The Perfect Concubine

Michelle Styles

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 eHarlequin.com.

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

To Caroline who wanted more Romans

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

About the Author

Chapter One

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.’

‘You were always keen on your respectability, weren’t you, Valeria?’

The words sliced through her. She knew she should have expected them, but she had clung to the hope that somehow he understood how she had suffered and the sacrifice she had made for him.

‘I have brought gold, Piso. For my passage. More than enough. Count it. Tell me when we leave. I’ll be there. I’ll brave the journey.’

The air hissed through his lips as he angrily gestured for her to stand. ‘Your money is no good here. Go. Find someone else who might believe your lies.’

Valeria slowly lowered the bag and rose to her feet. All her hopes for this morning tasted like ash in her throat. ‘Why did you agree to see me?’

‘To satisfy my curiosity.’

His immodest gaze raked her form. Valeria forced her head to remain high. She was no longer a naive girl of fifteen in the throes of her first love, but a matron, a divorcée of twenty-one. She’d made the correct choice. This man stood before her, alive and arrogant, because of what she had sacrificed. Once she had whispered that it was enough that she knew he lived and breathed, but now she knew she’d lied. Against all reason, a tiny unacknowledged piece of her had hoped that he retained some feeling for her. That she’d meant more to him than a quick tumble in the temple gardens. That she hadn’t made a mistake in begging her brother Marcus to captain the early ship so that she and Piso could have one last night together.

‘And now that your curiosity is satisfied, I’m to depart quietly?’ Valeria tapped her sandal against the mosaic floor, struggling to retain control of her temper. ‘That is low even for a man of your reputation, Piso.’

‘You are as I expected you.’ His eyes smouldered. ‘You have more than grown into your promise, Valeria.’

Against her better judgement, a warm curl of pleasure stirred deep within her. She banished it.

‘Listen to me as you listen to other people’s pleas, and do not hold our past against me.’ She raised her hands in supplication.

‘Is there any point?’ He shrugged his shoulder. The dark green silk rippled across his chest. ‘My men are more important than gold. If your father wants me to sail him to Cyrene, tell him—from me—to be a man. To come himself and beg rather than sending…his perfidious daughter.’

She forced her lips to smile and show that his words failed to sting. She’d learnt other things hurt far more than words.

The thought of returning to the tiny apartment they now called home, and explaining her failure to her mother, was unthinkable. But to go on sitting day after day, helping to mend other women’s tunics or weave cloth, knowing her pride had prevented her from trying everything was unbearable. ‘How can you refuse? You owe my family a life debt. You should have captained that ship, not my brother. He switched places with you.’

‘Your brother died by circumstances of his own making. He proposed the change, not me. He’d quarrelled with your father. He wanted nothing more to do with his schemes. Keep your facts honest.’

Valeria clenched her fists and longed to scream. He was taunting her. He knew of another reason Marcus had done it—for them, because she begged. But she refused to mention that night, and instead focussed on the recent revelation that had finally given her family hope again. ‘Rumour has it that far from being dead, my brother now lives in Cyrene as a gladiator. He’d not have allowed you to suffer such a fate.’

‘He was a better man than I.’ Piso’s lips quirked upward. He was clearly enjoying her discomfort. ‘Obviously.’

‘All I ask is passage to Alexandria. Take me there and I’ll say the life debt is paid. ’

‘Why not use one of your father’s ships to sail to Alexandria? He has so many, and such loyal captains.’ His eyes taunted her.

‘My father is no longer in shipping.’ Valeria kept her head high. The ships were gone. After Marcus’s reported death, her father had lost all sense of judgement, alienating those closest to him, and developing a taste for gaming and high living, a habit that Ofellius had actively encouraged.

Piso must have heard the Aventine whispers. He probably knew that her father had not spoken a word since he discovered the true extent of Ofellius’s treachery. Dare she refer to it? Valeria ignored the ever-tightening knots in her stomach. ‘As you know, Ofellius cheated us badly.’

Instantly Piso’s face became a cold mask and she knew she had made a mistake mentioning his name. For the first time since she had heard the news of her brother’s survival, she faced the loss of all hope, for would Piso help her now?

‘It was your father’s choice to back Ofellius,’ he bit out. ‘He knew what the man was capable of doing.’

Valeria gulped a breath of life-giving air. ‘I also know what the man is capable of. I was married to him.’

‘Some people can’t see beyond the veneer of respectability and having their palms lined with gold.’

She flinched as the barb struck her but she managed to keep her voice steady. ‘My father knows of his mistake. He has paid for it in the harshest way imaginable.’ As have I.

‘No one held a sword to his back, Valeria. No one beat him within an inch of his life.’

No, they beat me and when that didn’t work, they beat the one man I adored. Valeria pressed her lips together and held back the words. He didn’t deserve the truth. She didn’t have to prove her worthiness to him. ‘Have you always made the right choices, Piso?’

‘I can look myself in the mirror.’ Piso hooked his thumbs into his belt, giving himself time regain control of his composure. When his steward had announced that Valeria waited amongst his clients with a petition, he should have sent her away, but the temptation to see her again after all these years proved irresistible. Her reasons for coming were no mystery—the entire Aventine buzzed about her quest to find a captain foolhardy enough to brave the winds. He’d even bet his steward that she’d show. The news about Marcus’s survival, however, was a surprise.

His interest in seeing Valeria was supposed to be purely academic, as one might have for a once-beloved statue—dispassionate and uncaring. But he was unprepared for the intense desire laced with anger that coursed through him the instant he saw her treacherous face again.

Valeria had destroyed his world once. He had believed her lies and half-truths about how she’d always love him and want to be with him. Despite the beating he’d received, he had clung to the knowledge of her love to keep him alive. Then, through the haze of pain, her unmistakable voice had filled the room with the life-destroying words that she was marrying Ofellius and wanted nothing more to do with Piso, had never loved him and never wanted to see him again. Less than a week later, his ribs taped and his soul aching, and with two women to support him, he’d watched the radiant bride as she threw nuts to the crowd on the way to her new house. Her gaze had slid over him and he’d called himself a fool.

Later the Aventine rumour mill had worked overtime detailing her fabulous dinner parties and the clothes she wore, and he’d had a hard time remembering that once she had been a fresh-faced innocent.

Last year, like the scheming witch she was, when she realised Ofellius was on his way out, she divorced him, fleeing back to her father and his wealth. Except that her father’s once-mighty empire of ships lay in ruins, lost through both his and Ofellius’s bad judgement and neglect.

‘It will be a cold day in Hades before I voluntarily help you or your father, Valeria.’

Her face contorted with barely suppressed fury. ‘This is about not my father or me, but Marcus.’

‘Six years, Valeria. Marcus might not welcome you, even if he is alive. He bore little love for your father’s new friends. You know how they fought over the direction the business should take.’

‘Marcus could fight, better than anyone. He trained with gladiators. My brother could survive and I have to know if he did.’ She stood there with her head proud, shoulders back. Her layers of tunics clung to her curves, enhancing her figure rather than hiding it, but there was no denying the slight fraying around the hem and the uneven dyeing of the cloth. Valeria had fallen in the world and he should rejoice in it.

But she stood wrapped in her stola of Roman respectability with a beseechingly earnest expression on her face, and the temptation to believe her coiled itself around his brain.

‘I’ve no interest in the answer,’ he said, quashing his feeling.

‘It would have been kinder to turn me away at the door.’

‘I’ve never been kind, Valeria. Kindness is something that gets stamped out at an early age on the streets of Rome.’ Piso pressed his hands to his eyes and regained control over his emotions. ‘You intrigued me. It took courage to come here.’

‘Thank you.’ She took a step toward him, holding out her hands. There was a latent sensuality about her eyes and mouth. Against his will, Piso remembered the cherry and summer wine taste of her lips. ‘Is it wrong to wish to find out if my brother survived?’

‘And this was how you planned on convincing me? You had to know I would not need gold. You must have thought of something else.’ He watched her with steady eyes. Even now, despite everything, he wanted her in his arms again, tasting her skin and delving deep within her.

Her tongue flicked over her lips, turning them cherry ripe. ‘I will do anything to get my brother back. When he was here, the family thrived.’

‘Anything?’

She gave a nod as her long lashes swept down, hiding her lying eyes.

‘Shall we test that theory?’

Piso reached for her, gathered her unresisting body to his and lowered his mouth. Her lips reminded him of why she lingered in his dreams. He deepened the kiss, parting her lips with his tongue, slaking his thirst until her hands came up and gripped his shoulders. Her black hair tumbled down her back, the hairpins scattering over the floor. She moaned slightly in the back of her throat. With his last ounce of self-restraint, he put her from him.

‘Now you will take me to Cyrene?’ Joy and relief sounded in her voice.

‘That served a different purpose.’ He steadied his breathing.

‘To demonstrate your mastery over me?’ she asked in a shaky voice. She dropped to her knees, picking up the scattered pins.

‘You planned to offer me your body.’ He held the last pin out to her. ‘I decided to sample to see if I liked what was on offer.’

‘I…I…’ She froze, fingers outstretched towards the pin and her green cat eyes wide.

‘We both know what you are, Valeria. You proved it six years ago.’

‘Have you finished your humiliation? Your kiss was unwelcome,’ she said in a breathless whisper that gave lie to her words. Her lips were too red and swollen; her heart beat too fast in the hollow of her throat.

Piso belatedly realised that he also had erred. His body demanded more than a solitary kiss, but it was within his power to get it.

‘Before we discuss North Africa, you must be prepared to give me something.’ He held out his hand. ‘I want more than a quick tumble in the atrium for my trouble. I want you as my concubine. Come share my bed.’

Chapter Two

‘Your concubine? Impossible!’ Valeria stared at him. As if she’d simply to fall into his bed at the crook of his finger. She valued her independence and her status as a Roman matron far too much. All of the Aventine would hum that she’d become little better than a slave. Or perhaps he expected she would pick up her skirts and run like some frightened Vestal Virgin? She squared her shoulders, emphasising the way the stola hung about her. ‘I’ve no plans to be anyone’s concubine.’

‘That’s the Valeria I expected. Reputation before your brother’s life. Before anything.’ A self-satisfied smile crossed his face and she knew he had anticipated her response. ‘Thankfully, in my world, it’s what you do and who you are rather than whispers that count. I withdraw the offer. Find some other fool, Valeria. Some unquestioning fool who will believe your lies.’

Rage swept through her as she realised what she had thrown away. ‘You tricked me!’

‘No trick. A genuine offer.’ He waved an imperious hand. ‘I won’t insult your precious sensibilities by repeating it.’

She ground her teeth, hating herself for being blind to the trap. Simple, effective, and she’d tumbled into it. She tried to concentrate as her fingers explored her aching mouth. He’d been a party to the soul-searing kiss. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. The knowledge gave her courage. She could best him at this game.

‘He does matter more than my reputation,’ she said, pasting on her most ingratiating smile. ‘And should you bring him back, I’ll be delighted to act as your concubine.’

‘Before I go.’ He tapped his finger against the small table where a game of twelve lines with its counters, dice tower and six dice was laid out. The game board’s motto of Play, pleasure, fortune, life is for the living mocked her.

‘Before? What guarantee do I have that you will even go?’ Valeria tilted her chin upwards and glared at him. ‘Trust runs both ways, Piso.’

‘Certain things you take on faith.’ His hand sent the stack of counters flying across the board. ‘Or perhaps you doubt your ability to hold a man.’

‘Do you still play dice? They never seemed to be out of your hand that summer,’ she said. The glimmering of an idea formed. She was no master at the strategy game, but her mother’s predicted omens were excellent for her request. Surely it had to mean the dice would fall her way.

‘I do. It amuses me.’ His eyes grew heavy lidded. ‘Are you suggesting we play twelve lines? You used to be an untried but enthusiastic player. Has your skill improved?’

‘I gave up years ago.’ Valeria twisted the stola about her fingers. She refused to remember their foolish wagers from that golden summer when everything had seemed possible. ‘Perhaps you’d like to make a wager. Trust the gods to decide.’

‘I’m prepared to give you a sporting chance.’ He paused and his smile became merciless. ‘Something your father was never prepared to give me when I wooed his daughter.’

‘My father is not part of this wager.’ Valeria shifted uneasily. After she’d agreed to her father’s demands, she’d prayed nightly to Venus that somehow Piso would rescue her. The next time she saw Piso—on her wedding day—he’d had a prostitute on each arm and was laughing and carefree. She’d nearly collapsed when she realised what she’d done. She had sacrificed her freedom to keep him alive and she had to endure the torment of seeing how little he cared.

‘I’ve no desire to make your father my concubine.’

‘Do you wish to hear my wager or do you wish to make cheap jokes?’ Valeria reached out and curled her fingers about three dice. They were cool in her hand and she tried to think of finding Marcus and how her life would stop being cursed And ever since the disappearance of the Diana statue, which had protected her family, her life had certainly felt cursed. She felt responsible for the loss. Had taking it been worth it? ‘One roll of the dice. You win, I become your concubine before we go to North Africa. I win, we discuss the arrangement after we return.’

He raised an imperious eyebrow. ‘I risk my life and the lives of my men, Valeria. You are merely risking…your body? Hardly a fair wager, but what did you ever know about honest play?’

Valeria tamped down on her temper. He wanted to provoke her so she would storm out, but she had to get him to agree. She drew a shaky breath. ‘You will play then?’

‘I will do it if you agree to exchange the dice.’

Valeria ignored the warning twinge that went through her and accepted his dice. ‘If you insist…Fortunata will favour me whichever dice I use.’

‘You may go first, Valeria. Never let it be said that I failed to give a lady proper courtesy.’

She threw the dice onto the game board. They tumbled over and over for an age. Stopped on the word Fortune. Her heart sank. One of the lowest scores possible but not the lowest one. Hope remained. Silently she mouthed a prayer to any passing god.

‘Do you wish to roll again?’ his mocking voice asked her.

‘I said one roll and I’ll abide by its verdict.’

‘You were always a stickler for the rules, Valeria. It is good to know that you have not changed. I’ll use the same dice to prove they were honest.’ He plucked the dice from the game board. ‘Watch and learn whom the gods favour.’

He tossed the dice. They landed on the word Pleasure with a crash. She stopped believing in Fortunata’s favour.

‘Do you dispute my total?’

‘How…how long must I be your concubine?’

‘You should have sought clarification before you wagered.’ His smile grew positively sensuous. His fingers splayed across her back. ‘Shall we say until I tire of you? Or until your brother arrives home? Then again, I find women are like guests and fish—best enjoyed for three days only. Do you think you can keep my interest for longer?’

‘Will you take me to Alexandria if I do?’ she asked, concentrating on the game board rather than giving into the light caress. So, she had three days to convince him to take her to Alexandria. Three days to accomplish what countless other women had failed to do.

‘I’m open to persuasion, Valeria.’ He cupped her waist, pulling her against the hard planes of his body, every inch the arrogant male. ‘No woman has ever reckoned me a poor lover.’

Persuasion. Valeria twisted away from him. She had singularly failed in persuasion before. Ofellius used to laugh at her, treating her roughly, using her much like a beast in a field. She had suffered for a long time, closing her eyes and thinking of Piso’s kisses rather than her husband’s touch. Finally faced with his blatant orgies while she suffered from a miscarriage, she left and divorced him.

‘Aren’t Roman matrons supposed to be virtuous?’ she asked, modestly lowering her lashes. Her mind whirled. The man before her wasn’t Ofellius but Piso. She had held him for longer than three days all those years ago. She could play his game and win. Her family’s future depended on it.

‘Virtue and you are two words which fail to sit well together.’

‘I’ve no training in being a concubine. I was supposed to be a wife and a mother.’ She hated the way her heart ached over the word mother. She had longed to hold her child in her arms. She would have been a good mother.

He laughed. The rich sound rippled down her spine, dispelling her grief and sending a shiver of anticipation through her. ‘You’ll find a way, Valeria.’

‘At least one of us has faith in my abilities.’

He rubbed the back of his thumb against her lips. ‘But I have no wish to keep you against your will. If you should decide the terms unreasonable, you may leave now and never return.’

Valeria kept her back straight. He was testing her, offering her a way out. But there was no easy way. She had to try. A tiny voice in the back of her mind asked if she might find pleasure as well. She silenced it.

Valeria strode briskly back to the tiny flat three floors up in one of the back streets of the Aventine. Her feet ached from her impractical sandals and she wished she had thought of asking Piso to provide a litter. The smell of cooked cabbage, urine and people permeated the stairwell. Her stomach revolted. Valeria covered her mouth with her stola and walked up.

Her mother knelt before her father’s chair. In the corner, a small oil lamp burnt in front of the shrine to the household gods. Valeria saw that the tiny stick of incense she had lit this morning before going out was nothing but ash.

‘You’re back.’ Her mother spooned another mouth of gruel into her father’s slack mouth before wiping his chin. ‘When does the ship depart? I’ve spent the morning praying to the gods. The augur assured me the omens were good.’

‘No one will sail before the winds change.’

Her mother’s face fell. ‘That long? The gold will be gone…surely someone…’

‘Piso the Greek. Everyone said that he was the only one who would be mad enough to go to Alexandria at this time of the year and it’s true.’

Tears welled up in her mother’s eyes. ‘He refused to see you? His hatred is deep. Who can blame him after what your father did?’

‘Piso saw me, Mother, and agreed to help. But there are conditions.’ Valeria knelt by her mother’s side. ‘Everything will be well. We’ll be able to find a new place to live and proper food for Father…I promise.’

‘I only go from here when Marcus returns. And Piso must never learn the state we have sunk to. Ever. I won’t have that man gloating.’ Her mother stood and started to pace the tiny room. ‘Will you come and make the sacrifices with me tonight?’

‘I can’t stay here. I bargained with Piso and lost.’ Valeria took off the stola and laid it on the trunk. The earrings swiftly followed. Her head suddenly seemed lighter. She ceased to be a Roman matron and became a woman of no virtue. ‘I’m to be Piso’s concubine. Apparently no woman can hold his interest for more than three days, but to save my brother, I’m going to have to try.’

‘I don’t understand. He’ll find Marcus in exchange for your company? For only three days?’

Valeria shook her head. ‘Fortunata has truly deserted us, Mother. Piso seeks the final humiliation. Only if I please him as a concubine in those days, make him want me more than the allotted time, will he help us. Either my body pays my way or I do not go and Marcus is lost for ever.’

‘Crudeness is unattractive and unnecessary.’ Her mother clapped her hands together. ‘You must do as you think best, Valeria. You always do.’

Valeria hated her mother’s tone of voice—the implication that selling her body was the correct action to take—but refused to quarrel and snipe.

‘Piso is doing this to test me. He expects me to run away and never come back. Then his conscience will be clear. But I will return. I’ll shame him into going before the winds change.’ She pressed her hands against her eyes. Her mother was right on one thing. Piso must never discover her father’s current state, as she had no idea if he’d be like Ofellius and seek revenge on someone who was helpless. ‘I need to return before…before he sends someone. I won’t give Piso an opportunity to gloat at our misfortune.’

‘You were the one who lost the Diana statue, Diana who guarded this family for centuries, Valeria. It is only fitting that you be the one to reverse our fortunes. All our troubles started then. It is why Marcus never returned.’

Valeria gritted her teeth. She had placed the little lead figure in Piso’s hand so he would not die and he would know that she waited for him, but clearly fortune had chosen not to favour her. ‘All our troubles started when Father made a pact with Ofellius. When he fought with Marcus about it and Marcus stormed off.’

‘You were always an ungrateful person.’

Valeria went over to the cabinet and took down a selection of paints and creams. ‘Arguing with you, Mother, solves nothing.’

‘Try not to disappoint us this time. It will mean so much to your father to have Marcus return, to bury their argument after so many years apart.’

Fighting back her anger, and the nerves at what she was about to do, Valeria kissed her mother’s cheek and took one last look around the flat. She didn’t bother to make the customary prayer in front of the household gods. They had forsaken her long ago. ‘I’ll do my best.’

Chapter Three

‘You returned quickly,’ Piso remarked, putting down the scroll. His body leapt at the sight of Valeria. In her hand she carried a small bag. She had shed her stola and was dressed only in an ordinary tunic with a light woollen shawl thrown over her shoulders. Her dark eyes glinted with defiance as if she expected a fight.

He hadn’t expected her to return. He thought she’d have trembled in her sandals and fled at the thought of publically becoming his concubine. But she’d confounded his prediction. And he’d enjoy playing with her and uncovering her secrets until the desire faded. He was no longer some callow youth to be used and discarded. He would be the one to do the discarding after he had drunk his fill of her. The next few days were going to prove very satisfying.

‘You failed to take one of the slaves to carry your belongings. I have plenty of litters.’

‘I prefer to walk.’ Her red lips curved upwards in a mysterious smile. ‘Like your steward, I suspect you thought I’d vanish in the sea of humanity that is Rome. But I pay my debts. In full.’

‘I’ll remember for the next time we wager,’ Piso replied coolly, mentally planning several wagers that she would lose and he would collect.

‘I only went to return my mother’s stola. She might have need of it. I won’t.’ She gave a short laugh and seemed to be infused with a nervous energy. ‘My protector will have to provide the clothes. The finest linen and silk. Perhaps I’ll even start wearing a toga. A whole new world beckons.’

‘A concubine is not a prostitute.’ He moved closer and allowed his hand to trail down her warm skin. ‘You belong to me, Valeria, not to the world of men. And yes, I think a wardrobe can be arranged. I’ll arrange for a merchant to call.’

‘I am a free woman. I can visit him.’ She shrugged a shoulder. Her tunic slipped slightly, revealing more of her creamy skin. A calculated move? Regardless, it was one that sent his senses reeling. His fingers itched to unwrap the layers and reveal the woman.

Then Piso narrowed his eyes. Valeria was up to something. Why would she want to leave the compound to visit a shop? All of his mistresses had preferred the prestige of having the shopkeeper visit but Valeria wanted to go out. If she intended to cross him, she’d regret it. But he’d play along for now and wait for her to make a mistake.

‘No one asked you to wager with me, Valeria.’

All pretence of seduction vanished and her cat eyes spat emerald. ‘I knew the consequences of my actions.’

‘And the sudden desire for a toga?’

She ducked her head and rearranged the folds of her shawl. ‘I’m no longer respectable, and who knows what I will do after you tire of me. Discarded women face an uncertain future.’

There was a catch in her throat when she said the words that struck Piso straight to his core. The murmurings of what happened to the many women Ofellius bedded had flooded the wharves and docks of Rome. He hardened his heart. Valeria had chosen her destiny of her own free will. She had looked radiant during the bridal procession.

He cupped her head and looked down into her delicate features. ‘Shall we leave predicting the future to soothsayers?’

Her eyes became the colour of a meadow on a spring morning. Piso drew her against his body. He kissed her delicate skin. As in his memory, she tasted of sweet summer wine. She lifted her mouth to his, parted her lips and allowed him to drink his fill. He wanted to carry her to his room and slake his hunger deep within her.

With an inhuman effort, he drew back and regained control of his protesting body. He ran a finger down her face. She would learn her lesson first. He would demonstrate to her what he had become and the power he now commanded. Where her place in his life would be—an ornament to be enjoyed, rather than as his life’s partner.

‘Not here, not now. We have things to do.’

‘Things to do?’ She allowed the shawl to drop from her shoulders. ‘Aren’t we going to spend time getting to know each other?’

‘We knew each other years ago.’

‘I’ve changed. You have.’

‘Maybe I wish to show off my latest acquisition.’ He rearranged the shawl so that the hollow at the base of her throat was covered. ‘I’m throwing a dinner party. Business associates. Men who appreciate the way Rome works but are also men of integrity.’

‘Business associates?’ She gave a scornful look. ‘You mean merchants, men of the street and adventurers.’

‘Do not mock my guests. I expect you to be there. At my side. There is bound to be a gap-sleeve tunic or two in the clothes press as this tunic is far too coarse. It chafes your skin. Chose a colour that suits.’

She opened and closed her mouth. He waited for the protest that Roman matrons did not dine with men. But tonight would not be about the party proclaiming the acquisition of his new concubine, rather what happened afterwards. Would the reality match the memory?

She bowed her head. Piso wondered for an instant if he had pushed her too far and she’d storm out.

‘I’ll be delighted to join you,’ she said with a little wave of her hand. ‘Will I be seated or reclining?’

‘Reclining is always the best position for a concubine.’

Being careful to remain hidden by a pillar on the upper floor, Valeria peered down at the arriving guests in their glittering array of brightly coloured dining robes.

Luckily she did not know any of the men who were assembled or the women they had brought with them—all wearing tunics and veils that revealed more than they concealed. Women of light virtue. Dinner party? An orgy, more like.

Valeria grasped the pillar, feeling more injured that she would have imagined. Their first night together and he threw an orgy. She had thought…Valeria banished the thought. Romance had no part in their relationship. He was a man from the same mould as her former husband. Piso had acquired her solely because she’d been fool enough to throw the dice. She had three nights to prove herself irresistible enough for him to agree to sail to Cyrene, and she would. Party or no party.

Valeria gritted her teeth. Piso was seeking to demonstrate her new status. Very well. She’d oblige him. She hadn’t suffered through her marriage without learning how one teased in a dining room. She had been forced to watch others perform the trick often enough. It never seemed that complicated or complex, simply overt and obvious. This was her one chance to play the game and play it properly.

She couldn’t be completely naked but she decided to strip down to her under-tunic. A demonstration to Piso that underestimating or intimidating her would fail.

Her fingers examined her swollen lips. She had no idea why he had kissed her and then put her from him. There had been something more than carnality in the kiss and she hadn’t expected her response. She closed her eyes and refused to give into wishful thinking. Tonight was an adventure into the unknown. It certainly would be a tale to tell in the baths—the night Valeria brought Piso to his knees.

She retreated up to the bedroom where the servants had placed her things. There she took out various pots and paints and made up her face, taking care to whiten her face and heavily kohl her eyes in the latest style. Staring at the small mirror, she found it hard to recognise the woman who looked back at her. Despite the thick paint, there was a latent sensuality in her lips and her eyes sparkled a bit too brightly. Valeria frowned. Suddenly her under-tunic seemed far too intimate a garment for such a gathering.

She went over to the clothes press, opened it and discovered a simple tunic of fine linen. She slipped it on and the soft folds came down to her mid-calf, sliding about her legs as she moved. The cloth appeared to accentuate her curves and hint at what was hidden underneath. She took her belt and fastened it around the middle, straightening the folds so that her waist was emphasised. As a final defiant gesture, she took the pins out of her hair and allowed it to flow down her back. She took one last look in the tiny brass-backed mirror and did not recognise the perfect concubine who stared back at her.

She hated to think of the woman who must have owned this first, and the delight in Piso’s eyes when she wore it. But the outrageous idea she had planned for tonight was sure to keep Piso’s attention firmly on her. She summoned several servants and explained what she wanted. They appeared dubious but accepted her order.

‘Seek to humiliate me, Piso?’ Valeria tapped her finger against her mouth. ‘Two can play at this game.’

Piso leaned on one arm and with other hand he reached for the bowl of olives. The conversation about gladiators, and the upcoming season, ebbed and flowed around him.

Valeria was taking a long time, far too long. A protest at the guests’ status? Overcome with nerves? He’d watched the shadowy figure on the landing as the guests arrived. The company might not be entirely respectable but they were far more interesting than ponderous senators or other worthies. And they had the added bonus of ensuring the identity of his new concubine would be all over the Aventine before the night watchmen called curfew.

On the couches the guests shifted restlessly, their attention wandering from the discussion about whether or not Strabo the Cyrenian’s new tiro Valens was actually the best gladiator of his generation or simply a ladies’ favourite because of his legs.

He had begun to rise, when his steward banged a heavy stick on the floor.

‘The next dish is served for your delectation.’

Piso raised a brow. He had not ordered the next course to be served. Everyone was waiting for Valeria. But he had no wish for the cook’s food to go waste. Valeria would learn. Next course she would appear, or he would drag her from her lair. In her under-tunic if need be.

He nodded towards the steward and signalled for the dish to be served.

Four of his strongest servants came in carrying what looked to be a table with his largest pot covering it. He frowned, trying to think what the cook was doing. The meal was supposed to be a simple one.

The servant lifted the cover. An audible gasp echoed through the dining room. Piso ground his teeth.

Valeria reclined on the platter. The near translucent cloth of her tunic clung to her thighs and back, covering her but at the same time promising untold delight. She held a large bunch of grapes in one hand.

‘The next course,’ she said, gracefully rising and advancing towards him with smiling painted red lips. Piso watched, transfixed by the way her loose hair curled about her shoulders.

‘Would you like one?’ A dimple appeared in the corner of her mouth. ‘Shall I play the taster?’

With a lazy insolence, her tongue curled around a grape, sucking it before popping it into her mouth.

‘They’re absolutely delicious. Care for one?’

Piso stared at her, blood pounding through his brain. All he could think about was how her lips had felt against his and how much he desired her…had always desired her.

A variety of lewd remarks and cheers brought him to his senses. Valeria playing the concubine was one thing, but not here and not in front of other men. A jealous rage surged through him. She belonged to him, no one else.

He rose to his feet, slung her over his shoulder and strode out of the room. With quick steps, he marched to the bathing complex. The marble-lined chamber still bore the faint heat from the bath he’d enjoyed earlier. He placed Valeria down on the ground with a thump and then closed the door with a distinct click.

‘There was no need to do that!’ she said, looking at him with accusatory eyes as she scrambled to her feet.

‘There was every need.’ Piso gave a long, slow smile. ‘I’m greedy and refuse to share the dish on offer. I do my tasting in private.’

‘I was merely trying to behave like any good concubine would.’ Her long lashes swept down, hiding her eyes, and she adopted a falsely contrite expression. She tried to peer around him at the firmly closed door. ‘We can return to the dinner party now. I promise to be good. Your guests will be wondering where we are.’

He controlled his temper. She would pay, slowly and sweetly for her defiance. She’d learn. Such games remained private. His women were not teases for other men. ‘They’re adults. They’ll know.’

‘But…but…’ Her tongue flicked over her painted lips.

He moved closer and lifted her chin, so her green eyes were staring directly into his. ‘Understand two things, Valeria and we’ll get on. First I require my grapes washed. Second my women unpainted.’

Her eyes flashed fury and she tried to hit him.

‘My kitten has claws,’ he said, laughing, capturing her hands. He nodded towards the basin that stood in front of the cold room. ‘Wash and we can begin the feast…properly.’

‘No.’

‘Very well, the die is cast.’ With one hand he undid her belt. The soft folds of the linen tunic fell about her curves. Then he methodically began to strip off his evening robes and put them in a neat pile, pausing between each motion to see her reaction.

He’d undone his sandals when her hesitant voice filled the room. ‘What are you doing?’

He raised an eyebrow, beginning to enjoy himself. ‘Somebody has to bathe you.’

Chapter Four

‘There, my face is clean,’ Valeria said, turning back from the basin that stood at the entrance to the cold room where she had retreated while Piso took off his clothes. Her face now tingled instead of itching. ‘You’ve made your point. We can return to the party. I’m fit for your company.’

Piso still stood, completely naked, watching her. His magnificent chest was crisscrossed in a network of scars. She kept her gaze from going any lower. ‘What makes you think we are going back? You began this, Valeria. I will finish it. The guests will make their own way home without us.’

‘Everyone will know.’ Her voice sounded thick and husky to her ears. Her entire body tingled from his nearness. Every particle was aware of him and his nakedness. She wanted to touch his skin and see if it was still as warm and pliant as her memory of him. And her lack of control made her furious. She had planned it differently and now everything had gone wrong. ‘Is that why did you it?’

‘No, I wanted to do this without becoming a spectacle.’

He bent his head and captured her mouth. The kiss was carnality personified. His hand came around her waist and held her. And she knew that this was Piso all grown up, rather than the youth of her memory. A master of seduction. He knew how to provoke a woman’s response, but each touch seemed especially designed with her in mind and her body craved more. She had thought she’d be immune but primitive desire rampaged through her. She concentrated on breathing and tried desperately to block out her emotions.

The thin material of her tunic provided no barrier to the heat from his body. The fine material slid between them, heightening her awareness of how his hard muscles moved against her body. She opened her mouth and allowed her tongue to tangle with his. His hands roamed down her back, cupping her bottom, pulling her firmly against his arousal.

‘You see,’ he rasped in her ear. ‘You see what you’re doing to me.’

His lips traced a fiery trail down her neck to the hollow of her throat where his tongue lapped. Slowly, his mouth descended lower. He cupped her breasts and pulled the material tight over them. His tongue traced their outline, turning the material translucent, showing the dark rose of her nipples. The cooling sensation of the fabric warred with the heat of his mouth, causing the pulsating ache within her to grow. And she remembered how long ago he had given her pleasure.

She arched her hips forward seeking relief, craving his touch. He pulled her more firmly against him and ground his hips into her, teasing her with expert skill, and she found she no longer missed her boy lover. She wanted the man, far more than she had considered possible only a few hours ago.

A moan came from her throat as his hips drove forward again, demanding her surrender.

He scooped her up and, within a few steps, he had reached the raised marble platform in the caldaria and placed her down. The marble retained the heat from earlier in the day. Above her a faint light shone through the star pattern in the ceiling, reminding her of the stars on their last night. She had to take it as a good omen that she’d succeed in her quest.

Piso drew in his breath as inch by inch he lifted the tunic to reveal her limbs. His body ached to finish it but he retained the narrowest leash on his passion. He had waited a long time for this and he intended to enjoy her to the full.

He closed his eyes, remembering how he had once tasted her skin. He had tried to block out the sensation but she was unique, imprinted on his being. No other woman’s skin had come close. It was one of the reasons he had kept changing women, he realised with a jolt. The only one he truly craved was lying in his arms right now.

He hated thinking of anyone else touching her. The primitive urge to cleanse her and make her forget any other lover filled him. He wanted to make this special for her, rather than simply taking his pleasure.

He lifted her foot, kneaded it and took each toe, one by one, into his mouth, watching for a response. Her head thrashed on the marble plinth as a whimper of pleasure emerged from her throat.

She arched her back and held up her arms, allowing him to remove the tunic. He feasted on the sight of her reclining, naked with lithe limbs and softly mounded breasts, more exquisite than his memory. It amazed him that he’d forgotten about the dimple on either side of her knees. And the memory of her somehow made the passion more intense.

Slipping his hand down her body, he savoured the way her skin felt smooth under his fingertips, until he reached the nest of curls at the apex of her thighs. His forefinger parted her folds. To his delight, he discovered her warm and wet. She wanted him, was more than ready for him. He traced several figures of eight on the slick surface, heard her cry before he slipped his finger in her. Immediately her body clenched around him and she trembled, her hands gripping his shoulders.

Valeria shattered. Her body arched off the marble, seeking more than his moving finger. She tugged at his shoulders, demanding. She wanted his strength and power pressing down on her and his body to cover hers as it had during that long-ago summer when he had initiated her into the rites of Venus and Cupid. She breathed his name, hoping he’d understand the urgency of her need.

He pressed a feather-like kiss to her mouth. ‘Patience. I want to give you pleasure.’

Bending his head, his breath caressed where his fingers had been. The tip of his tongue traced round and round, and when she thought she could no longer stand it, he slowly moved upwards, his knee parting her thighs, and plunged into her. She surged up to meet him.

Her body opened and welcomed him as he filled her. Slowly and steadily she moved her hips. As his body arced downwards, she saw his face, intent and driven. And her body seemed to bathe in fire, becoming forged anew and remade just for him.

She lifted her hips and felt him break inside her. He collapsed down on her. Her arms came around him, cradled him, holding him within her, keeping him there. She’d never felt so connected to one person in her life. She regarded the ceiling and the star pattern mocked her. Her long-ago experience hadn’t prepared her for this completeness. But there were secrets she had to keep. She couldn’t bear to see the hate in his eyes if he ever discovered her betrayal, not after tonight. And she hated that she cared.

His hand smoothed her hair from her forehead and he looked down at her with tenderness in his eyes, blocking out the stars.

‘You can see why I didn’t want to create a spectacle.’

She moved her hands down his back, touching the knots and scars, reminding herself that she had caused some of them. ‘I begin to get the idea.’

He nipped her chin. And as their shared laughter rang out, she knew the moment for regrets had passed. She had to concentrate on the important things—making sure she won and he took her to Alexandria.

Within her, she felt him harden. She shifted slightly, encouraging him to move deep inside her. To stay with her and be a part of her. To want her for longer than three days.

‘As my lady requires.’ He captured her mouth and his tongue mimicked what he was doing inside her. And then he gripped her hips and turned her over, so that she was on top and he was the one beneath. ‘You call the rhythm.’

Piso touched Valeria’s shoulder and she snuggled closer to him. After making love again in the caldaria, he had carried her up the backstairs to her bedroom. He couldn’t remember when he had last slept with a woman. Probably if he was honest, it was the summer he had been with Valeria, when they had made love and slept in each other’s arms in the temple’s gardens with the stars providing the blanket until he reluctantly stole away in the morning light.

He enjoyed taking his pleasure with women, but actually sleeping? No. He always maintained his own bed, slipping out of theirs as soon as the act was completed. With Valeria he wanted to linger. He wanted the intimacy of hearing her soft breath as she slept. He wanted to wake up in her arms.

His fingers moved down her back. Stopped. Light indents marred her lower back, as if at some point she had been whipped. Piso dismissed the thought as ridiculous. No one would dare beat a free woman like a common slave. He padded over to the window and opened the shutter, allowing the pale grey light to filter in. With light, there was no mistaking the deep white scars.

‘Who beat you?’ he asked, touching her shoulder.

She blinked up at him, reached out for him. ‘It doesn’t matter. A lifetime ago.’

He took her arm from his neck. Someone had dared to mark her, and a primitive urge to protect his woman drove him onwards. ‘It matters to me.’

‘Why?’ She raised herself up on one elbow. She smiled but her eyes were wary in the half-light. ‘Do you only have unblemished mistresses? Forgive me but I don’t recall having to give details of all of my imperfections.’

‘It was not what I asked.’ Piso ran his hand through his hair, wondering how he could put it and why she should seek to protect the culprit. Silently he vowed that he would discover who had done this to her and punish them. ‘Are you going to tell me why it happened?’

She wrapped a sheet about her and moved so her back was against the wall. ‘The scars healed. I…I don’t think about them.’

‘Your ex-husband.’

She shook her head. Her lips turned up into another sad smile. ‘He preferred other methods—other women, other humiliations.’

Piso reached forward and grasped her arms. ‘Your father then.’

She was silent, confirming his guess. His insides churned. The scars were years old. She’d either been beaten when she left her husband or before she married him. Her father had beaten her so badly that he had permanently marked her. Whatever she’d done, it hadn’t deserved this reaction. Piso wanted to tear the man limb from limb. He didn’t deserve a daughter like Valeria, a daughter who was willing to risk her life to find his son, the son he’d driven away.

Unaccustomed remorse flooded through him. He had failed to protect her once, but he would from now on. She belonged to him, not her father.

‘I forbid you to see him again.’

‘He’s ill, Piso. He needs my help. He and my mother will die without it. What I feel for my father is my business, but I did forgive him. I’ve not forgotten.’

‘You belong to me, Valeria. I will handle it.’ And I will make him suffer, Piso silently vowed.

‘Belong? I’m a free woman.’ Valeria lifted her chin and glared at him. What right did he have? She’d only agreed to be his concubine because she had made the foolish wager. ‘I make my own decisions.’

‘You are under my protection!’ His voice was laced with anger.

Valeria bit her lip. If she explained the scars, she’d have to explain how she had finally given his name to her father to stop the beating. And she wanted to enjoy being with him before she saw the inevitable hatred. ‘I paid for my mistakes, Piso. Don’t ask for what I cannot give.’

His brow lowered. ‘Are you going to tell me why your father beat you? Or do I guess?’

She wrenched her arm away. ‘It was nothing to do with you. I made my peace with him. Years ago. It belongs to the past.’

‘No one ever hurts you again, Valeria, or they answer to me. Understand?’

She stopped and turned towards him. ‘You need not worry then. He won’t.’

Piso slapped his hands together. ‘You can’t possibly know that. I’ve experienced what your father can do in a rage.’

‘Because what happened with Ofellius destroyed him.’ The lump in her throat grew. ‘All his power and prestige is gone. Life is a punishment enough. He is a shell of a man who only lives for one thing—to see his son again. But he remains my father.’

Piso shook his head. ‘I’ve no pity for the man. I know what he and Ofellius did. I know the men he killed, cheated and ruined.’

‘This is Rome,’ Valeria argued. ‘What merchant doesn’t have something in his past? Are you proud of everything you have done?’

‘I’m no priest of Jupiter with unblemished hands and reputation, but I look after those who are important to me.’

‘The Piso I remember from years ago would never kick a man when he was on the ground.’ Once I loved you for it, she whispered in her mind.

A muscle jumped in his jaw. ‘I changed.’

‘A pity.’

Valeria strode out of the room and did not look back. When she reached her room, she sank down into a heap and hugged her knees to her chest.

Chapter Five

The stench of cabbage was even worse today than the day before. Valeria lifted the corner of her veil and put it over her face, blocking out the worst of the smell, hating the fact that she wanted the visit to be short. But it had to done. No one had noticed her leave the compound.

When she knocked on the door, her mother had answered with a puzzled expression in her eyes. ‘What are you doing here, Valeria?’

‘I’ve brought some food.’ Valeria dug out the fruit, cheese and bread. ‘A gift from Piso.’

‘I know the Aventine speaks of his generosity,’ her mother said. ‘But there was no need.’

‘There was every need,’ Piso’s rich voice rang out behind Valeria. ‘We can’t have you or Valerius starving, can we?’

Valeria gasped for air. Piso had followed her. She’d been naive in thinking that he was occupied elsewhere and would only come to her in the night.

Piso entered the room like some great avenging Greek god. Despite her best intentions, Valeria was aware of his every move—how his short tunic slid and clung to the mid point of his thighs, how his belt emphasised his waist, and the power in his jaw. Most of all, she remembered how he’d held her in his arms until he discovered her scars.

‘I can explain,’ she said, stepping forward, trying to block his view of her father.

‘It is self-evident.’ Piso turned from her. His entire being seemed transfixed by the spectacle of her father’s slack mouth and even slacker hands. ‘Bread will do your father no good, Valeria. He has not the wit to tear.’

‘My mother feeds him gruel. The bread and fruit are for her.’ Valeria held out her hands and willed him to understand. She might hate her father’s actions but he remained her father. ‘I refuse to leave them to starve simply because I have become your concubine.’

‘Valeria is very kind, Piso,’ her mother said, dropping an ingratiating curtsey. ‘But I think my headstrong daughter acted without your orders. You must take your food with you, Valeria. You must go and never return. We’ve no need of thieves here.’

‘We return to the compound, Valeria.’

Valeria glanced at her mother who made shooing motions. ‘Not without knowing that my parents are safe.’

‘Valeria, must you always be a trial?’ her mother said with maddening complacency. ‘The gods will not desert us, even if my children have.’

‘I keep telling you, Mother. The gods are not listening.’ Valeria hated the way everything had gone wrong and that her mother blamed her, Valeria, for their misfortunes.

‘Will you make a sacrifice to the shrine, Valeria, before you go for the final time?’ her mother asked pointedly. ‘You forgot the last time. You have to ask for the gods to listen—otherwise they can’t hear.’

Piso strode over to the household shrine where several lamps shone in front of the various lares. He suddenly stilled. ‘You are missing the Artemis figurine, the one who looked a bit like Valeria.’

‘I lost her years ago.’ Valeria gave a shrug but her insides clenched. ‘It was never replaced.’

‘I remember it. It was one of your favourites.’

Valeria examined the missing tiles in the floor. She had placed the Diana statuette in Piso’s near-lifeless hand, in a vain effort to keep him safe. Her mother maintained that Valeria had cursed the family, and all their troubles stemmed from that single act.

‘I was very upset when it went, but then I married and had other things to think about.’

Piso gave a slight nod. ‘You are a dreadful liar, Valeria, you always were. But you’re a good daughter, better than either of them deserve.’

‘Will I be able to bring food to my parents again?’

‘No. It won’t be necessary.’

Valeria glared at him. How typically male and arrogant. ‘I will anyway. Despite everything they have done, they gave me life.’

‘You should allow me to finish, Valeria, before you speak.’ Piso placed the parcel of food down. ‘I will arrange for food to be brought to your parents. I’ll not allow them to starve. If your mother wishes to believe it is from the gods, she may.’

Tears pricked at Valeria’s eyelids as she saw her mother turn red and then white. Piso was going to look after them.

‘I hold you responsible, Valeria,’ he said as they went out into the sunlit courtyard where Piso’s litter waited. ‘I know you mentioned last night that your father was fragile now, but you could have told me about the true level of their deprivation rather than sneaking away on the pretext of shopping. Honesty, remember. Are you coming back?’

‘Would you have listened?’ Valeria kept her back straight and her head up. ‘I will go and honour our wager as I honour all my debts.’

The litter ride back to Piso’s house had been conducted in total silence. Valeria was very aware of how their bodies collided when the litter went around a corner, and the intensity of his expression. Her insides trembled. There had to be a way of getting back to what they’d shared the previous night before he’d found her scars. Right now, time was slipping from her with each drip of the water clock. She needed something else to bargain with, something to bind him to her and keep his interest beyond three days.

‘I ought to tie you up next time to keep you in one place,’ Piso said, breaking the silence as they reached her room. ‘You weren’t where I wanted you.’

‘If there is any tying up, I’ll do it,’ she said, relief flooding through her. The gods had provided the answer.

A spark of interest showed in his eyes. ‘And you think you could tie a knot that I couldn’t get out of?’

‘Yes,’ Valeria answered without giving herself time to consider the pitfalls to her plan. She could do this and take the lead. ‘And if I do, will you take me with you to Alexandria?’

‘I doubt you could.’ A smile tugged at his features. ‘You create an unbreakable knot, and you may go.’

‘Then there is no time like the present to try.’ Valeria put a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back towards the bed. When they reached it, he fell backwards, taking her with him. She undid her belt and looped it about his wrist before attaching it to the bedpost. His eyes widened, but he did nothing as she undid his belt and tied his other wrist to the bedpost.

She sat back on her heels and looked at him with his arms fastened above his head. He pulled on the bonds but nothing happened. His tunic was tangled about his waist, revealing his powerful legs. An arrow of desire shot through her. ‘What do you think about those knots?’

He pulled against them harder, and to her surprise, they held. ‘Are you going to release me?’

She pretended to consider the question. ‘Not right now. We are going to play a game.’

‘What sort of game?’

‘Answers, and we will see what each brings,’ she said quickly, before she lost her nerve. ‘First question—why are you going to send food to my parents?’

He was silent for a long heartbeat. ‘I’m doing it because I saw you with them and how, despite what they did to you, you are willing to forgive and help them in their hour of need. You showed me there was another way.’

She stared at him, surprised. He truly was going to assist her parents. Because of her.

‘It is the truth, Valeria,’ he said, breaking the silence. ‘Next question.’

‘What are we doing this afternoon?’ she asked, drawing her finger down the side of his face. Her entire being pulsated with desire. ‘After all, I have two days left with you.’

‘I don’t know—should I take it that you have plans?’

‘Perhaps.’ She undid her hair so it fell about her shoulders, and then she leant forward. ‘We shall feast alone tonight.’

She captured his feet and undid the buckles of his sandals, tossing them over her shoulder. They landed on the floor with a thud.

‘Are there more questions?’

‘Should there be?’ Her hands skimmed his legs, moving steadily but unhurriedly upwards as a sense of power went through her. This man was under her control. She caught her tongue between her teeth. She could do what she liked to him. Even tease.

‘What do you think?’

‘Wrong answer. You’ll have to pay a penalty.’ She sat up and shamelessly began to touch her breasts, kneading and caressing them until the nipples were erect. She heard his groan as she lazily moved her hands lower, mimicking how he had always touched her. She half closed her eyes and tried to recapture the craving.

‘Valeria.’ The word was half plea and half promise.

‘Shall we try again?’ Leaning forward, she moved his short tunic with tantalizing slowness and revealed his rampant arousal. She sucked in her breath. ‘What are we doing this afternoon?’

‘Whatever you want.’

Her hand curled around his velvet hardness. Slowly, deliberately, she lowered her mouth to him and tasted. Delicately she traced the tip of his head. His body jerked upwards and he groaned in the back of his throat. His arms strained against the bonds as she took more of him into her mouth. A wild throbbing filled her. She was doing this to him. Surely she was doing enough to keep his interest.

As his movement increased, she released him, straddled his body and impaled her body on him. He filled her completely. The bed creaked slightly and his arms reached up to enfold her and bring her down next to him.

‘You’re no sailor,’ he rumbled in her ear. ‘Those knots would not hold a flea. My turn now.’

‘Maybe I wanted you to be free. Maybe I wanted to be held,’ she whispered against his chest.

He turned his body so she was lying beneath him. His hand stroked her face. ‘Having you in my arms is far preferable to being bound.’

He moved within her, driving hard, understanding her need, and their cries echoed throughout the room as she shattered.

Later she watched him sleep. His lashes made half circles on his cheeks. Her heart turned over. It would be so easy to give him her whole heart, but she knew her ancient betrayal would haunt her and some day, it would come out, and he would never forgive her for it. A long drawn-out sigh filled the room.

Instantly his eyes opened. ‘Something is bothering you.’

And she knew she had to tell him now rather than waiting for it emerge. After what he did for her family, she had to confess. She had to hope that he could forgive her.

‘You asked me last night why I’d been beaten. My father beat me because someone had seen me kissing a man in the Temple of Diana the night Marcus left.’ Valeria traced the scars on his back. He deserved the truth. She wanted all the shadows between them gone. ‘And he wanted the name.’

He moved away from her and sat on the side of the bed. She glimpsed again yesterday’s hardened man. ‘The lashes went deep to scar you that badly. You didn’t give the name straight away.’

‘I can be stubborn but in the end, I whispered your name.’ She put her face in her hands, unable to watch him and see the growing hatred. ‘I betrayed you. My back was on fire. All I could think about was getting him to stop. He wanted me to marry Ofellius straight away. I refused.’

‘Go on.’ His face gave nothing away and he remained sitting. ‘You married him anyway.’

Valeria swallowed hard, finding it far more difficult than she thought possible. ‘They lay in wait for you. That night my mother took my arm and led me to the warehouse.’

‘Why did they take you to see me?’ His voice was no more than a hoarse whisper.

‘My parents wanted me to see the consequences of my continued refusal. You were beaten to an inch of your life, and I knew if I’d done as I was told in the first place that wouldn’t have happened to you. Your being there was all my fault, my responsibility.’ Valeria hugged her arms about her middle rather than ask for his arms. ‘They agreed to spare your life if I married Ofellius. My mother made me shout the words so everyone—so you—could hear. I saw them cut you down. I…I tucked the Diana figurine in your hand, hoping even then that you would know I was innocent and come save me. Then, when I saw you with those women on my wedding day, I knew you were never coming.’

His voice broke. ‘They left me in the gutter to die. More dead than alive. Luckily a gladiator’s surgeon tended my wounds and saved my life. Later when I went through my clothes from that night, I discovered the figurine. No one knew where it had come from. It wasn’t until this afternoon that I realised who had originally owned that figurine. If I’d known, Valeria, I’d never have entered into our wager. I owe you too much.’

Valeria encircled her knees with her arms, and stared at the grey shadows on the walls. He hadn’t known.

‘If you would like me to leave, I’ll go now,’ she said around the lump in her throat.

The silence stretched unbearably and she wondered how she’d find the strength to walk back to her parents. She was idiotic to ever have hoped.

‘I was an arrogant young fool, Valeria and like all fools, I did something that I now regret. I hurt you, rejected you, when I should have believed in your love and rescued you. I hope I’ve grown in wisdom with my years.’ He gathered her in his arms and stroked her hair. His face was wet against her skin. She looked up and saw the tears on his cheeks. ‘You looked like a goddess on your wedding day with your flame-coloured veil and all I had was stupid bravado. How I regret causing you one heartbeat of pain? Tell me about what happened afterwards. I want to know the truth, not the Aventine gossip. No more secrets between us.’

Valeria forgot how to breathe. He wasn’t throwing her out. He didn’t blame her. The great and heavy burden she’d carried for so long was gone and she knew she could tell him the rest of her story.

‘How do you know your brother is in North Africa?’ Piso asked, after she’d explained how she’d suffered in her marriage and why she’d divorced Ofellius.

‘One of Ofellius’s captains found my mother, he’d heard a rumour about Marcus.’ She gave a smile. ‘As long as Marcus is found, nothing else matters, according to my mother. He was always their favourite.’

Piso put his arm about Valeria and she snuggled into the warmth of his body. ‘Did this sailor say which gladiator’s house Marcus fights for?’

‘I think it was Strabo.’ Valeria sat up, as her mind searched for the answer. ‘Yes that’s it, Strabo the Cyrenian. Strabo in Cyrene.’

‘And you are certain of this?’

‘Yes.’ Valeria settled back against his arms. ‘Will you take me to Alexandria when the winds change?’

‘If it’s your desire, Valeria, we’ll go.’ He pressed a kiss against her temple and his kiss was a healing balm rather than a raging storm.

Piso watched Valeria breathe. His body protested as he eased himself out of her warm embrace. Her confession earlier had shown him what a self-important fool he’d been. He should have believed in her love for him. He longed to turn back time and save her from all that misery but he couldn’t. He could only ensure her life from now on was full and complete and that she lived her life how she wanted to.

He pressed his lips together. Someone had given Valeria the wrong information. Strabo was one of the leading lanistras in Capua rather than in North Africa, making it much easier for him to travel there and plead with Marcus to return.

‘I’ll keep you safe,’ he whispered against her hair. ‘Trust me. Believe in me. This time, you will have a choice.’

He went to his private shrine and withdrew the little Artemis figurine. After Valeria’s wedding parade, he’d discovered it tangled in his bloodied clothes. He thought the gods were mocking him. He had tucked it in his shoulder bag until he found a suitable place to leave it. On that first voyage after Valeria’s wedding, it had saved his life as he returned to the boat to get it, intending to finally leave it at a temple of Artemis, but he surprised a gang of thieves and saved the cargo. Thereafter he kept it with him as a symbol of his renewed fortune. He’d thought it was the figurine, but now he knew that it had been Valeria’s love, which had kept him safe and brought him home. He scribbled a brief note on a scrap of parchment before leaving the figurine and the note beside her pillow.

Valeria woke between tangled sheets to bright sunshine. She reached out but the bed was cold.

Valeria drew her hand back as disappointment filled her. She remembered his words about not being alone, but they brought her little comfort. She drew her knees up to her chest and tried to think. Surely he couldn’t be tired of her! Last night had been beyond describing and the third day had barely begun.

She concentrated on breathing steadily as she searched for a reasonable explanation. She’d overslept. He had business. He’d be there in the atrium, listening to clients’ petitions, solving problems, and she wanted to be there, near him.

Valeria hurriedly dressed and went into the deserted atrium.

‘Where’s Piso?’

‘He has left. Urgent business,’ the steward said with a sniff when she ran him to ground in the dining room. ‘You’re to remain here until he comes back.’

He looked at her disapprovingly as if such a thing had not happened before. Valeria’s insides twisted. He had left without saying goodbye. ‘Did he say where he was going?’

The steward shrugged. ‘You’re to remain. That is all I know.’

Valeria walked back up to her room and discovered the Diana figurine wedged under her pillow with its scroll stating that although their agreement was for three full days together, he expected her to remain there until he returned, or he’d hunt her down and carry out his threat of tying her up. And his knots were proper sailor’s knots!

She fingered Diana. He’d left his talisman for her. The goodbye would have to do. Somehow she’d have felt better if he’d taken it with him on his mysterious business. Carefully she set up a small shrine and lit a single lamp. She prayed to any god who might be listening to keep Piso safe and bring him back to her. Swiftly.

At first it seemed like a small thing and that he would be back the next day. Then, as more days passed, she began to wonder if he had regretted what they shared and was deliberately staying away. She sat for a long time, holding the figurine in her hand. Finally she went and saw her parents. Her father sat with a vacant expression while her mother complained all the time about the food, and the other furnishings that Piso had sent, even though they were of excellent quality.

‘You do want me to find Marcus? Is that truly my only purpose in life?’ she asked, exasperated beyond measure. A steady rain was falling and Valeria had become soaked walking across to the small apartment.

‘You cursed our family. You were the one who took the Diana statue. If that came back…’

‘Piso left this.’ Valeria walked over to the shrine and placed Diana down. ‘He had it all along. He kept it. It is mine to do what I want with, but the loss of it didn’t cause this family’s ill fortune. My father’s and your greed caused our downfall.’

‘Do you love him?’

‘Yes, I always did,’ Valeria whispered. ‘And I want him to come back but there is nothing I can do. All anyone ever says is that he is on business in the south.’

Rather than replying, her mother started to put a kettle on the brazier. ‘Shall we have peppermint tea before you go, Valeria?’

‘Valeria,’ boomed a voice from the doorway. They turned to find a broad-shouldered man standing there. He sported a beard and his arms were massive but Valeria knew it was her brother.

Valeria rushed forward as her mother stood frozen like a statue, the water from the kettle dripping onto the floor. She hugged him tightly. ‘Marcus. Thank the gods. We need you. How did you know where to find us?’

‘The man who found me and brought me back is outside. Ask him,’ Marcus said, putting her from him.

‘But how? Why, after all this time?’

‘He convinced me that I was wrong to be angry and stay away. He told me what the family and, in particular, you had suffered, Valeria. Threatened to knock my thick skull in until I listened. And once I did, I knew my place was here as the head of this family. Our parents are my responsibility now.’ Her brother went and knelt beside their father. He took the clawed hands in his. Her father made a muffled noise as tears of joy flowed down her mother’s face. Valeria stood awkwardly outside the little circle until Marcus turned to Valeria. ‘Go now, Valeria. He waits. We’ll talk later after Mother makes me a cup of peppermint tea.’

Valeria rushed out and the bone-chilling rain pelted down. Piso stood alone in the deserted courtyard. His eyes smouldered when he caught sight of her. ‘Valeria. Our wager is finished.’

Her feet suddenly seemed to have turned to stone. She wanted to shake him for daring to leave her, for putting her through such misery, and she wanted to shower his face with kisses, to touch him and make sure that he was real.

‘You left without saying goodbye,’ she said carefully. ‘Before the end of the third day. And it is not over until I say it is.’

He crossed the courtyard, but she began to run and they met in the middle. She lifted her face to his and accepted his kiss. ‘If I’d woken you, I would not have gone.’ He caught her face between his hands. ‘I did not want to offer false promises. I might have been chasing ghosts. And it took me less than three days to figure out what I wanted for the rest of life.’

‘You left the figurine.’ She wiped a raindrop from his cheek. ‘Your good-luck charm. I worried.’

‘My good-luck charm is not a figurine but a person. You.’ He put his arms about her. ‘I found your brother for you, Valeria. He was in Capua, rather than North Africa, and has made a success of his career. He was furious with me for buying out his contract as he had one last fight scheduled—against a tiro Valens. But I made him see sense. After all, I owed him a life debt.’

She leant back his arms, searching his face. ‘From what Marcus said, you did more than that. But why did you bring him back?’

‘I wanted to release you from the wager. Under the terms, you were only released if your brother returned.’ He lifted her chin, so she stared directly into his eyes. ‘I wasn’t prepared to risk it.’

A great black hole opened up inside Valeria. She had misunderstood everything. He was getting ready to say goodbye. His three-day rule. He never broke it. She stepped away from him. ‘But what if I didn’t want to be released? What if I want to stay with you?’

‘I want you for my wife, Valeria.’ He gave a crooked smile as his hand prevented her from leaving. ‘I wanted to do things properly this time.’

His words reverberated through her brain. He wanted to marry her. Not live with her but make her again into a Roman matron. To give her back her meaningless virtue as he called it. ‘You want to marry me? What about your pronouncement that you’d rather face the rocky shoals of Alexandria in the teeth of a gale than marriage to a respectable Roman matron? And what about women being like fish and guests, only good for three days?’

‘There are times when I talk too much. Far too much.’ He laced her fingers through his. ‘I want to spend my life growing old with you and if that means making you into a Roman matron, then so be it, I’ll endure the general hilarity of the Aventine. You’re as necessary to me as breathing. I’ve only ever wanted one woman—you. Thank all the gods, I’ve grown up enough to see it. Will you be my wife, Valeria, for you are already my world?’

‘Yes, I’ll marry you, if only to get you to come out of this rain.’ Valeria caught his wet face between her hands. ‘But if you ever leave me again without warning or word, I will take one of your ships and hunt you down…’ She paused and allowed her voice to drop to a husky promise. ‘And tie you to your bed. I’ve been working on my knots.’

‘That is the Valeria I love.’ He put his arm about her waist. ‘With a promise like that, how could I ever leave you?’

‘You mean the whole world to me, Piso.’

With Piso’s arm about her waist, Valeria walked back towards where her mother stood with her brother. She knew that far from being her worst day ever, the day she had gone to Piso had been her best day. The gods had smiled on her, not because she was virtuous but because she had dared to fight for love.

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Although born and raised near San Francisco, California, Michelle Styles currently 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.

ISBN: 978-1-4268-8545-7

The Perfect Concubine

Copyright © 2011 by Michelle Styles

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Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Letter to Reader

Dedication

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

About the Author

Copyright