Page 16 of Royally Roma
“I have no intention of letting you out of my sight.” He took a step closer, diminishing the distance she’d put between them. “Happy now?”
She ordered her feet to move again. They flagrantly disobeyed and remained rooted to the spot. “Your happiness is what matters here. I’m just the guide.”
“At my disposal, are you?” The gleam in his eyes was nothing short of wicked.
Her breathing grew shallow.Breathe, just breathe. And for goodness’ sake, relax.It’s a paycheck. A hefty one.
She lifted her chin. Disaster might be flirting with her, but she didn’t have any intention of flirting back. “So long as you’re footing the bill, I am.”
Something indecipherable passed through his gaze. Then it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced once again with that intense, probing way he had of looking at her. “Now that we’ve got that sorted, shall we proceed?”
He glanced at the massive queue of people waiting at the entrance and frowned. Clearly Mano Romano wasn’t a man accustomed to waiting in line.
Displeased or not, at least his focus was no longer centered exclusively on her. She was grateful for the respite, however brief. “Don’t worry about the crowd. You get to bypass the queue since you’re with me.”
His lips twitched ever so slightly. Why couldn’t she seem to stop looking at his mouth? “How fortunate. I suppose it pays to have friends in high places.”
She shrugged. “It’s part of what you’re paying for. The touring companies get to use a different entrance.”
“After you, then.”
She led him past the general admission entrance toward one of the great stone archways closer to the Arch of Constantine that led to the Palatine Hill and Circus Maximus. Once past the mob of tourists, she slowed to a stop.
“This is where we go in.” She pointed to the entrance gate, one of only four unnumbered arches that composed the ruins of the ancient amphitheater. “It’s funny. In a way, this system mirrors how spectators entered the Colosseum in ancient Rome when the gladiator games were in full swing.”
Mano lifted a brow. “Really? The gladiators had private guides, as well? I hadn’t heard.”
“Of course they didn’t. They were slaves. I know it’s fashionable to romanticize them, but there was nothing poetic or heroic about being a gladiator. Over half a million of them lost their lives here.”
Mano’s smile faded. “Half a million?”
“Yes. Half a million. They entered the arena throughPorta Sanavivaria, the Gate of Life, over there between gates nineteen and twenty.” She pointed toward the far east side of the building. “If they were successful, they left through the same gate.”
His brow furrowed. “And if they weren’t?”
“If they lost, they exited through the gate directly opposite, theLibitinarianGate.” He looked slightly relieved. Clearly he wasn’t getting it. “Also known as the Gate of Death.”
“The Gate of Death,” he repeated. His gaze met hers and held. “What, pray tell, does that have to do with how we’re entering the building? Are you planning on clobbering me over the head in there and dragging me out through the death gate? Because I hadn’t realized I’d signed on for such an authentic experience.”
As if incapacitating him was in the realm of possibility. This man was a force to be reckoned with. “Loosen up, Mano Romano. I have no plans to throw you to the lions. All I meant was that since its inception, the Colosseum has been strictly governed by social structure. The masses entered the building through one of the seventy-six numbered entrances, according to the seat numbers etched on their marble tickets. The other four entrances were ceremonial—the Gate of Life, the Gate of Death, and the north and south entrances, which were reserved for the magistrates, Roman officials, and royalty.”
He looked away, swallowing hard. “Royalty?”
“Yes. Royalty. Although the Emperor Commodus had a special underground tunnel built that led all the way from the Imperial Palace to the Colosseum so he could travel without the threat of assassination. After thePassaggio di Commodowas built, the emperor usually arrived that way, through a tunnel elaborately decorated with frescoes, marble, and mosaics.”
He considered this for a moment. A moment in which Julia pretended not to notice how dreamy he looked standing in the rain, like a melancholy literary hero. “That certainly sounds...”
“Pompous?” She lifted a dubious brow.
Mano’s gray eyes narrowed. Julia had never seen such beautiful eyelashes on a man. It was hardly fair. But it had been an awfully long time since she’d been naïve enough to believe in the fairness of life. “Actually, I was going to say stressful.”
“Stressful? You think the emperor’s life was stressful?” Surely he was joking.
He didn’t crack a smile. His perfectly shaped lips remained in a perfectly straight line. But why was she looking at his lips again? “Absolutely. He was in charge of the entire Roman kingdom. That’s a great deal of responsibility, not to mention the fact that he feared being murdered as he traveled through the streets.”
She should smile and laugh off his comments. He was her client, after all. But he was also wrong. So very wrong. “Goodness, I hadn’t thought of it quite that way before. I’m sure the poor emperor had far more to worry about than the gladiators who had to fight one another to the death. Or even the sixty thousand slaves who were forced to build the Colosseum.”
He remained unfazed. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
