Page 98 of Enslaved
She laughed in his face. “If you believe that, Lord Bath, you don’t know as much about women as you think.”
Lord God, the pleasure I’m going to have mastering her.
She glimpsed the dark wildness in his eyes and feared she had driven him too far. “Since I intend to get dressed and leave this room tomorrow, perhaps I’d better get some rest.”
“You may only get up if Dr. Wentworth and I agree,” he said firmly.
“We’ll see,” she said lightly as she escorted him to her door.
“If you think I’ll let you have your own way about everything, you don’t know me very well.”
“I know more about you than any woman has a right to,” she said softly, luring him on again before closing her chamber door in his face.
When she was alone, Diana walked over to the tall, mullioned windows. She pulled back the heavy drape and stood gazing out at the landscape. A fine dusting of snow covered the ground and lay along every limb of the stark black trees. The pale moonlight cast eerie shadows in every direction. The beauty of the night had a coldness about it. She had never known Aquae Sulis in winter, and she somehow felt cheated. They had left for Rome before the snow came. It had been cold, though. Her mouth curved as she remembered the fur leggings. Marcus had found them extremely erotic.
Marcus … Marcus. He was the reason she felt cheated. It had nothing to do with the season, nothing to do with Aquae Sulis. How would she get through the rest of her life without him? How would she get through tonight? Her fingertip traced his name on the wet windowpane. She sighed heavily. Daylight had effectively banished her fear, but in the darkness it crept back. Diana began to shiver. She ran back to the safety of the bed and pulled the covers high.
In his own chamber Mark Hardwick lay supine on the bed with his arms folded behind his head. He tried to relax, but found it almost impossible. His eyes traveled down his body to his sex, still in a state of arousal. Damn her, no wonder he couldn’t relax. And yet it wasn’t just rampant desire that made him tense.
The moment he had entered his chamber he had searched among his Roman history books to find the time period she had spoken of. The books verified everything she said. The Governor of Britannia was Seutonius Paullinus; the Procurator, Julius Classicianus. She had even called Boudicca by her authentic name, rather than Queen Boadicea, which everyone used today.
He searched the encyclopedia for a reference to the game of Robbers, but found nothing. He finally found the volume where he’d seen it mentioned, but all it said was:A Roman boardgame whose exact details could not be recovered.
Without referring to history books, he knew that Nero had been the Emperor of Rome at that time. Though everything Roman fascinated him, Mark’s gorge rose whenever he thought of the atrocities Nero had committed. At the inauguration of the Colosseum, nine thousand animals were reportedly killed. Nero was a madman who committed suicide, but not nearly soon enough. Mark’s mind shied away from contemplating what he had done to Christians.
Sleep was a million miles away. He left his bed and put on a robe, then he went to his desk. He was writing a book about the history of Bath that began when Claudius invaded Britain and established a spa for the military fed by hot natural springs that were called Aquae Sulis.
Mark pulled out a map he had drawn of Aquae Sulis and began to study it. Whenever he worked on his Roman projects, they absorbed him completely. As his body began to relax, his mind began to review the questions he had never been able to answer. Why did he have a consuming passion for all things Roman? Had he lived in the time when the Romans occupied Britain? He had always been open-minded enough to believe it was a possibility.
Now, however, new questions arose. Had he been a Roman? Had he been a general called Marcus Magnus? He liked the name. It seemed to fit. He threw down his pen and ran his fingers through his hair. He was being fanciful. He wanted to believe this fantasy because Diana was a part of it. He wanted to believe they had been lovers, so they could be lovers again. He was being ruled by his cock!
He’d been in a state of arousal so long, his testes ached. He glanced over to his bed and pictured her lying there. His imagination didn’t stop at the bed. He pictured her nude, lying in her bath, her golden hair floating about her creamy shoulders as she languidly soaped her beautiful, half-submerged breasts.
This was the result of a day of denial and restraint; what the hell would he be like after a long night of the same? He knew the only way to get her out of his system was to make love to her. It was midnight. The house was asleep. He could go down the hall to her room and carry her struggling to his bed. She tantalized him so much, he stood up from his desk and contemplated the door, his urgency almost bringing him to flash point.
Beneath the covers, as she began to get warm, Diana contemplated the long lonely night ahead of her, fraught with fear. And then a most comforting notion came to her. If she fell asleep, perhaps she would dream of Marcus. The thought was irresistible, luring her to drowsiness, then finally sleep. She tumbled deep into the abyss immediately and slept undisturbed until almost midnight. Then slowly she began to toss about.
Where was she? Dear God, she was back in the slave pens. She was fettered, and so were they, but close enough that they could reach out to touch her! She pulled away frantically, not wanting their loathsome touch. As she moved out of reach of one, another made a grab for her. “No, no,” she moaned desperately, tossing and turning this way and that to avoid the cruel hands.
By the time the massive guard came to take her to Circus Maximus, she was trembling uncontrollably.Dear God, don’t let this be happening! Why have I gone back in time again?She had gone through this once, now she had to face it all again, only this time it was worse. This time she knew what awaited her in the arena! Half mad with fear, she began to scream, and then by some miracle she broke away from the executioner and began to run.
Mark heard her scream of terror. He strode swiftly across his chamber and threw back the door. Diana was running down the darkened hallway that led from her room to his. She ran straight into his arms.
“I went back, I went back,” she cried, her body shaking so badly her teeth chattered. Her body was freezing cold, he could feel it beneath the fine cambric of her nightgown.
His powerful arms tightened about her and she clung to him desperately. “Diana, you’re safe. It was a nightmare.” A wave of protectiveness swept over him. He knew a deep need to protect her with his life, even if it was only from the darklings.
Chapter 31
He lifted her and carried her to the fire. Her arms about his neck clung desperately.
“Marcus, help me,” she begged.
“I’m Mark,” he said firmly, lowering himself into a chair before the fire, still holding on to her.
She was trembling like a frightened animal snared in a trap. She pressed her face into the hollow between his neck and his shoulder, and he stroked her hair and her back with a firm hand to imbue her with some of his strength.
“Diana, do you know where you are?” he demanded. His voice was deep, almost harsh. Instinctively he knew she needed his strength, not his gentleness. It felt as if she nodded her head. He loosened the stranglehold she had about his neck and held her hands in his. Her eyes were wide with fear, her breathing labored as if she’d been running for her life.
