Lyn Randal - Conquered And Seduced

‘I’d rather have you before then.’

She glanced up sharply. She’d caught the undercurrent of sensual meaning, but he wouldn’t recant.

‘Can I trust you?’ she asked suddenly, her eyes narrowing in appraisal. ‘We’re to have a business arrangement, but then you kiss me?’

‘You did not protest.’

She had the grace to blush.

He moved closer and took her gently into his arms. ‘I wish to understand you,’ he said quietly. ‘Tell me your fears, Severina, and I will fight them for you.’

He felt her slight shudder. ‘You can’t fight them, Lucan. I have to work them out for myself.’

He was silent for a moment, considering. ‘At least let me fight the censor for you.’

‘Of course. I can’t do that without you.’

‘Then trust me. Let me move into the inn and pretend I’m the owner. Let me escort you to the architect tomorrow so we can draft building plans. Let us do that much, only that much. You can decide the rest later.’

She turned her face up to him and for a moment he almost stopped breathing, struck by her beauty and the fear in her eyes. He wanted to touch her, to caress the soft skin of her cheek, to smooth the furrow from her brow, to kiss those gently parted lips…

‘Do you really think doing those things will help?’

‘We can’t let Marcus Terentius take it without a fight.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘We can’t.’

Their gazes locked. Lucan’s chest tightened painfully. And then because he couldn’t help himself, he lowered his head and gave in to the temptation to kiss her again—lightly, sweetly, a mere whisper of desire.

‘I’ll return for you in the morning. We’ll take your construction ideas to an architect friend of mine and get an estimate of the cost,’ he said. ‘You’ll agree to that, won’t you? No harm in knowing all you can before making a decision, right?’

He knew he had her there. Nobody admired ignorance.

‘Yes, I’ll do that much,’ she said. ‘It can’t hurt.’

Lucan smiled and moved to the door. ‘Sleep sweetly, Severina.’

But he knew, from the flare of desire in her eyes as he pulled away, that Severina would have as hard a time resting as he, and that her biggest fear would be for her heart, not her inn.

When Severina awoke, the sun illuminated the sky outside her window with soft peach light. She rose and washed quickly, wincing at her stiffness as she shrugged into a tunic of pale blue linen. She’d slept little and was tired.

But the work of the inn wouldn’t wait and it couldn’t all be done by her few slaves, even if it was hard not to eye her mattress and cool sheets without regret. Her bed was comfortable, the most sumptuous in the inn. Its stout ebony frame was carved with Egyptian motifs that reminded her of her childhood.

Its mattress was thick and soft, but during the night she’d have sworn someone had replaced the cotton with boulders. She’d tossed for hours, unable to quiet the anxious whirl of thought. The few times her weariness had overcome her, she’d been jerked back to wakefulness by strange things. The memory of a man’s green-gold eyes. The scent of Lucan on her pillow. And once, she thought she heard his laughter in another part of the house.

She’d foolishly thought herself prepared to meet him again. She’d bolstered herself for it. In a city as large as Rome, they must inevitably meet. They shared friends. They shopped the same markets and enjoyed the same entertainments. She’d always known the day would come when she’d feel someone’s gaze and suddenly look up into dark-fringed, oddly slanted tiger eyes. She’d practised the smile, prepared the words. Lucan. How nice to see you again. You‘re looking very well…

But the moment had gone nothing like she’d planned.

And then he’d appeared in her bedroom and she’d smashed a bronze figurine into his skull. He’d proposed something outrageous and she’d almost agreed, just before she’d made a fool of herself because the old feelings had still been there. Oh, how they’d been there.

It seemed unreal now, like something out of a dream. But it wasn’t. The statuette remained there on a nearby table, mute evidence that she hadn’t imagined everything.

And besides that, one had to have actually slept in order to dream.

The only good thing about the restless night was that she’d decided on several improvements to the inn. She wasn’t sure she could marry Lucan, but it wouldn’t hurt to consider his proposition.

He’d told her to spare no expense, that his coffers were deep and he could afford anything she needed.

She wasn’t so sure. She’d never seen evidence of his wealth. He’d been a soldier , and everyone knew that even experienced officers like Lucan didn’t command a huge salary. He’d occasionally spoken of business ventures, but none had seemed particularly lucrative.

Rich men lived in grand houses, and Lucan lived simply.

Rich men had fine garb, and Lucan dressed in ordinary clothing, letting his fair looks serve him well enough.

A simple man without great wealth, but she hadn’t cared. Mostly she’d admired his integrity and his golden male beauty, not sure she was worthy of him. She usually felt plain and mousy. Her chestnut hair tended to be unruly. Her eyes were grey. Grey. How boring.

And yet, Lucan had thought her beautiful and wanted her. Sometimes the look in his eyes had taken her breath. She’d known with surety that he kept his body tightly reined.

Now she was pleased that he had. Physical union with Lucan would have been too wonderful to forsake. She wouldn’t have been able to walk away. But more than once she’d wondered—what would it have been like to be loved by a man like that?

Last night she’d come close to knowing.

For hours afterwards she’d thought of him and foolishly yearned for what almost happened between them. To make love with him would be foolish, even dangerous, if she hoped to remain free, but her body had wanted its way.

Lucan would return soon. She’d better forget that desire and concentrate on her inn instead.

Lucan told her to make construction plans, but she’d been modest in her choices because Lucan wasn’t a rich man. He had no fine mansion, no slaves. He had no gilded litter, no rich clothing, no jewelled rings. No clients waited in his atrium every morning to shower him with praise as they would for a wealthy nobleman.

Perhaps he’d saved his soldier’s pay. Maybe he’d hoarded his share of the rich spoils of Dacia. But it was likely that masculine pride forced him to claim more wealth than he truly possessed.

So she kept her construction plans to a minimum. She could use a larger kitchen, but moving out one wall would provide enough space. A larger dining area could be had by the same method, allowing for several more dining couches.

There were already ample bedrooms, thanks to the inn’s dubious past as a brothel. And the bathing room across the courtyard was a marvel of design. Sumptuous with pristine Carrara marble, it contained one large heated pool and a smaller unheated one. Surrounding the pools were comfortable seats for conversing.

That bath and the toileting facility beside it that had actual running water were two of the main selling points of the property, and Severina was extremely proud of them. She might add more to them in the future, but she wouldn’t do it now at Lucan’s expense.

She wanted to give Orthrus and Ariadne some privacy, however. The slaves’ quarters were small and uncomfortable. Ariadne currently shared a room with the cook, but after the wedding, she’d share Orthrus’s bed. Orthrus, however, currently slept with young Juvenal. It wouldn’t be proper for Juvenal and the cook to share a room, so Severina had been fretting about what to do.