Michelle Styles - The Perfect Concubine

Rome, 68 B.C.

Valeria’s life is in the hands of Piso the Greek—the very man who had risen from a common sailor to wealthy ship owner following their doomed romance. He is the only man brave enough to sail the dangerous seas to Alexandria to reunite Valeria with her missing brother and restore her family’s fortune. But Piso demands a high price for his help: Valeria must become his concubine and share his bed once more…

Dear Reader,

Several years ago when I was writing Sold & Seduced , I really wanted to write Piso’s story However, events overtook me and I became distracted on other projects. Then, the Historical Undone line happened and I thought how much fun it would be to finally write it. Thankfully my editors agreed. So I reread Sold & Seduced and the thing that haunted me was, why was Piso so against Roman Matrons? This story sets about answering that question! I do hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and if the Roman setting intrigues you, Sold and Seduced is now available as an ebook from www.millsandboon.co.uk.

As ever I am always delighted to get letters from readers. I can be contacted via post to Harlequin/ Mills & Boon, through my website, www.michellestyles.co.uk or my blog http://www.michellestyles.blogspot.com You can also find me on Facebook.

All the best,

Michelle

Although born and raised near San Francisco, California, MICHELLE STYLEScurrently lives a few miles south of Hadrian’s Wall, with her husband, three children, two dogs, cats, assorted ducks, hens and beehives. An avid reader, she has always been interested in history, and a historical romance is her idea of the perfect way to relax. She is particularly interested in how ordinary people lived during ancient times, and in the course of her research she has learnt how to cook Roman food as well as how to use a drop spindle. When she is not writing, reading or doing research, Michelle tends her rather overgrown garden or does needlework, in particular counted cross-stitch. Michelle maintains a website, www.michellestyles.co.uk, and a blog, www.michellestyles.blogspot.com, and would be delighted to hear from you.

Michelle Styles

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To Caroline who wanted more Romans

Rome 68 BC

Thirteen. Thirteen men had arrived after Valeria and all had had their petitions dealt with. Valeria dug her nails into her palms and ignored the increasingly curious stares as the fifth hour approached. Piso the Greek had to listen to her. Her life depended on it.

It was one thing to confidently predict success to her desperate parents, quite another to actually confront the man who had more reason than most to hate her and her family. But without his help, they had no chance of discovering whether her brother still lived.

‘Will you reconsider, lady?’ the steward asked with a curl of his lip.

‘What I have to say is for your master’s ears alone. Please tell him again that Valeria requires an audience.’ Valeria straightened her stola , subtly demonstrating to the officious steward that she was not some daughter of Venus seeking to ply her trade, but a respectable Roman matron. She refused to allow Piso to dismiss her without hearing her plea. ‘Tell him that I will wait out here day and night until he listens to my petition.’

The steward scuttled off, only to return a few drips of the water clock later.

‘He will see you now, my lady.’ The steward bowed low. His face showed more than a little disapproval, as if a respectable Roman matron had no business waiting at the gate of a notorious Greek ship owner.

Valeria ignored the pinching of her elaborately crossed sandals. A simple pair of slippers might have been more practical. However, Piso needed to know that she retained her dignity despite the collapse of her father’s shipping empire, a collapse she bore some responsibility for. She bit her lip. If she had not convinced her brother to take command of that ship, years ago, after he had fought so terribly with their father, he would have remained in Rome and been ready to take charge when her father started to weaken.

She followed the steward into the atrium where water splashed in a fountain decorated with carved dolphins. The vivid frescoes had retained their fresh plaster smell and the mosaics that covered the floor showed no sign of cracking.

Piso stood with his back to her. His body showed no sign of fat; rather, it bore a distinct resemblance to one of classic Greek gods whose statues dotted the atrium. His highly embroidered dark green tunic proclaimed his new wealth and status and only served to emphasise the breadth of his shoulders. Years ago, he had proudly boasted that one day he would wear such clothes. Everyone had laughed, thinking it was another of his famous jokes. A Greek sailor become a wealthy ship owner? Such things only happened in plays. Piso’s serious brown eyes had been at odds with his laughter and Valeria had whispered that she believed him. It had been the start of their doomed romance.

Valeria put her hand to her throat and knew that Fortunata had deserted her as surely as the goddess clung to Piso and guided his every move.

‘State your business.’ His voice was carved from ice-cold marble.

‘I wish to go to Cyrene immediately,’ she said, staring at his arrogant back. She needn’t have bothered with the stola and the sandals. He wasn’t even going to look at her. ‘Captain Piso, they say you are the only man who is brave enough to sail to Alexandria now, and from there I can go overland.’

‘The time to sail has been gone for weeks,’ he said with even less warmth than before. ‘Only a madman would risk his men in such a way.’

‘But you’ve done it before,’ she said hurriedly, before he dismissed her with an imperious wave of his hand. ‘Two years ago. The entire Aventine speaks of your exploits.’

‘Only the Aventine?’ he asked, turning around. A sardonic smile played on his lips. All the softness of youth had gone and in its place he had chiselled cheekbones and piercing brown eyes. ‘Your horizons have shrunk, Valeria, if you are paying attention to Aventine gossip.’

Valeria hated the way she tried to see something of the passionate youth she had once loved more than life itself in those carefully controlled features. Before setting out, she had whispered to her reflection that their shared past was forgotten. But under his gaze, a slow tingle went down her spine as she remembered his soft touch against her skin. She banished it.

‘You were the only capable person left to ask.’ Valeria forced her voice to remain even. ‘The others are cowards and scoundrels.’

A brief light flared in his dark brown eyes. ‘What are you offering, Valeria? What are you offering that you have not offered every other ship owner from here to Ostia? Your body? I have had that before and suffered for it.’

Anger flashed through her at the insinuation. She was no concubine or whore who spread her legs for any man. She longed to storm out and never set eyes on him again but, for her mother’s sanity and her brother’s life, she swallowed her pride. She crossed the atrium, knelt at his feet and held up the small bag of gold. ‘The man I used to know would never humiliate a woman, particularly a respectable matron.’