The Patrician's Fortune- A Historical Romance

by Kayse, Joan

  With effort he tamped down the surge of heat that shot through his blood. His goal in suggesting the arrangement had been an honest effort to enhance the perception of a sound marriage while affording him time to investigate Quintus. Well of course that had been his intent. After all, he’d assured Julia from their first meeting that he was a man of his word, a man of honor. And she had accepted that despite her concerns and doubt regarding his character. Bedding Julia was not his intention.

  His gaze shifted back to his goddess and he noted the strain marring her beautiful face. It didn’t sit well with him that he’d caused it, but there were few choices. Her poorly thought out plan was firm evidence that she had no understanding of what Quintus was capable of while he had witnessed fifty bloody instances of his cruelty.

  Damon strolled to Julia, resisted the urge to slip his arm around her waist. No use angering the giant any more than necessary, though the warmth radiating from her was becoming a very pleasurable habit. Careful to keep his expression indifferent he asked. “Is there a problem?”

  “Kaj has concerns,” began Julia.

  “I have more than concerns,” Kaj spat out. “You intend to harm my lady and this I will not allow.”

  Damon gave the big man a measuring look. He knew the servant was loyal to Julia but there was an emotion deeper than devotion to a mistress threaded through his words. A stab of jealousy went through him until he realized that emotion was Kaj’s true concern.

  Damon blew out a breath. It would be more advantageous to have Kaj as an ally than to continue as an enemy. “You have no reason to believe me when I say I want Julia safe. But you and I have been out in the world. We know the lengths someone like Quintus will go to to get what he wants—my near execution is only one example.”

  Kaj shifted his attention by an almost imperceptible degree to Damon. It was a start. “The problem lies in discovering what the Prefect really wants,” Damon continued, “while fostering this illusion of marriage. You know as well as I that this was not the best plan.” Damon bit the inside of his mouth as Julia bristled under Kaj’s self-satisfied look.

  “I tried to convince her of this from the onset,” Kaj said. “She is a most stubborn female.”

  “She is that,” Damon agreed.

  “Your pardon,” Julia said between clenched teeth. “I am still present.”

  Damon flashed her a smile which only broadened under her heated glare. She reminded him of a lioness, the fleeting image of taming the she-cat sent more heat through his core. Taking into consideration that devouring Julia with his eyes might not be the best approach with Kaj, he sobered. “You see Kaj, we are on common ground. You have my vow that Julia will be safe with me.” From him, he amended silently, he wasn’t as certain.

  “I am in no danger,” Julia insisted, “I agreed to this only to prevent any doubts about my marital status from wending their way outside these walls.” She sent him a warning look. “Damon will share the bedchamber, nothing more.”

  What was he, a eunuch? It would take only a moment, given his natural talent and skilled hands, to coax the passion he knew she possessed to the surface. His cock twitched at the possibility.

  Gods, what was he thinking? He was attracted to Julia—what sane man with a drop of blood in his body wouldn’t be—but to seduce her would go against the honor he’d worked so hard to convince her he possessed.

  Honor was damn inconvenient.

  Damon pulled himself out of his musing to realize that Julia had been giving Kaj some sort of instructions. The big man still looked miserable but he acknowledged her with a curt bow before stalking off to do her bidding. Julia watched him go, twisting her ring.

  “He’s a very loyal servant,” commented Damon.

  Julia whirled toward him, eyes flashing fire. “He is a friend who I have put into an untenable position. He only has my welfare in mind.”

  “As do I,” he replied.

  “I’m not so certain,” she answered. “Perhaps it is your own interests that lay at the heart of all this.”

  Damon narrowed his eyes at the challenge in her tone. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps it is selfish of me to use Quintus’ interest in you to discover why the Urban Prefect of Rome had fifty innocent citizens killed.” Damon set his jaw. And then there was the small matter of saving his sister from a lifetime of servitude with Tertius. Insignificant to an aristocrat like Julia who had no idea what it was to be denied her freedom. “If protecting your spoiled patrician neck is the price I must pay, then so be it.”

  Julia only looked at him, her expression so inscrutable that Damon thought she’d turned to marble. Perhaps he’d pushed her too far. It was not unknown amongst his acquaintances that his varied charms dissipated beneath his temper. But then he rarely allowed his anger to take control of his mood or his speech. In his occupation, he could not afford to. But Gods, this woman had a talent for sparking it.

  He’d been prepared to take advantage of a display of patrician arrogance with scathing remarks. Instead he felt a jolt of respect at the sheer determination and conviction he saw gleaming in her eyes. He found it damn attractive.

  She lowered her head and took a deep breath. “Contrary to what you may believe, I am not immune to the suffering of others and it would be foolish for me deny that I’ve not had advantages that only my social status could offer.” She lifted her head and pinned him with a look, centuries of a nation-conquering race stiffening her spine. “But do not think for a moment that this spoiled patrician would not hesitate to sacrifice every bit of it to save her family.”

  Who could doubt it? “A truce, Julia,” he said, extending his hands, palms up. “I have never doubted your dedication to your cause. If not for it, I’d be rotting on a cross along the Via Appia.” He tilted his head and smiled at her “By the way, have I thanked you for that lately?” He got the response he’d hoped for when her expression relaxed.

  Gods, he wanted to kiss those lips. Suckle and tease and drink like a sot left to tend the wine shop from that full, generous mouth.

  But no, he had to promise to be honorable. A disgusted noise escaped from deep in his throat causing Julia to tense. Damon rushed to put her at ease. “We can work together on this and serve both purposes. Protecting you and your family is of prime importance until your father returns and can resume that duty. Whatever tidbits of information I might glean during that time I will take with me when I leave.”

  A long moment passed as she considered his offer. “That is agreeable.” She raised one brow and crossed her arms beneath her breasts, lifting them the smallest degree. “But remember your vow to follow my instructions in this matter.”

  Damon dragged his attention away from those enticing globes. She truly did have the body of a goddess and she was casting a spell on his poor mortal being. If he intended to be honorable he was going to have to spend a lot of time in the cold water of the frigidarium.

  “Damon?”

  “Yes, Julia,” he answered, summoning up his best complacent voice. She responded by sending him a sidelong look filled with suspicion and doubt.

  A wave of annoyance swept through him. He’d used that tone effectively for years, first as a slave who needed to hide the knowledge he resented any commands, wanted to do no one’s bidding save his own, then as a spy who needed to lure people into...trusting him. His gaze shot back to her. The knowing look that settled on her delicate features sent a bolt through him. Damn.

  “Are you listening?” she asked again, her tone bordering between terse and exasperated.

  “Of course,” he answered through clenched teeth. It shouldn’t bother him that she thought him a liar and a fraud. He was just that the majority of the time, but only as a matter of survival. Though Jared, his former master turned friend, had treated him like family there had always been that invisible barrier that kept him firmly in his place. Later, in his work as a spy...well, honesty and espionage were a poor mix. “What dutiful husband does not cling to every word uttered b
y his beautiful wife?”

  “Hmmmm,” she murmured. “If Gaius Julius Caesar had listened to his wife he’d not have gone to the Forum that Ides day.”

  Damon cocked a brow. Humor? From his all-too-proper Roman goddess? How unexpected—and utterly fascinating.

  “You may come to dinner, for appearances’ sake.” Head set at a regal tilt, she swept past him, the delicate sway of her hips and the faint scent of roses teasing his senses. Typical noble, expecting her command to be followed. She paused at the archway and glanced over her shoulder, one finely arched brow lifting expectantly. He rolled his eyes, turned on his heel and walked toward the colonnade. Damn.

  *****

  Her husband was still not following directions.

  Julia watched in exasperated silence as Damon strolled into the dining room. He had disappeared for a period of time after their conversation, sending Kaj into a frenzied search of the house and grounds. She’d tried to hold onto her anger without success. Her relief that he had not abandoned her plan—had not abandoned her—was too strong. And that made absolutely no sense.

  He owed her his allegiance, nothing more, and that because of her threats. There was no personal obligation for him to see this thing through to the end. He was there as a symbol only, a way to authenticate her claims and assure her family’s safety. She could do very well without his self-proclaimed charms.

  Or his quick mind, his strength, his ability to make her feel safe.

  She blew out a short breath. The stress must be loosening her wits. “Where have you been?” she asked, cringing at the sharpness of her voice.

  Damon seemed not to notice. He waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, here and there.”

  A thoroughly unsatisfactory answer but one she’d have to accept for now, as she could tell by the set of his jaw and the way he concentrated on cutting away a piece of roast pheasant she wasn’t likely to hear more. She took a fortifying sip of wine. “Do not linger over your meal.”

  He paused and gave her a long look that rankled her with its glint of amusement before popping the piece of fowl into his mouth. “Do you not know wife, that eating without proper thought and thorough chewing disrupts the digestive humors?”

  Digestive humors? Julia almost scoffed out loud until she noticed how he was eating as if he might not have another meal for days. Had that been what he was used to? He had mentioned spending time in the Imperial prison and she well imagined the Emperor gave little thought to the proper nourishment of his prisoners. She remembered how Kaj had complained about the amount of victuals Damon had consumed that first week. He had been so thin but a steady diet had filled in the sharp angles of starvation which had given him such a hard edge. He still looked dangerous but, she thought with a shiver of excitement, in a dark, sensual way.

  Dear gods, she was losing her mind. That or Damon truly was an evil magician bent on swaying her thoughts away from her purpose. She narrowed her gaze as if by doing so she could discern the truth to which he raised one eyebrow in obvious amusement. His response did nothing to ease her concerns.

  She had considered it a rather generous gesture on her part to allow him freedom of the house, a symbol of her trust as it were. But if he was going to take advantage of it, leave her with questions and do things that raised doubts, then she was going to have to limit his contact with the household.

  Her plans to chastise him fell to the wayside the minute Lares joined them. Her brother’s face lit up at the sight of Damon and he insisted that Kaj set him down on his feet. Tears burned the back of her eyes, as Lares took shaky steps and walked to the table, his face beaming.

  Julia began to admonish him for taxing himself but stopped

  at a subtle warning nod from Damon, who held the boy’s gaze a long moment before grasping his forearm as she’d seen men do as a sign of respect. Expression solemn, Lares nodded once, understanding some hidden male message that Julia missed.

  But she didn’t miss the pride squaring Lares’ shoulders. She raked her gaze over her brother from head to toe and saw that he suffered no ill effects from the effort. Could the physicians be wrong? Damon’s voice drew her from her thoughts.

  “By the end of the month, you’ll be strong enough to run a foot race.”

  Lares grinned and attacked his meal with a gusto she’d not seen since his illness.

  Several hours later, Julia tucked another pillow beneath her arm and watched Damon illustrate his latest story with an exaggerated circling of his arms. As they had for most of the evening, Lares and Aunt Sophia sat on the edge of their seats listening with avid interest to his latest tale of how he and a boy named Lucien had discovered a pirate’s treasure buried near a lake.

  “The jewel was as big as this,” said Damon, curling his hand into a fist, “red as blood and brilliant like a star fallen from the heavens.”

  Lares cocked his head. “The pirates buried their treasure near a lake?”

  “Yes,” Damon answered sparing him a glance, “It was buried in the hillside next to the lake. Now the jewel was worth a king’s ransom...”

  “How did pirates get their ship to a lake?”

  Damon blew out a breath. “They carried it.” His gaze lingered on Lares for a long moment before continuing. “Lucien, fearing the pirates return...”

  “But...”

  Julia’s lips twitched as Damon dropped his head into his hands in mock frustration. “Lares, it is rude to interrupt. Let Damon tell his story.”

  Damon gave her a thankful nod. “Now as I was saying, Lucien was an easily frightened sort. He decided that we should hide our find, swearing on Jupiter’s bones that we would keep it a secret until the day we died.” He paused. “And then we heard it.”

  “What?” Lares asked breathlessly.

  Damon shuddered and gripped his hands together. “It is too awful to speak of.”

  “You must tell us,” insisted Lares.

  Damon hesitated. “A low rumble coming from behind the hills to the east of the lake. Distant at first, it grew to a thunderous roar and the ground beneath our feet trembled. It sounded as if the hounds of Hades had multiplied tenfold and were coming to claim us for the underworld god.”

  Lares eyes went wide. “The pirates!”

  “If only it had been so,” he answered in an ominous tone.

  “Oh, dear Faust,” fretted Aunt Sophia. “Whatever was it?”

  Julia realized she, too, had leaned forward, captivated by the tale.

  Damon looked at each of them in turn before continuing. “A roiling black wave crested the hill and advanced upon us. We could not move—fear had rooted us like cabbages to the ground. There was no escape. Lucien was like a frightened rabbit, so scared he nearly soiled himself. And then...and then they attacked.” He covered his face with his hands as if trying to erase the horrible memory.

  Julia’s heart went out to him. “Tell us, Damon. What attacked you?”

  He shuddered. “Puppies.”

  The dining room went quiet. Damon kept his face covered while Lares and Aunt Sophia looked at each other, perplexed.

  “Puppies?” Julia repeated flatly. “You were attacked by puppies?”

  Damon lowered his hands, a wounded expression on his face. “They were mastiff puppies,” he said defensively. “Lucien’s father had a mastiff bitch that whelped a dozen solid black pups. It was great sport for the little mongrels to hunt down two small boys and lick them into oblivion.”

  Lares rolled his eyes and flung himself backward on the divan, holding his sides as he laughed. Aunt Sophia smiled broadly while her maid Helena giggled behind her hand.

  Julia’s mouth curved upward. The man was incorrigible—there was no getting around it.

  Then she noted that while everyone else smiling or shaking their heads in humor, he was not laughing. From beneath her lashes, she studied him. Despite their presence, he seemed alone, almost as if he had, with some manner of habit, distanced himself from their companionship. Oh, he smiled at Aunt Sophia an
d teased Lares about the pirate ship but his handsome, angled features were shadowed with sadness and when he shifted his gaze to her, Julia’s heart clenched at the deep longing within his soft gray eyes. He reminded her of a lost, little boy and an overwhelming urge to soothe him welled up inside her.

  But he was no little boy, not with that square, masculine jaw, sculpted cheeks and sensuous mouth that only a god should possess. And then there was his body—sleekly muscled, powerful, a warrior’s body that even the modest tunic he wore could not conceal. Just looking at him brought back vivid memories of the journey home from the dinner party and the way that broad chest had felt beneath her touch. Julia ran her tongue over her lip. Did the rest of his body feel so good?

  Damon arched one brow, the heat of pure male interest replacing the vulnerability and splintering any tender thoughts she’d had. Gods, had he read her mind? Clearing her throat, she signaled to Basil who hurried into the dining room. “Enough stories for tonight. Helena, I’m sure Aunt Sophia is tired and you, young man,” she said to Lares, “have lessons with your tutor tomorrow.”

  “Oh Julia, just one more story?” whined Lares.

  “No arguments, boy,” Damon pushed to his feet. “You must heed your sister’s words. It is time we all went to bed.”

  In one graceful move, Damon deposited Lares into Basil’s arms, guided Aunt Sophia into Helena’s care and called for the serving girl to clear the table. When he was finished he sauntered up to her and grasped her hands, lifting her to her feet. Julia swallowed hard, tried to convince herself her heart was not going to beat out of her chest. She absolutely would not let him unnerve her—this was just part of the ruse.

  But then Damon leaned so close into her that the heat of his body seemed to swirl out from his sun-kissed skin and envelop her like a cloak. She took a shaky breath and caught another musky, more primal scent beneath the usual sandalwood. Her nipples tightened and a very unnerving throb started between her legs. Dear gods.