Page 10 of Thawed Gladiator: Cassius

What secrets might be hiding behind Cassius’s shy smile?

Chapter Eight

Cassius

“Ready for a change of scenery?” Diana asks as I approach the corral, her voice warm and welcoming in the bright morning light. She’s leaning casually against the fence, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

“Always,” I reply, trying to ignore the way my body seems to come alive at the sight of her. “What’s the plan?”

Diana gestures toward the open field beyond the barn, dotted with wildflowers and glowing in the soft sunlight. “You’ve been confined to the corral for over a week. I figured it’s time to stretch our legs—yours and the horses. Some fresh air, new sights, and smells. The doctors say scent is great for memory recall.”

I glance past her at the field. Leaving the safety of the corral feels momentous, like venturing into uncharted territory. Small steps, I guess, will lead to bigger ones. “Sounds good.”

As we ready the horses, we work together effortlessly. She hands me a brush, and I take it without needing to ask what to do. The simplicity of the moment steadies me.

“You’re getting the hang of this,” she observes, tossing me a halter for Atlas.

I manage to slip it on and secure the lead without fumbling—no small victory. “I’ve had a good teacher.”

Her cheeks flush faintly, making the freckles scattered across her nose stand out, and she ducks her head with a soft laugh. “High praise, indeed. Ready?”

We set out into the field, the uneven ground forcing me to focus on every step. Diana walks beside me, close enough to catch me if I stumble, but far enough to give me room to find my footing.

“So,” she says after a few moments of easy silence, “up for a little game?”

“A game?” My tone is cautious.

In a flash, I have my first memory since I woke up on theFortunatwo thousand years ago with my head feeling as though it was pounded with the butt end of a battleaxe. The moving picture in my mind isn’t hazy at all. It’s a naked woman on all fours. She’s on a bed, her ass facing me. She slowly turns herhead and gazes at me over her shoulder, flashing me a smile that would tempt Ulysses to abandon his journey.

“Satis ludos. Futue me, Cassius.” Enough games. Fuck me.

After commanding me to fuck her, she puts her beautiful cheek on the bedding and lifts her ass higher as she giggles temptingly. The memory flies away as quickly as it arrived.

Diana asked if I wanted to play a game. Is that what triggered my memory? A bedroom game with a beautiful woman flaunting a perfect ass?

One thing I know for certain. I will never reveal any of this to Diana, whose smile widens. A teasing edge softens the words. “A memory game. It’s simple. I’ll pick flowers for you to smell to see if it sparks something.”

“Flowers, huh? A little less dangerous than gladiatorial combat, I guess.”

Diana chuckles, shaking her head. “And here I thought you’d jump at the chance to show off your skills as a wildflower expert.”

I scoff, but find myself smiling. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

She stops to pluck a bright yellow bloom with a dark center. “Black-Eyed Susan,” she says, holding it out.

I take it, the cheerful color lifting my spirits even as the scent stirs nothing but faint curiosity.

Next, she picks a delicate cluster of tiny white flowers. “Queen Anne’s lace.”

The sweet, earthy smell brushes the edges of something familiar, but the memory refuses to form.

“And this one,” she says, crouching to retrieve a stalk with dozens of small pink petals, “is allium. Also known as garlic.”

“Allium is a Latin word.” I’m excited to remember this, though no mind-pictures come with it. “We used it in cooking.”

Her expression lights up. “That’s amazing, Cassius! You’re remembering.”

The warmth in her voice ignites something within me, a mixture of pride and yearning. “It’s just a word,” I say, shrugging, though her enthusiasm makes it feel like more.

---