Page 9 of Thawed Gladiator: Cassius

Worked my ass off? I assume this is one of those idioms my English teacher mentioned. I decide not to ask about it.

As I walk away, I’m hit by a wave of exhaustion so intense my knees almost buckle. The headache that’s been building all morning tightens a band around my forehead. It’s all I can do to make it to my bunk.

Collapsing onto the narrow bed, I close my eyes against the pain. But even in the darkness, I see Diana’s smile, hear the warmth in her voice. It’s ridiculous, I know. I’ve just met this woman who’s named after the Roman deity of animals, hunting, and the moon. And yet…

Sleep claims me before I can finish the thought.

Chapter Seven

Diana

Laura handles all the finances at Second Chance, which seems appropriate since she discovered the chests of gold on theFortuna.She and Varro make a good team. He keeps the testosterone-fueled gladiators in line while she manages the trust fund she created for them and creates plans for money-making activities that will take care of everyone far into the future.

Although Laura assured me money isn’t a problem, I didn’t want to ask for much. Still, she insisted I have a little office. We’re converting one of the horse stalls to meet my needs. She wanted me to have an office in one of the tiny houses, but I refused. First, I didn’t want to hog a house meant for the gladiators. Second, I’d rather be here with the smell of hay and horses drifting through the window.

No furniture has arrived yet, so I dragged out a rickety chair from the farmhouse’s back porch and I’m balancing my laptop on my knees as I type my notes from today’s session. My fingers hover over the keys as I consider where to start.

“Cassius.”

Hell. I’ve known the guy all of two hours and my body is responding like a horny teen. I haven’t typed more than his name and my eyes flutter closed so I can picture him more clearly. I shake my head, trying to focus. This is a professional assessment, not a diary entry.

“Subject displays good initial rapport with horses. Demonstrates caution but not fear. Fine motor skills are slightly impaired, likely due to neurological issues. Tires easily and loses focus—sessions should be kept short with frequent breaks.”

There. That was professional, clinical. Not a word about the way his green eyes caught the sunlight, how his hair turned almost white in the harsh sun, or how his brow furrowed in concentration as he worked the brush through Atlas’s mane.

When I hear myself sighing, I force my attention back to the screen and type furiously, but soon my attention drifts back to the moment we met.

His eyes were warm and curious. Unlike most attractive men I’ve met, his gaze didn’t pause on my nose with obvious distaste. God, my nose. Not only is it clearly broken, making me look more like a prizefighter than a possible date, but every time I look in the mirror, I remember how it was broken—and whodid it. With my increased paychecks and reduced overhead, I’ve already promised myself that every spare penny is going into my plastic surgery fund.

Laura knocks and enters, a curious smile on her face. “How’d it go with Cassius?” Her eyebrows flash in genuine curiosity. Before I answer, she tuts and says, “We have got to get you some furniture. You’re working under a handicap.”

“It’s fine. I’m making do until the desk and chair arrive.” I add, perhaps a bit too quickly, “Things went well with Cassius. He’s… he’s got a natural way with the horses.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she says. “He could use a win right now.”

I nod, thinking of the sadness I’d glimpsed behind Cassius’s smile. “It can’t be easy,” I murmur. “He’s struggling in a lot of ways. Does he talk to anyone? Varro, maybe? He seems to be holding a lot in.”

“No.” Laura’s expression softens. “Varro’s tried, but Cassius has brushed him off, politely. That’s why your work is so important, Diana. You’re not just teaching him about horses, helping with stamina and balance. You’re giving him a connection to this new world, giving him a purpose.”

“I’ll do my best,” I promise. “I’m all in.”

“Of course. I knew you would be.” Laura leans closer and asks, “Have you wondered why I picked you for the job?”

Hell yeah, but I’m not sure I should admit it. Finally, I nod.

“We had dozens of applicants from all over the globe. Half the planet is fascinated by these men.” She pauses, then adds, “I picked you because somehow, I knew you’d be all-in, and I think the guys need that more than they need someone who knows how to keep a horse’s hooves… um, filed?”

“Trimmed,” I supply, but then I absorb what she said. I’d figured she’d hired me because I was local and might come cheap. But she wanted me for who I am.

“My head will be so swollen I won’t get through the barn door.” My chuckle is light, but Laura just smiles knowingly.

“Don’t work too late,” she says, her voice fading as the door swings shut behind her.

The quiet settles around me, broken only by the soft rustle of hay and the distant nicker of a horse. I glance down at my notes and try to refocus, but my fingers don’t move. Instead, my eyes drift to the empty doorway, and my thoughts stray to green eyes, a crooked smile, and a furrowed brow.

I huff and close the laptop with a sharp snap. “Professional,” I mutter to myself. “Stay professional.”

But even as I stand and head toward my car, the scent of hay and leather clinging to me, one thought refuses to leave me alone.

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