as Ness ran from him. Her bare feet were light on the tall grass, the hem of her skirt catching as her lithe legs carried her forward.

  Glancing behind, she flaunted a victory smile. “They don’t teach you to run in the army?”

  “No need. You’re coming back here.”

  She halted, holding Gwen, and hooked one thumb in her belt, elbow out. “Says who?” Spreading her feet, she curled the sides of her mouth up.

  “The person who wrote this.” Reaching into his tunic, he pulled out a sealed missive and held it up.

  As she crossed the field toward him, he stood.

  She moved right next to him. He looked at her, taking in the Celtic blue hanging off her shoulders and that lovely face that could have launched a thousand ships, though with her aboard, the seamen might not have survived the journey.

  As she reached for the letter, she let her chest graze his. Her fingers touched the parchment and she slipped her gaze up to his mouth. She paused, tantalizing him, doing it on purpose. He could tell that.

  The parchment crinkled as she split the seal. Moving Gwen higher on her hip, she ran her gaze down the page. Her jaw dropped, revealing the prettiest white teeth ever created. “Deed to a hundred sheep?”

  “Not enough?” He slipped his hand around her waist, his thumb hooking in her belt as he laughed at her overcome face.

  “How did you know the exact number I wanted?”

  “I’m not as obtuse as you think.” He brushed the locks of her hair back from her face, the edge of his hand just grazing her cheek.

  She gazed up at him, a dazed look in her eyes, her mouth still slightly parted. “You can’t buy harmony with sheep.”

  “That, woman-I-love, is merely your opinion.” He kissed that open mouth.

  Laughing, she returned his kiss. “You’re cheating, you know.”

  “With you, sometimes that’s the only way.”

  She laughed again, the sound tripping over itself like water cascading down stone. “How will we manage with this much congenial domesticity?”

  “A good question. I think I’ll need a lifetime to answer it.”

  “Oh, you don’t have any lifetime for it.”

  He quirked an eyebrow.

  With one cocky finger, she pointed his gaze in the direction of the creek. Standing in it, Eric pushed Wryn under the water and Wryn swung back with a fist. With a gulp for breath, Eric grabbed Wryn’s collar and jumped into the deeper water.

  She lifted her dainty chin. “You have two sons currently trying to drown each other and doing a fairly good job, a daughter who’s about to scream,” with a snap of her fingers, she directed his gaze down to Gwen whose face had turned a disturbing shade of red, “and you owe me sheep, lots of sheep, and I want them yesterday.”

  Her hand shot up and she touched the stubble on his cheek. “And I love you,” she whispered, her gaze locked on his.

  “I know.” Gwen notwithstanding, he caught Ness up in his arms. Her body fit there like no time had elapsed and he could feel her heart beat, a handbreadth from his own.

  She shifted Gwen to the other arm and swung her legs. “How?”

  Aquilus laughed. “You didn’t glare at me when I held Gwen.” Moving one hand, letting it slip, he made as if to drop her. He caught her, but not before she had instinctively twisted her arms around his neck, her fingers bunching the fabric of his tunic. “And you called them my sons.”

  She swung herself down from his arms. “Speaking of sons.”

  He released her. “Yes, saving them from drowning. I haven’t forgotten.” Though with the way those boys swam they’d be fording rivers before too many years passed.

  “Make them apologize about hitting each other,” she called after him.

  “Don’t worry. I’m fully capable of teaching our sons proper behavior.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t try too hard or, heaven help us, they might turn out like you.”

  “Can’t fool me—you love me for it,” he called up the hill.

  She moved her hand to her hip. “I hope you’re not counting co
mpelling me to fall in love with you and manipulating me with sheep and promises of chariot races as an indication that you’ve won that wager about me playing by your rules.”

  “I’d never dream of thinking that.” Laughter danced in Aquilus’ eyes. “Besides, it’s not as if I bet much on it. Only a consulship.”

  A Little Later

  Aquilus’ lips met hers. Like iron on iron, sparks flew.

  Ness drew back. “Ecce, but you know how to kiss.”

  He laughed and pulled her closer. His hands felt warm against her back. As they pressed against the fabric of her dress, she could feel the tenacity in him, the stubbornness in his love.

  She brushed her hand across his face. Her fingers ran through the dark waves of his hair. She opened her mouth. “If—”

  Aquilus cupped her face as he covered her lips with another kiss.

  She drew back, eyebrows arching. “You think you can kiss me any time you wish?”

  He toyed with the seam at her neck. “You did tell me I was irresistibly attractive.”

  “Devastatingly, not irresistibly. I could resist any man if I tried.”

  “Why try?” He slid his hand down to her belt, played with the weave design. The joy of bubbling Britain brooks and sunlit days welled up inside of her.

  She pursed her lips. “As much as I loathe to admit it, you have a point.”

  He moved his hands down to her hips, spanned the distance from belt to skirt. “I always have a point.”

  “You would think that.”

  He took both her hands in one of his and drew her closer. Kissing her hands, the corners of his mouth turned up. “Have you considered that I could be right?”

  She raised her chin as her gaze was drawn in. “Have you considered that it’d be to your advantage to complete this kissing before I lose my temper?”

  “My wife angry? Never.” His eyes possessed the mystery of moonlit nights.

  She laughed. “You could have married a docile Roman girl.”

  “And miss being threatened with one of these?” Her dress rustled as he touched skin.

  She brought both hands slapping down against her leg—too late.