'Training,' Valens said, withdrawing a royal blue wool cloak and a pair of sandals from his trunk. He fastened the cloak around his neck and proceeded to tie his sandals, lacing them around his calves. 'The morning session begins at dawn, but I like to arrive early in order to stretch properly. I was about to leave when you opened the door.'
'Do you know the way to the front door?' she said impulsively.
Immediately she mentally groaned. How transparent. Less than a day since meeting this man she had started to throw herself at him. He was probably certain now she had sent Bato to him. He looked at her with a quirked eyebrow and an amused smile on his face.
He did think that! Oh, help.
Julia swallowed hard and plunged on.
'The villa is a bit of a labyrinth, in case you hadn't noticed. It started off quite small, but successive owners have added to it.'
A babbling brook, that was what she was. Julia wished he'd say something. She twisted a lock of her hair around her forefinger and tried to think of how to recover. So far, in their short acquaintance she had tumbled into him, denied him a room and set her dog on him. She had her runaway tongue to blame if he thought her touched in the head. Julia realised with a jolt that she wanted him to think more of her than that. She wanted him to like her, to be attracted to her in the same way she was attracted to him.
'I noticed that,' Valens said, his voice flowing over her jangled nerves like a balm. 'Perhaps you'd be good enough to show me the way. It will save me getting lost or having to find one of the servants.'
Words of apology died on Julia's lips. He wanted to spend time with her.
With the next breath, ice washed through her veins. He had probably accepted the offer because he needed to leave quickly before his training began, before he had to ask her politely but firmly to leave. He was trying to let her down gently, behaving as a guest should towards the daughter of the house.
'As it will save time, it will be my pleasure.' She swept out of the room with her head held high, eyes firmly fixed on the hanging lamp in the corridor.
His sandalwood scent enveloped her, holding her as surely as if she was in his arms. Julia felt some beads of sweat begin to gather on her forehead as she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.
'If you walk quickly, I'll lose you,' he said and tucked her arm in his.
Every nerve sizzled where her bare skin brushed his. Julia swallowed hard. Her whole body tingled from his nearness.
'It is easy to find your way, once you know how to go.'
Valens watched Julia's face as they walked along. This morning, her dark hair curled softly about her shoulders. No need to wonder at the outline of her curves. The thin off-white tunic clung in all the right places. He felt his body harden at the sight of it moulding to her calves as she walked.
He watched the way her body moved as she strode down the corridor, intent on showing him the way out, a way he already knew.
Despite his resolve to forget her, her face and her voice had haunted his thoughts last night and he had had a dozen conversations with her in his head. He watched her sleep-kissed mouth, and the curve of her slender throat, and wondered where he should begin.
In many ways, it would be easier if she went into worship mode. He was used to that. He could ignore it. He was used to women offering him their bodies.
He wanted more from her than just a quick meaningless meeting. He enjoyed talking to her as an equal, being himself and not Valens the Gladiator for once. He'd almost forgotten he had an existence before the arena, before the spectacle of life and death. Only in nightmares did he remember.
'How much training do you do?' she asked as they started down the stairs.
'In the run up to the games?' Valens replied, relieved to be talking about something he knew, something he could discuss with authority. If he kept the conversation on training, he'd be less inclined to notice her lips or the way her thin tunic hinted at her thighs. His body demanded to know what she felt like against him.
'That's right—in the run up to the games.' She smoothed a lock of hair from her face and revealed more of her creamy neck.
Valens averted his eyes, concentrating on the middle distance.
'We're training nearly all the time. Making sure the moves flow like water. There is more to a gladiatorial contest than simply waving a sword about. Each move has a countermove. The public are there for the spectacle, to see the danger of controlled combat. They want more than two amateurs hacking at each other. They'd sooner watch a spinning contest than that.'
Her laugh rang out at his rather feeble quip. He risked another peek at her face and found his eyes glued to her mouth as her floral perfume tickled his nose. He wanted this woman, he realised, with a great fierce longing. He wanted her in a way he had not wanted a woman for a long time. He reached out a hand to draw her towards him.
'Will you be training here or elsewhere?' Her voice drew him back from the abyss and his outstretched hand dropped to his side. 'I know my father hoped to watch some of your sessions. He was a keen amateur gladiator in his youth. Or at least that's what he said to Mettalius Scipio last night.'
Her innocent words felt like a sword plunging into his body. He knew why he could not have her, why women like her were for ever closed to him. Every nerve in Valens's body tensed and he waited for the next blow Fate had in store for him. Would she now confide how much she cared for Mettalius? Her hopes and dreams for the future as a senator's wife?
A surge of anger went through his body.
An intelligent woman like Julia was wasted on a man like Mettalius Scipio, a man who could barely move his feet and his sword at the same time.
'Is your betrothed a keen follower of the sport?' he asked and strove to keep his voice light, to not show how the man affected him.
'Please, he is anything but that. It is my stepmother's fancy.' Julia place a hand on his arm, her face turned up towards him with an earnest expression. 'I haven't divorced one feckless fish fancier to be saddled with another one, whatever Sabina thinks. Not without a fight. For one thing, the man smells of garlic'
'I apologise. I misunderstood.' Valens noticed his heart beat faster.
He allowed his eyes to feast on her lips. The first faint light of dawn appeared in the sky, bathing everything in its soft glow. With each passing breath, Julia's face seemed softer, her lips more enticing.
Mettalius was not her choice.
He should be well on his way to practice by now, but her denial kept running through Valens's brain. He found it impossible to move from her side and refused to think of the consequences.
'Apology accepted.' She inclined her head, but her eyes glittered defiantly. 'To answer your question—I believe he considers himself to be an ardent supporter of the games. The way he was going on, you'd think it was his troupe of gladiators that were appearing in Rome.'
'Did he say anything about me?'
Julia stopped and peeped up at him through her long lashes. 'I could tease you and say no, but it would be unfair. He has seen you fight and was very impressed, inspired. You are technically one of best Thracians he has ever seen. Training-manual perfect, I believe he said.'
'I'm honoured to have such a distinguished senator as Mettalius supporting me.'
'Mettalius isn't very—' She stopped mid-sentence and gave a laugh, putting a hand over her lips. 'Oh, you said you knew him. I'd forgotten.'
'I am honoured,' Valens protested, but as soon as he said it he gave a deep laugh, joining in with Julia's infectious giggle. 'I may have exaggerated a bit. I will bow to your superior knowledge of the man. Senatorial support can be invaluable in the arena'
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