Page 21 of Thawed Gladiator Thrax

“Look.” I scroll through the images. “It’s quite common among wrestlers and boxers. There have been advances in surgery, painless surgery, to correct the appearance, if that’s something you’d be interested in.”

Thrax leans in, studying the pictures with intense curiosity. “Painless surgery?” He doesn’t hide the disbelief in his voice. Iimagine the field surgeries he probably witnessed in hisludusor the arena were anything but painless.

“Yes. Painless surgeries. I’m sure Varro and Laura would approve the operation if you wanted. They’re in charge of the finances for the project.” I pause, then add, “I’d go with you, you know. To the surgery. I’d be there when you wake up from the medicine that puts you in a deep sleep and keeps you from feeling pain during the procedure. There will be pain afterward, of course, but there is medicine that will help with that too.”

He gently takes the phone from me. As soon as I show him how, he’s enlarging before-and-after pictures as skillfully as if he’d owned a smartphone his entire life. When he looks up from the screen, his gaze finds mine. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across his face—a genuine, warm smile that reaches his eyes and makes my heart clench.

“You would do that?” he asks softly, his voice filled with wonder.

I nod, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. “Of course. That’s what friends are for, right?”

Thrax’s smile widens and warmth spreads through my chest. In this moment, I realize just how much I’ve come to care for this man. And judging by the look in his eyes, I think he’s starting to care for me, too. And, even better, I think he trusts me.

Chapter Twenty

Thrax

Skye’s kindness continues to surprise me, even though I should expect it by now. Her offer to come with me to surgery, to be there when I wake up, strikes a chord deep within me. When was the last time someone other than Caecelia cared about me like this?

Never.

As I look into her eyes, shining with genuine concern, a startling thought occurs to me. Could Skye have feelings for me? The idea seems impossible, yet the evidence is right in front of me. The way she squeezes my hand, her soft smiles, the blush that colors her cheeks when our eyes meet. That after I soiled her shoes, she ran after me and waited for me to make sure I was all right.

For the first time, I admit to myself that I’m attracted to her. There’s a pull toward Skye that I can no longer ignore. Her intelligence, kindness, and beauty all draw me in like a sailor to the sirens’ call.

My heart races as I consider my next move. In my past, intimacy was seldom a choice and never filled with affection. It was usually forced upon me, a source of pain and shame. But this… this is different. This is my choice. For once, I have the power to say no. Or yes.

I want to kiss her, but how do I begin? Do I ask? Certainly no one asked me. And I never saw my fellow gladiators ask thescortawho came to service them after they’d won in the arena.

But taking without asking sounds like a terrible idea.

As our gazes lock, the world around us fades away. Time stands still, and the only thing that matters is the moment stretching between us. My heart pounds, each beat echoing through my ears and filling the silence.

Slowly, tentatively, I reach up and cup Skye’s cheek, feeling the softness of her skin under my roughened fingertips. Her blush deepens, and she bites her lip nervously, her eyes darkening with emotion. The room is filled with anticipation, and I can’t help but lean closer.

Our position is awkward, but the gentlest curl of my fingers against her shoulders brings her to stand next to my bedside as though she is a puppet and I’m the puppeteer. In this position, our heads are perfectly aligned with me sitting up and her standing between my knees.

I shouldn’t wonder if she wants this, too. She’s standing close, her warm breath drifting across my face, her gaze locked with mine, her eyes urging me to kiss her.

I ease the phone from her hand and set it on the bedside table. I don’t want to hear the magical woman’s voice, nor do I want Skye to hear some other Roman’s voice when I speak. Words, right now, seem less important than actions.

Still, I hesitate, questioning if I’m misreading her signs. When she offers a sweet, small smile and lets her eyelids drift closed, I lean closer.

Our lips meet with a tender touch, a soft brush of flesh on flesh that sends shivers to the back of my neck and up my scalp, telling me just how much this woman affects me.

“Skye.Amabilis. Dices aliquando quid significet nomen tuum. Im ‘certus est pulcherrimum.” Lovely. Someday you’ll tell me what your name means. I’m sure it’s beautiful,the machine repeats. But it was my whisper, close enough to graze her cheek, that she truly heard.

This time it’s her that presses forward, kissing me with tenderness, then exhaling a sigh of pleasure. Her lips are warm and soft, like a summer breeze against my skin.

She slips her soft palm to my nape, as though she wants to hold me here, to keep me from pulling away. If the machine wouldn’t reveal my secrets, I would tell her,Ego non iens usquam—I’m not going anywhere.

I tuck her closer, both my hands gripping her back, taking care not to make her feel overpowered. Then, instead of diving into our next kiss, I nuzzle her neck and catch the fullness of the scent behind her ear. Ah, she smells likerosablossoms in spring. I still remember the scent from my days on the farm so very long ago.

Goosebumps march across her skin as she squirms, but her soft, barely there moan tells me the movement indicates pleasure. I kiss along the path of her bumps, bringing both comfort and a surge of new waves.

She nuzzles behind my good ear and whispers. I know her words will be something good even before the translator says, “It seems like I’ve waited ages for this.”

Ages? I’ve waited ages, too. Two millennia, to be exact.

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