Stunned by her mother’s reaction, Cleo took longer to respond than he did. Seconds later, pandemonium broke out in the entryway as everyone reacted to Atia’s collapse. More than half a dozen questions pelted him from all directions, and everyone was pushing forward, trying to offer assistance.
“E
nough
,” he roared. The noise stopped abruptly. “Campanella. Secure the house. The rest of you go back to bed. There’s nothing more to see here.”
He turned toward the stairs then paused. “Phaedra. Come with me. The Prim
a Consul
may need you.”
“I’m coming, too,” Cleo exclaimed, a worried note in her voice.
As he reached the second floor and strode down the hall, Atia stirred in his arms. He turned his head slightly to look at her. Although she was still pale, her expression had regained that regal look that said she was the one in charge.
“I’m quite capable of walking, Lysander.” The command in her voice was one he knew better than to ignore. He stopped just short of her door and immediately set the Prima
Consul
on her feet.
“Damn it, Mother. Why do you have to be so stubborn? You just passed out.” The irritation in Cleo’s voice layered the worry that ran deeper.
“I’m feeling much better,” Atia said quietly as she slowly walked the last few steps to her room. “But I do think I’ll lie down.”
“I’ll come with you to make sure you don’t pass out again. We don’t need a martyr on our hands.” Cleo sent him a look of angry disgust. “We’ve already got enough of those in here as it is.”
Atia didn’t object to Cleo’s gentle bullying. Instead, she gave her daughter a nod of acquiescence. The two women entered Atia’s room, but the Prim
a Consul
stopped Cleo from closing the door. Her expression unyielding, she looked directly at him.
“You are to let Phaedra see to your wounds.”
“I have a scratch on my arm, nothing more.”
“A scratch that would require stitches if a healer was unavailable.” The Prim
a Consul
arched her eyebrow in an autocratic manner. “Phaedra.”
“I’ll see to his injuries,” Phaedra said quietly, a determined look on her face.
As Atia slowly closed her door, he caught the sly gleam in the woman’s eyes.
Merda
, the woman was interfering where she shouldn’t. Furious, he turned his head and saw Phaedra studying him with an amused expression on her beautiful features.
“Let’s get this over with,” he growled.
“My pleasure.” The sultry note in her voice tightened every muscle in his body. “It would be best to do this in your room so you can rest afterward.”
Christus
, they’d already been down this road earlier. He didn’t need a repeat. The memory of holding her in his arms knotted his muscles with tension. With a growl of frustration, he sent her an abrupt nod then headed toward the staircase and up to the third floor. His place was definitely better than hers. At least he could retreat to his bedroom and lock the
door behind him.
When he entered his small apartment, he headed straight for the couch. At least here, the torment of having her so close would be a little less painful. He wasn’t sure he could keep her from seeing deep beneath the surface when it came to his thoughts. But he needed every ounce of concentration he had to hide the monster inside him. It was going to be bad enough watching her take on the pain of his injury.
The idea of her sensing the monster inside him shot a bolt of panic through him. Deus, maybe he should just let her see him for what he was. He crushed the thought with one blow. No, he refused to cause her any pain. He knew how much she hated the Praetorians for what they’d done to her parents. He’d find a way to hide his secret from her. The thought of being the catalyst for bringing her past to the surface—hurting her—was the last thing he wanted.
The scent of her filled his senses as she brushed past him. Sweet. Oh so sweet. Like a tangy fruit, fresh and ripe for the picking. He suppressed a groan as she sank down onto the sofa beside him.
Il Christi omnipotentia
, he didn’t think he could do this. He could only hope he’d buried his secret deep enough. Touching her would be like entering the Elysium Fields one more time, all the while knowing that in mere seconds someone would throw him back into hell. She turned toward him, and he knew it was too late.
Chapter 12
ATIA stared at her daughter standing at the foot of her bed. Cleo’s expression wavered between worry and irritation. She suppressed a sigh. It was understandable that Cleo would be confused by her behavior.
“Do stop acting like I’m on the verge of death, c
ara
. I fainted.”
“Something you’ve never done before in your life, Mother.”
“I’m simply feeling the stress of the search. I know we’re close to finding the artifact, but I’m afraid the Praetorians aren’t far behind us.”
“I could maybe buy that story, if it wasn’t for the fact that you fainted. Stress didn’t have a fucking thing to do with your swooning.” Cleo emphasized the word “swooning” in a somewhat sarcastic fashion. “That message scared the piss out of you.”
“Must you use such language?”
“If memory serves, not more than fifteen minutes ago, you said f
otte
.”
“Touche,” she muttered with irritation at having her transgression thrown back in her face.
“So who’s Marcus, and who’s the boy?”
Cleo folded her arms across her chest and eyed Atia closely. How like her father she was—strong, determined, and so sure of herself. Although they were often at odds with one another, it did nothing to dampen the love she felt for Cleo. She was proud of her daughter. Atia waved her hand in denial and shrugged, her brain working fast to form a plausible answer.
“Marcus is someone I knew a long time ago. I was startled to hear his name.”
“Did he know Father?” Cleo’s expression was one of curious speculation.
“Yes, he did, as a matter of fact.” It was always best to tell the truth as much as possible.
“And the child?”
“So many questions.” She frowned. “There are s
ome
things only the Prim
a Consul
is privy to. You know that.”
“I get that,” Cleo said with a disgusted look. “But I’ve never seen you react like that to
anything
before. Are you in some sort of trouble?”
“Your imagination is f
ar
too vivid, c
arissima
. It startled me to hear from Marcus.” She forced a smile to her lips.
“O
bviously.
I can’t remember the last time you said f
otte
. In fact, I can’t remember you ever saying it until tonight. That’s two firsts in the space of five minutes.”
“All right. I think we’ve now established the fact that I said the word,” Atia snapped. “Might we move on to a different subject? Perhaps the topic of sleep? Something we’ve both had little of tonight. Lysander isn’t in need of rescue, and I would like a little more sleep.”
She knew that wasn’t going to happen. There was no possible way she’d be able to sleep now. Now that Marcus had found Gabriel. She winced, and Cleo sent her a suspicious look.
“Why do I think you’re up to something?”
“I am
not
up to anything. I simply want to rest.” Exasperated, she sent her daughter a stern look. “And unless I’m mistaken you were still up when Marco woke up the house.”
“I couldn’t sleep.” Cleo’s gaze shifted away from hers. It made her heart ache for her daughter.
“Again? He’s not worth losing sleep over, c
arissima
.”
“I wasn’t losing sleep over Michael.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Because you’re my mother, and you’re terrified I won’t ever blood bond with anyone.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She sniffed indignantly. “I don’t care whether you exchange a blood bond with someone or not. Your happiness is all that matters to me.”
“I am happy. You just don’t want to accept that I’m not ready for any type of commitment.”
“And it’s the why that concerns me.”
“There is no
why
, Mother. I’m doing what men have been doing for centuries. I’m playing the field and making up for lost time on behalf of the female sex.”
Atia closed her eyes at Cleo’s flip, yet stubborn, denial. She knew just how much her
daughter had loved Michael Giordano, and when the
bastardo
had betrayed her … the thought made her wince. Cleo had never tolerated people who lied to her.
A shiver skated down her back. What would she do if she ever learned her mother had been lying to her since she was a baby? De
us
, she should have told her the truth years ago. What good would it have done? Her eyes flew open as Cleo touched her shoulder then leaned over to kiss her cheek.
“Get some rest, okay?” Cleo said as she headed out of the room. With the door open, she paused. “I love you,
Mamma
.”
“I love you, too, c
arissima
.”
The love in her daughter’s eyes made Atia’s heart ache as she watched the bedroom door close behind Cleo. Tired, she pinched the bridge of her nose as she picked up her cell phone off the nightstand. With a tap of the screen, the phone displayed a colorful wallpaper and the time. Six fifteen. It would be dawn soon. She stared at the screen of the phone until it dimmed.
Restless, she stood up and paced the floor. She knew she needed to go back to bed, but the idea of lying down to do nothing more than toss and turn was far from appealing. Palatine Hill. It had been more than ten years since she’d last visited La Terrazza del Ninfeo. She’d gone there to think before she accepted the mantle of Prim
a Consul
. There was a peaceful serenity about the crumbling aviary that always soothed her senses. It helped her think.
She released a derisive laugh at the bittersweet sensation drifting through her. No. It wasn’t the only reason she was always compelled to visit La Terrazza del Ninfeo whenever she could. She uttered a sharp noise of self-disgust. Ridiculous. She went because she enjoyed its beauty. She silenced the laughter in her head as if she were swatting a fly.
The ruins were in the middle of one of the most popular tourist spots in Rome, which made it relatively safe, but in the early-morning hours, it was still dangerous. Ignacio wouldn’t be happy that she wanted to go out at such an early hour, particularly not after the excitement with Lysander.
The need to escape the confines of her room exploded inside her, and with a curse, she reached for her cell phone. The man could always send one of the other fighters with her if he didn’t want to go. He wouldn’t. She quickly punched a text message into the phone then pressed the send button.
In the last several hours, a distinct chill had settled over the city. It had cooled her room enough for her to know she’d need more than just the sweater she wore. She quickly retrieved a lightweight jacket from the closet then headed downstairs. When she reached the foyer, she waited impatiently for Ignacio to join her.
She grimaced as she remembered how frantic Ignacio had been the other day when she’d eluded him to meet with Marcus. She’d tried to explain without revealing any secrets, but it hadn’t prevented the man from reading her the riot act. A sigh broke past her lips.
Ignacio Firmani was a good man. He’d been good to her
and
Cleo. The man doted on Cleo now, just as he had when she was a baby. Over time, he’d become such a part of their lives that when she took the rite of ascension into the office of Prim
a Consul
, it had been natural to ask him to act as her
Celeris
and head of security. Ignacio had said yes and nothing else. Just yes.
A disgruntled growl echoing above her head made her look up to see her
Celeris
coming down the steps with a dark expression on his craggy features. Clearly unhappy about the early-morning hour, Ignacio came to a halt in front of her and bowed slightly.
“You have need of me, il
mia signora
.”
“I want to see the sunrise from La Terrazza del Ninfeo.”
“The sunrise.”
It was a statement, but she heard the question in the sardonic note in his voice as he nodded at her with a jerk of his head. Even if his voice had been emotionless, she would have known what he was thinking. Aware that he had to be tired, she shook her head.
“Never mind. We’re both tired, and you need your rest,” she murmured.
She shouldn’t have called him. She should have called Benedict or Tony.
“I’m not that damn old,” he muttered as he eyed her closely before turning away to head toward the rear of the house. “And I won’t get much rest knowing you’re running around Rome without me.”
“At least I called you this time and didn’t take off on my own, vecc
hio amico
,” she said in a placating tone as she followed him. The moment the words were out of her mouth, he came to an abrupt halt and whirled around to lean into her with a dark expression.
“And the next time you do something so idiotic, I’m going to keep you under lock and key.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said with an exasperated smile. “You can’t lock up the Prima
Consul
.”
“I wouldn’t,” he snapped. “I’d be locking up Atia Vorenus, a stubborn woman who’s too blind to see what’s right in front of her.”
Startled by his behavior, she swallowed hard as his eyes narrowed at her. There was a flash of fire in his dark eyes that surprised her even more. Beneath the calm, there was a passion in him she’d not seen until now. Or had she deliberately refused to see it? Either way, she didn’t know how to react to it.
“I am
not
stubborn.” She latched onto the safest portion of his statement.
“I see.” He closed the distance between them even more until there was only an inch or two between them. “So the fact that you refuse to acknowledge the second portion of my comment is not being stubborn.”
“I … I am most definitely not blind either,” she snapped. “I see quite well, thank you very much.”
