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

Valens. It was as he had feared—she had not wanted this marriage. Without thought he stood and moved to her side. He placed his palm on her shoulder. Her skin, soft and warm, with a hint of lean muscle underneath, enticed him to touch her more. Her silken gown draped over her collarbone and dipped low, allowing Valens a view of the valley between her breasts. Maybe she had requested him at her wedding. Like so many aristocratic women, the bride might want him as her bedmate.
    Did she purposely tempt him by appearing upset and then allowing him to offer comfort? He had been seduced in worse ways by worse women. His cock stirred and he breathed Phaedra’s scent, light and clean. She smelled of lavender and something else. Aloe, he decided.
    She looked at his hand, the point where their flesh joined, and then to his face. Her eyes were light blue, and he read sadness in them, not desire. The need to ease her suffering hit him like a fist. He stepped away. His hand fell to his side, damp and chilled in the balmy night.
    “Apologies,” he said, feeling more like an oaf than a god of the arena. “Allow me to take my leave.”
    “Stay, Gladiator. I need to return to the party.”
    As a slave, he was bound to do the bidding of all patricians, the bride included. He nodded and waited for her to walk away.
    She did not.
    She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, and his mouth went dry. Valens imagined pulling the bride to him, kissing her lip free, and exploring her mouth with his tongue. His cock jumped again.
    “Gladiator?” she said, ending his momentary fantasy.
    “My lady?”
    “Might I ask a question of you?” She did not wait for him to give his permission. “What thought you of fighting at a wedding banquet? Do you fight at them often?”
    “This was my first,” he said.
    She chewed on her lip again. “I thought that it might be so.”
    “Did it please you?” he asked hesitantly. “The fight?”
    “I enjoyed it more than I anticipated.”
    Warmth started in his middle and spread outward. It took a moment for Valens to recognize the feeling as joy. “I was honored to fight for you.” Valens pushed his fist hard into his leg. This woman was not his to protect or make happy.
    “Thank you, Gladiator,” she said. “I will let you return to your air, and I shall return to my duties.”
    She turned to walk away, as she should, out of his life forever. “Valens,” he said, just to see if she would remain for one moment more. “My name is not Gladiator. It is Valens Secundus.”
    She stopped and turned back to face him. He should never have called out to her. The wife of a senator, the daughter of one as well, would not want to be corrected by a mere gladiator.
    “Apologies, Valens Secundus.”
    She looked into the darkness and he followed her gaze. The lights from the house were visible through the surrounding foliage, yet the fountain drowned out the sounds of music and laughter. She looked back at him. Somehow she had aged years in a few seconds.
    “I think I shall remain here for a moment,” she said as she took a seat on the bench and smoothed her gown over her lap.
    That was it. She had dismissed Valens. He should not be surprised or injured, and yet he was. “Of course,” he said. “I should return to the party.”
    “Stay, Valens Secundus,” she said as he turned to leave. “I would have a word with you.”

Chapter 4
    Phaedra
    Why had she just asked the gladiator to stay? Perhaps it had nothing to do with his hazel eyes or the strength in his shoulders, or that his green tunic turned his skin a deeper shade of bronze. Perhaps she only wanted the company of a single person on a day when a room full of people overwhelmed her.
    Yet why him? Why not Fortunada? Phaedra knew that answer. Fortunada’s perfect marriage clearly illustrated the imperfections in Phaedra’s own. Her father, another person to whom she could speak, saw only the advantages of her union, leaving no room to understand her