Ancient Ties (23 page)

Is that what this is?

Janney wasn’t even from his world. No, that wasn’t good enough. He had dismissed that reasoning when he was trying to get her into his bed. She was in his world now, and even if the Gods punished him by taking her away, he would still love her.

Marek scrubbed his face and head roughly with both hands.

Well, what am I going to do now? Janney is angry and hurt. She
walked out without speaking. Will she stay? Where else can she go?

Marek realized that he’d never really thought all this through. The woman was from the future. Neither of them should have become involved with the other. In fact, it would be better for her if they weren’t. If something happened to him, Janney could find another man easily enough. She’s beautiful, intelligent, and she knows the whole history of the world to

come. She’s soft, warm, and passionate. Any man would be glad to have her.

His lips firmed into a flat line, Marek’s grip tightened on the solacing goblet of wine that he’d been nursing all night long.

Furiously, he hurled the delicate Castor-ware goblet across the peristyle to shatter against a far column.

I’m not letting Janney Forrester warm another man’s bed.

The picture of Janney being mauled by the likes of Glaucus Orban Tertius, his detested co-commander, rankled him. No, not rankled; it infuriated him.

She’s mine.

Mt. Olympus

The golden pillow flew across the heavens and smacked Mars a direct hit in the back of his head. Incensed that his crown of grape leaves drooped over one eye, he straightened the wreath and turned to glare at Venus. “You are on dangerous ground, my dear.”

“I am on no such thing, my dear. You, on the other hand, are in so much trouble.” Venus undulated sensuously toward him. Her expressive features and lush body promised him uncountable physical delights, but just before she leaned down to kiss him—he thought she was going to kiss him—Venus glared at him nose to nose and snarled, “You did that on purpose.”

“I do not know what you mean,” Mars countered, but ineffectively.

“You know full well that you brought on the dream to my Marek. You wanted Janney Forrester to learn the truth about him.”

“Venus, my love, he is married. Does not this woman have a right to know that?”

“I, for one, am not fooled by your pathetic attempts at subterfuge. You think that causing a rift between them would bring Marek back into your bloodthirsty control.” Spearing him with a look of utter contempt, Venus continued, “Marek is in love with her and now realizes it. He will never come back to you. He is gone from you forever, Mars. Do not forget that; and do not attempt to influence him again.”

No one takes a soldier away from Mars; and no one, Venus included, orders him about like a child. Mars seethed, his blood roiling. This is what comes with a mere Goddess thinking she is the equal of the mighty God of War. We will see who governs Marek’s future.

The first words Janney heard when she emerged from her room were Marek’s barked order.

“Eligius! Have my horse saddled. I’m going out.”

For all those imprisoned hours alone, when she’d paced and stewed, she had gone over Marek’s story. Sifting. Analyzing.

Her heart broke when she thought about the death of the young boy in battle. Of course, she was sorry that he’d lost his wife, leaving his son motherless. How could he leave like that? She couldn’t imagine abandoning a child, no matter what the emotional pain. Her own memories of her father leaving flooded back.

“No, don’t.” The whispered plea did not stop the hurt.

Marek was a soldier. He was always in control of himself.

Never let his guard down, at least while awake. When she forced herself to think about his actions since they’d been at his villa, Janney admitted he’d been honest and fair in dealing with the people living on his lands. He’d also been detached. Children, especially, flocked to him because he was mysterious and awe-inspiring, but his manner with them had been disinterested—

half smiles and abstracted hair ruffling. He was cool. Except, when they had sex. Then, of course, he was hot. Everyone knew all men lived for sex.

After her dad’s death, Janney was forced, by her mother’s total collapse, to take control. Even at twelve, she’d had to be the strong one. That was probably one of the reasons she was a teacher. She could be in control of a classroom. Then her control had begun to slip. She’d lost her marriage, and she’d bizarrely lost her century.

Janney picked her way around the shards of pottery in her room, carefully treading around what she’d thrown against the walls—bowls, plates, a pot of flowers.

Damn him. How dare he pretend all this time that he was free?

Why had she never asked? She just assumed.

Men! Oh, God, what am I going to do now?

I can’t hide in here forever. He has to take me back to Bath.

Janney had to think of the town as it was named in her time.

She had to concentrate on getting back to the Twenty-first Century. The only place to do that was through the doorway in the villa at Bath.

I have to take control again and go home.

Having made her decision, Janney straightened her tunic, splashed cool water on her face, and bathed her puffy, irritated eyes. She opened her door just in time to hear him bellow.

“I’m going out.”

“Don’t you dare leave me here now.” Janney saw Marek disappearing through the archway to the front courtyard, and she stormed after him.

“I want to go back to Bath. You said you’d take me back when I wanted to go.”

Janney skidded to a stop when he turned on her with a fierce look that she figured emasculated his troops. Not her. He looked worse than she felt, his eyes bleary and red-rimmed, his cheeks and jaw outlined in dark morning stubble. She still wanted him. Fool that she was. Her stomach roiled ominously.

Her senses wide awake. Janney had to keep her face free of expression, especially her eyes. She must not show him her distress—or her desire.

Marek stood his ground. “No.”

“I don’t belong here. There’s nothing for me here.” She’d been living in a fool’s paradise all these weeks with him. She had begun to relax and feel comfortable in this new life.

“I have to go back.” Janney’s voice was a quavery whisper.

She leaned back against a column borrowing its support, pressing her palms on its smooth, cold surface.

“You tried the doorway in Aquae Sulis many times and nothing happened.” Marek, sullen and stubborn, took a step closer to her.

“Well, I have to try again,” she rasped, hugging herself protectively. “And don’t touch me.” Incredulous, she stared at his hand, suspended in reaching for her. “Marek, you lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie,” he pitifully countered.

“You lied by not telling me anything! You’re married! It doesn’t matter that you haven’t seen them in…what…in five years? You’re still married.”

“Would it have made any difference if I had told you?” He looked at his hand as if mystified that it was out there with nothing to hang on to. Then he raised his gaze to her face challenging her to dispute him.

The backs of her hands tingled, the sign that she was emotionally overwhelmed. “I suppose you’re going to tell me that she doesn’t understand you. The married man’s justification.”

Marek’s head popped up, his expression one of surprise.

“Of course she understands me. We understand each other. I told you that it’s a marriage of convenience. It has nothing to do with you.”

“You ass. You’re just so damn sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

Janney angrily poked his chest.

“Don’t hit me.” The blaze in his eyes forced her to back up.

“I’m not hitting you. I’m poking you.” Janney continued poking at him as he continued pursuing her.
Idiot!

“Listen, Janney, I told you it was a marriage of convenience.

I don’t love her.”

“Oh, well then, that makes everything okay.” Blood pounded through her temples. Frustration, fear, fury, confusion all boiled to the surface, and Janney reacted without thinking, springing at him and striking him across the face with her open palm. They both froze, the snap of the stinging slap echoing in their ears. Their raspy breathing the loudest sounds blotting out

even the rush of the fountain’s water. Appalled, Janney’s whole body shook with shame at what she’d done. She’d never hit another living being, and now she’d hit him twice. Her fists clenched tightly at her sides.

Marek’s eyes narrowed with surprise, and his nostrils flared with indignation. The muscles in his jaw and neck tightened. He was a warrior. Bigger and stronger than she was. He could kill her. Janney had never seen him so angry and had no idea what he’d do.

Too stunned to scream, Janney felt herself flying weightlessly through the air, and then hit the water hard. It was still too early in the day for the sun to have heated the fountain in the center of the peristyle and the cold water quickly bit through the thin layers of her tunic. Pushing herself up to her feet awkwardly, she ran her hands through her wet hair flattening it to her head.

“Of all the…” Whirling on him, she sputtered, “You rat!”

She waded to the edge of the pool on the opposite side of him and climbed out. “I can’t believe you did that.”

Janney turned to find him staring at her from across the fountain. Saw the change in his expression, his eyes wide and hot, his lips open. It took her one second to realize what he was staring at. Of course. Her tunic was plastered to her body. The oldest wet T-shirt contest in history.

Janney’s body flamed—inside—the outside was still covered in goose bumps. Retaliation. She was going to make him pay for dumping her like that. Moving quickly around the fountain, Janney forced Marek to turn to face her.

“How dare you? Who do you think you are?” She poked him in the chest with her fingers backing him inexorably to the fountain. “I’m the one who’s mad. You don’t have anything to be mad about. You’re the lying jerk making a fool out of me.”

The marble edge caught him in the backs of his knees.

Marek’s eyes flew wide with surprise. He gasped. His hand snaked around her waist, and then they were both wallowing in the water. Still in his grip, she lay flattened on top of him,

snuggled up tightly. He sat up, speared his hands through her curls to tip her head up. His pupils were huge.

The suddenness of their freefall, then his hands on her, stunned her. Janney barely noticed the water sloshing around them. The man, the heat of his skin, even in the cool water, the strength of his fingers around her waist, were her only focus.

Against every good sense, she still wanted him. The heat in his eyes said he’d never stopped wanting her.

Janney shivered, and not just from cold water. Her face flamed. She was fighting it and didn’t know if she could win. Did she want to win? If winning meant not having him any longer?

With a barely suppressed groan, Marek picked Janney up again in his arms, waded to the edge of the pool, effortlessly climbed out. She clung to him, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. She knew she shouldn’t fall for this caveman routine.

He’d been wrong to keep her in the dark, but when he touched her, held her, looked at her with those piercing chocolate-fudge eyes, all she wanted was to lie beneath him and submit to whatever he wanted to do to her. Not that she didn’t have a few ideas of her own.

Marek shoved open the door of his room, and then latched it shut without dislodging Janney from his arms. “We’re not leaving here until we straighten this out,” he declared.

“Meaning straighten it out in your favor, I suppose. Marek, put me down.” She wiggled.

Acquiescing for the moment because he felt cold in his wet clothes, he put her down and pulled his tunic off over his head.

All he was left with was a tightly fitting pair of wet leggings reaching to midthigh.

“As much as I enjoy seeing you in those wet clothes, why don’t you take them off?” Belatedly, he added, “You must be cold.”

Janney glared back at him. “And how did I get wet and cold?”

Marek smirked as he watched her gaze roam up his body to his face. “Take them off, Janney,” he cajoled softly.

“No,” she muttered stubbornly.

“Janney, Janney,” he chastised. Feigning hurt, he turned to rummage in a chest, pulled out a tunic, and handed it to her.

“Here. You’re cold.”

“Turn around,” she ordered.

He hesitated. He’d seen her naked.

She glared.

Fine. He’d do it her way. As soon as he turned, he heard the latch at the door being lifted. Whirling around, his heart slammed against the wall of this chest. No. Not again. He couldn’t let her leave this time.

“No!” They faced each other. “Janney…” By the Gods, he hated feeling this way. Hated feeling at all. Since his breakdown, he’d tried to push it all out of his mind, and now this damned woman appeared out of nowhere and turned him inside out.

Marek didn’t know where the thought came from, and he hated that it came at all, but in the end, he knew it had to be her decision. “All right, if you really want to go, I won’t stop you.”

He whispered, “Go if you want to.”

She stood at the partially open door staring down at her hand on the latch. Marek lowered his head, watching her from under dark brows. He could almost see her brain churning. He knew the importance of her next decision. To both of them.

Finally, with a little shake of her head, eyes squeezed tightly shut for a moment—he held his breath—Janney clicked the door shut. She turned to look at him for a long moment, until her breathing seemed to even out.

“Tell me everything, Marek. I need to know all of it. I deserve that.”

Then, right in front of him, she stripped off her wet clothing and drew his tunic on over her head covering herself to just below the knees. He wanted to fling her onto his bed, but curled his fingers into his palms and fought the urge. She moved