The Gladiator's Mistress (Champions of Rome) Read Online Free PDF Page A

clothing every girl child aspired to wear. The long cloth was draped over her shoulder with the tail wrapped over her arm. Phaedra had already selected a shimmering silver stolla for tomorrow. But more than being a wife for all to see, Phaedra wanted a partner who loved and respected her. How different would this night be if her groom adored her? How might she view the rest of her life if she truly cared for her husband?
    “You give me much to think on, Valens Secundus,” she said. “What of you? What would you do to change your fate?”
    “Fortune smiles upon me already, my lady.”
    Phaedra waved her veil at him. “That is far too safe an answer for a man who just now spoke of my new husband’s death. There must be something you want.”
    “If I could, I would learn to read and write.”
    “Why do you not? Then the next time you travel to Alexandria you could see the library for yourself.”
    “There is no one at the ludus to teach me,” Valens said.
    “The school’s owner, or his steward, must know how to read.”
    He shrugged. “I might consider asking one of them for instructions.”
    Valens had given her a rare and valuable gift. He deserved one in return. Yet she had nothing to give beyond her encouragement. Rising to her feet, Phaedra reached out her hand. “We shall bind ourselves to one another in a pledge to challenge the Fates.” She clasped Valens around the wrist and he gripped her in return. Her flesh tingled where his fingers wrapped around her arm. Phaedra’s pulse raced, fluttering at the base of her throat, and for a moment she forgot to breathe. “I shall ask for a choice in husbands should there come a time when I might marry again, and you shall ask for a tutor to teach you to read and write.”
    Valens threw back his head and laughed. “When I fought earlier today, I worried for you, a lamb among wolves. You have a keen mind, my lady, and a larger set of balls than Jupiter himself. Pardon my language.”
    “You worried for me when you fought?”
    “I did. I saw you upon the terrace, a fresh and unformed flower among the withered sticks. Now I see my mistake.”
    Phaedra tightened her grip on Valens’s arm and pulled. He hesitated a moment and then let her draw him closer. “It was you who suggested that I bargain for my next husband. I would never think of such a thing on my own.”
    He closed the gap between them until they almost touched. “You would have, no doubt.”
    So, this is desire. Two halves pulled to one another, damn the consequences. Heat collected in the space between their bodies until Phaedra’s skin felt too tight. She moved in, closer still. She looked up at Valens. His breath washed over her and she caught the scent of costmary, like balsa wood, mixed with leather, and salt from his skin. With it, an underlying smell Phaedra could not catalog and decided it was the aroma of a fit and virile man.
    Valens lifted his hand. He held it a hairsbreadth from her face. He seemed to want to touch her but would not allow himself to do so. Even she, a sheltered patrician daughter, knew that gladiators should not touch aristocratic women, especially married virgins. She also knew that she should not crave his touch. Yet she did. More than a want, it was a need, like a need to draw breath. Leaning toward him just a bit, she placed her cheek in his palm.
    He leaned toward her, his mouth close to hers. She ached to take this man inside her. It welled up from a primal place that existed before Phaedra, or Valens, or this garden, or even Rome herself. She longed to hold him, to caress him, to taste him, and to learn of all the ways men and women were different and yet complemented each other.
    Phaedra hesitated. Outside of this place, and this moment, she belonged to Marcus. True, her husband had done nothing to deserve her affection or loyalty beyond providing her father with financial security. At the same time, he had done nothing to warrant an unfaithful wife, either. Could