Page 9 of The Legionary Seduction (Roman Heirs #2)

I n the evening, Max sat with Drusus and a few of their comrades around a low fire outside an open-air tavern. The soldiers had been subdued for most of the day after the announcement of Governor Avitus’s death, but now, with the help of some wine and the company of certain ladies, the mood was lifting. Laughter and jokes echoed back and forth. Drusus had a dark-haired lady nestled firmly in his lap, and they were in the midst of negotiating a price for her company that night.

One of her colleagues paused in front of Max, giving him a questioning look. He shook his head, and she moved on to flirt with another soldier. Since being stationed in Narbo, Max had occasionally sought nighttime company, but not since Volusia arrived. For some reason, it felt wrong to consort with another woman while Volusia was in the same city.

But now, Volusia was leaving, returning to Rome, and he’d never see her again. He heaved a mournful sigh. Apollo’s balls, when did he become so pathetic, moping around after a woman he could never have?

Across the fire, a female figure caught his eye, and his gaze snapped to her. Volusia .

No, you idiot . It was just another woman who bore a passing resemblance. At this rate, he was going to spend the rest of his life jumping every time he saw anything with breasts.

The figure lifted a pale hand to the scarf she wore over her head and shoulders, pulling it away from her face. Max caught a glimpse of golden hair. Firelight flickered on hazel eyes, and the woman’s gaze locked with Max’s.

Max nearly dropped his cup of wine . Fuck, it’s actually her. Behind Volusia, Iris lurked, glancing over the group of carousing soldiers with a sour expression on her face.

Volusia held his gaze for a moment, then moved away, into the shadowy alley between two buildings. Iris followed.

Max hastily put his cup of wine on the ground next to his stool and hurried after them, weaving through the maze of stools and benches that were clustered around the fire. What in Dis was Volusia doing here?

He entered the alley, squinting in the gloom as his eyes adjusted after the bright firelight. He didn’t see the two women, and took several steps further into the alley, his feet slipping on uneven cobblestones.

A hand grasped his arm from behind. Instinct and years of training kicked in, and he didn’t think before his other hand flew to the knife at his belt. He whipped out the blade and whirled around, breaking the person’s grip on his arm. He thrust the blade forward.

A feminine shriek made him stop short. Awareness slowly returned. He wasn’t being attacked by an enemy soldier or brigand. It was just Volusia, and now he’d pinned her against a wall with a knife to her throat.

She raised both hands, eyes wide. “Max,” she gasped. “It’s me!”

Iris marched forward and batted at his arm. “Get that thing out of her face.”

Max hurriedly lowered the dagger and sheathed it at his hip. “Sorry, but you shouldn’t sneak up on someone like that at night. Especially not a soldier.”

Iris snorted. “Only a soldier is stupid enough to mistake a tiny woman for an attacker.”

Max resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Speaking of attackers, don’t you know it’s dangerous to be out at night?”

“Of course we know that,” Iris said, her voice dripping with condescension. “My esteemed mistress has decided that this excursion to find you is worth being raped and murdered.”

Volusia crossed her arms. “I told you several times, we’re not going to be raped and murdered, Iris. If anyone bothers us, all I have to do is show my face”—she pulled down the scarf that covered her hair—“and they’ll leave us alone. No one would dare lay a hand on the governor’s wife—widow,” she corrected with a flinch.

She was probably right; military discipline was strict enough that no one would dare bother her. But that only went for the soldiers. There were plenty of others in Narbo who weren’t bound by military honor.

But Max sensed that she had not come here to be lectured about taking risks with her safety, so he set the matter aside. “I am sorry about Avitus. This must have been a great shock.”

Her face clouded. She glanced at Iris. “Would you keep watch over there, Iris? Make sure no one disturbs us.”

Iris gave a reluctant nod and headed to stand at the mouth of the alley, looking out over the street.

Volusia stepped nearer to him, and lowered her voice. “The reason I came here has to do with Avitus, actually.”

Max had to lean close to hear her. The scent of lavender from her clothes washed over him.

“I fear…I’m afraid…” Her words faltered, but Max waited patiently. “I think Avitus might have been murdered. By Petronax, or someone working for him.”

Murdered? A bolt of shock rippled down his spine, somehow managing to surpass even the surprise of Volusia being here. “Fuck,” he breathed.

Volusia went on to explain her reasoning, describing the tablet she’d found hidden in Avitus’s study and the words she had pieced together from it. Max’s stomach sank as he realized he believed her. Petronax had used his power as acting governor to hike up the tax rates for his own gain. And if Avitus had found out and objected, it made a horrible sort of sense that he’d end up dead.

“So what are you going to do?” he asked when she’d finished speaking.

She blinked at him. “You mean to say you believe me?”

Max shrugged. “Petronax may be my commander, but I know you better. And like you a lot more.”

She gave him a long look he couldn’t decipher. “Even if you believe me, I don’t think anyone else here will dare to side with me against him. So I’ll wait until I return to Rome and then bring my evidence to the consuls. My father has influence, as a former consul. He can help make sure I get listened to.”

It sounded like a good plan, so Max nodded. “All right. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“There is something I would ask of you.” Her hand stretched out in the shadows to find his. A spark of heat ran up his arm as her fingers brushed his palm. “I need someone I can trust on the journey to Rome. I know it’s asking a lot, but if you could arrange to be part of my escort—”

He tightened his fingers around hers. “I’ll speak to my centurion in the morning,” Max said without hesitation. It was a sacrifice; spending months journeying to and from Rome was not the kind of assignment that would be impressive enough to help in his quest for promotion. Furthermore, he hated Rome, even though his family lived there, and he had little desire to return.

But if Volusia asked it of him, he couldn’t say no.

“Oh, Max,” she whispered. “Thank you.” Suddenly, her arms were around his shoulders, pulling him into an embrace.

Her warmth surrounded him, blocking out all rational thought. His arms slid around her. Her head rested on his shoulder. For a long, blissful moment, nothing else existed but Volusia in his arms. Not Petronax, not the shade of Volusia’s dead husband, not even the increasingly raucous yells emanating from the group of soldiers on the street.

Volusia shifted, and he thought she was moving to break their embrace, but instead she tilted her face up and pressed her lips to his.

For ten years, he had wondered if his memory of their first kiss was colored by childhood exaggeration. Now, he discovered that kissing her was as heady as he remembered, if not more.

Her lips were tentative at first, but grew bolder after that first gentle brush. Instinct took over in Max. He anchored one arm around her waist. His other hand went to her chin, fingers brushing her throat. He gently angled her face to his, tilting her head back so his tongue could delve into her mouth.

She let out a soft sigh against his lips. Her hands tangled in his hair, giving a slight pull. He choked back a groan.

Iris coughed loudly from her position at the top of the alley. Volusia drew back, removing her hands from Max’s body. She gazed up at him, her eyes luminous in the darkness. “I-I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He had no idea what she was apologizing for, but he nodded as if he understood perfectly.

“I should go.” Volusia replaced her head covering, pulling it around her face and draping the ends over her shoulders.

“I’ll escort you back.”

She looked as if she wanted to refuse, but let out a sigh of acceptance. “Thank you.”

When they reached the start of the alley, Iris gave Max a scorching glare—as if he was the one who’d kissed Volusia. Nevertheless, Iris did suffer Max to walk ahead of them on the street that led back to the governor’s residence, keeping a wary eye out for trouble.

Max glowered at anyone who dared glance at the two women behind him, and they reached the house without incident. Volusia gave Max one last nod before she disappeared within the house.

Max ambled back to his comrades, still reeling from the events of the last quarter hour. Volusia thought Petronax had murdered her husband. He passed a hand over his lips. Even more shocking than her suspicions about Petronax, Volusia had kissed him.

And he’d promised to journey to Rome with her. Despite himself, joy surged in his chest at the prospect of at least one more month with her. Of course, he wouldn’t be free to speak to her on their journey, as he’d have to maintain the appropriate decorum in front of others, but at least he could look at her. Maybe they could steal a few moments alone…

He quickened his pace, trying to rein in his thoughts. There was no use in pining after her. Even though she was no longer married, she was still not for the likes of him. Her duty was now to her son, and no doubt she would soon find another powerful statesman to become her son’s stepfather. Max’s duty was to the army, and he had no business chasing a woman he could never have.