Michelle Styles - The Gladiator's Honor

'Why?'

"The patrons of the games are more often than not senators and quite literally have the power of life or death over a gladiator. It is good to have one or two on your side. For one thing, it increases the appearance fee and makes death less likely.'

He watched Julia's eyes sober. Should he have dressed the truth in a polite series of lies for her? The patron of games held the life of each fighter in his fist. The thumb turned up or down was all that mattered at the end of a fight. It was all he looked for as he listened to the screams of the crowd.

'Better a senator than a dictator,' she said, with a small tremble in her voice. She turned her body away from him, bowed her head and seemed to gather her thoughts. Immediately she turned back and met his gaze full on. 'I may have only been a child, but I remember Sulla's rein of terror when we all became like gladiators, living on the whim of Sulla. In the end the Republic was restored and long may it last.'

Valens wanted to reach out and enfold her in his arms, to hold her and tell her that everything would remain as it had always been except for those years under Sulla. Instead he tightened his grip on his belt. He needed no distractions from his work. Worrying about Julia and the traumas she had been through was not going to help him win his next bout in the arena. He straightened his shoulders and strode more purposefully down the corridor, ignoring the questions in her eyes.

'Long life and prosperity to the Senate and people of Rome, I'll agree with that,' Valens said, when he had his breathing under control and they had entered the main courtyard. 'With men such as Julius Caesar, I have no doubt the Republic will endure for another seven hundred years. He is a man who knows the value of putting on good entertainment for the crowd With the crowd on his side, who knows how far he can go?'

'My father has certainly found favour with his patronage, but Rome's politics are worse than the arena, I think. Many have risen to the top, only to fall back. Just look at my great-uncle—Marius—lauded as the saviour of Rome with honour after honour heaped on him, only to be reviled as a traitor and hounded to his death by Sulla.'

'Caesar is a prudent gambler. He will keep his feet.'

'I hope so. He is the best hope the Julian family has had in generations. We all need him and his good will.'

Valens closed his eyes and remembered when those words had been said about him—the time when he had been his family's best hope.

It was what made the fall so much harder—the knowledge he had let his entire family down. And the men who depended on him to keep them safe. His father had been right to turn his back on him, not to pay the pirate ransom.

He gave his head a shake as a tendril of Julia's hair caught his attention.

The cock crowed and Valens knew he needed to leave.

He'd stayed too long as it was. For once, the other gladiators would be there before him, practising, dedicating their lives to the games and forgetting they had ever had another life.

'I'm sure he has been a good patron to your father,' he said quietly, 'but he will be less than pleased with me if I arrive late to this training session.'

At Valens's words, Julia started, and looked at her hands. She had swayed towards him, her lips parted, convinced he was about to take her into his arms. Confusion swept over her.

'Absolutely, you must go.' She brushed her hair back with her hand. The simple act seemed to restore some normality to her thoughts. She drew a deep calming breath, taking in the damp earth smell of morning. 'How foolish of me! Keeping you here asking questions and prattling on about the Republic and its future when you are needed elsewhere.'

She turned to go, keeping a firm grip on Bato's collar. She would get over this attraction, this silly crush. She was a grown woman, not a girl in her early teens with her hair falling about her shoulders and dolls lining her bedroom shelves. She had dedicated her dolls to Venus the day she had married Lucius and left her childhood behind.

Her reaction was a normal one to kindness—that was all. Nothing more serious. In a day's time, she'd wonder what she ever saw in him. A gladiator, one of the infamis . A man outside polite society. A man whose profession was death. Someone who more than likely could not read or write. Even as she thought the words, she knew they were a lie fit for Sabina.

'Julia,' he said thickly and put his hand on her elbow. She felt the sparks sizzle up her arm as the attraction started to ignite in her. 'I… I've enjoyed speaking with you. Thank you.'

She halted, felt her grip loosen on Bato's collar, but kept her eyes straight ahead, focused on the fountain in the middle of the courtyard, refusing to look at the planes of his face. The warmth in the pit of her stomach grew with each thud of her heartbeat.

'It was my pleasure. Thank you for taking care of Bato,' she said, managing to keep her voice steady, ignoring the way his fingers ran down the bare skin of her arm, drew small circles on the inside of her wrist.

Then she met his gaze, and her look tumbled into his, captured, unable to do anything but stare back. She tried to form a witty sentence, but the words died on her lips at the sight of his intent expression. His face was so close, she could feel his warm breath fanning her cheek. This time he had to kiss her.

He leant forward and his lips brushed hers, lingered. A whisper of a kiss like the finest wool caressing her body. She wanted more. Her body demanded she have more. She swayed towards him, allowed him to gather her body in his arms and his lips claimed possession. Her breasts brushed against his hard muscular chest, as she arched closer. Her lips opened and she tasted the sweetness of his mouth.

Chapter Four

The kiss sent shivers down Julia's spine. Valens's tongue glided over her lower lip and then touched the parting of her mouth before retreating. In her ears, she heard the thump of a heart—hers or his. Her body moulded itself into his hardness. It felt as if nothing had existed before and nothing would exist after.

There was only his mouth against hers.

His head lifted and he rubbed his thumb along her kiss-swollen lips, sending a fresh wave of sensation through her.

For a heartbeat, neither said anything. Gradually she noticed small things—the damp ground against her feet, the way his breath fanned her cheek, the touch of his hand against her back holding her, the slam of a door far away, but she found it impossible to tear her gaze from Valens's. Every fibre of her being wanted to taste his lips again. She lifted her face towards his.

The cockerel crowed a second time and broke the spell.

He stepped back from her, smoothing a lock of hair off her forehead as he did so. The cold morning air rushed between them, cooling her body. Julia swallowed hard and tried to gather her thoughts. Modesty demanded she object, but the words refused to come.

'Why did you kiss me?' she whispered into the silence and ran her tongue experimentally over her lips. They felt full and thoroughly kissed. Kissed in a way she had never been kissed before. The way she dreamt kisses felt like.

Before she had suspected something was wrong with her for detesting Lucius's invasions of her mouth, but now she knew—with the right person, kissing was another matter entirely.

'For luck,' he said with a lopsided smile. 'We'll be training later at Caesar's compound, if your father wants to watch.'

He lifted the latch of the heavy door and was gone before she could answer him.

She leant her cheek against the cool stone wall of the villa, waiting for the pounding of her heart to subside, reliving each movement, each word. The faint scent of his bath oil lingered—sandalwood mixed with something indefinably masculine. She knew hardly anything about this man, but her whole being cried out for his touch. She shivered as she ran her hand along her arm where his fingers had rested, reliving the experience.