Читать книгу Conquered And Seduced - Lyn Randal - Страница 12

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Last night she’d come close to knowing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She’d planned to sacrifice one of the bedrooms usually rented to paying guests. But the disadvantages of that were obvious, given her need to make a profit.

Unless she went along with Lucan’s proposal.

During the long, wakeful night she’d realised that the flat roof of the kitchen could become the floor of a small apartment built above it. The space wouldn’t be luxurious, but it would be private, a perfect little nest for lovers and a quaint but serviceable home when their babies began to come.

Severina had no doubt, given the way Orthrus looked at Ariadne and the way she looked at him in return, that babies wouldn’t be long in coming. Severina had once seen that same look pass between Donatus and Lelia, and now they had two beautiful sons.

Severina wondered whether the addition could possibly be completed by Ariadne’s wedding day. She’d like to surprise the couple with it, clean and comfortably furnished and ready for the special glories of their wedding night.

Severina could imagine their reactions already. Ariadne would squeal and then cry. Orthrus would stand dumbfounded, his huge, work-roughened hands clenching and unclenching in the struggle for words.

But his eyes would shine, and so would Ariadne’s, and it was that thought that now made Severina eager for the coming day despite her lack of sleep.

She and Lucan would fight to save the inn. Maybe she’d even consider marriage to Lucan as a business arrangement—just long enough to foil the censor, and only because people she loved were depending on her.

Severina took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders, feeling a lot like the gladiatrix of old.