Defy the Eagle (19 page)

For what seemed an eternity, Caddaric searched for something to say and when, at last, he had found a subject he thought might interest Jilana, he carefully planned his sentence. Thus prepared, he turned toward her and, in what he hoped was a casual manner, said, "This bath reminds me of the public bath I visited in Rome." At his first word, Jilana had looked at him and the rest of what he had planned to say was lost in the depths of her violet gaze.

Jilana waited hopefully in the silence that descended once again, as anxious as Caddaric to put an end to the strange tension that seemed to hum between them, but for a different reason. There was safety in conversation. "Does it?" she asked helpfully. "I have never been to Rome."

Caddaric hurriedly pulled his thoughts together, thankful for her question. "There are differences. The hypocaust was working so the caldarium and laconicum were boiling hot, as they are supposed to be. I remember there were senators present, discussing Nero's obsession with his Greeks and his singing while the sweat poured from their bodies." He found it amusing, the memory of those senators gravely discussing Nero and his excesses as if they were holding forth in the Senate, and tried to share the humor with Jilana through a faint smile. She watched him expectantly, finding nothing odd in the senators' behavior. It was the Roman way of things; her father had routinely conducted business in his own caldarium. Caddaric nervously cleared his throat and returned to the subject at hand. "There was a frigidarium, of course, but I had done too much freezing when I was stationed along the Rhine to enjoy it." He stopped abruptly, remembering the bitter Rhine winter, and, following that, the transfer to the desert furnace called Judea. His time in the desert had ended with his brothers' deaths and his own desertion.

"Claudia often spoke of the baths," Jilana said quietly. She sensed his withdrawal, more marked now because of the effort he had made to establish a link between them.

Caddaric roused himself with an effort. "Claudia?"

"My sister." Jilana's lips trembled over the words and she looked quickly away. "Claudia went to Rome, with my mother, when she was thirteen. They had intended only a short stay, but Claudia fell in love with the city and its way of life. When Mother returned, Claudia stayed behind with an aunt. She was gone for three years and when she came back she was changed, different from the sister I remembered." Jilana sighed and trailed a hand through the water. "She ridiculed our bath; compared to the magnificent ones she had visited in Rome and Pompeii, I suppose this did seem inferior." Tears flooded her eyes as she realized the disloyalty of her words. In her sister's defense, Jilana added, "Claudia was not suited for life here. She was too delicate to endure the hardships of a frontier settlement."

Caddaric snorted his disbelief. "I saw her the day the Queen was flogged. She was not too delicate to scream for Boadicea's blood or relish the sight of it when the lash laid her back open." He fingered the scar on his cheek. "No doubt she relished the gladiatorial combats to be found in Rome."

"You know nothing," Jilana hissed. "Nothing!" But what he said was true; Claudia had described the gladiators and their contests with an excitement Jilana had not been able to fathom. That Caddaric dared to criticise Claudia was maddening—that he dared to be correct was intolerable. Tears, so long unshed, spilled over her cheeks.

but Jilana no longer cared. "She was my sister! How dare you—" Her voice broke and Jilana reached out blindly for the side of the pool, intending to run from this barbarian and his hateful truths.

"Jilana, nay."

Strong hands captured her wrists and dragged her through the water to the warm, hard cushion of his chest. Immediately her wrists were released and his arms gathered her close so that her head rested in the hollow of his shoulder. "I hate you!" But the sobs that tore through Jilana's chest drained the venom from her words.

"Aye, I know." Caddaric stroked a gentling hand over her hair.

"She was my sister," Jilana repeated brokenly.

Her sorrow tore at him, opening fresh wounds in his heart. "I know." Caddaric held her fiercely, protectively, waiting out the storm. "I know what it is like to lose a loved one. My two brothers fell in battle while I watched, unable to help them. They were Iceni and they died fighting for the Roman legion that had been sent to quell an uprising in Judea. When it was over I took their bodies and washed and prepared them as best I could. There were no sacred oak groves, no Druids, and though I had money, no legion priest would allow me to purchase a sacrifice which would smooth their way to Annwn." Annwn, the Celtic land of the dead. The name sent a shiver through Jilana and Caddaric wrapped her closer in his arms. "I buried them beneath the sands of the desert—buried them deep, so that the jackals and hyenas could not unearth them and feed upon their flesh." Jilana' s arms went around his neck, her fingernails digging into his shoulders, sharing his pain as he shared hers, returning a measure of the comfort she had received. "My mother and sisters had been killed when Claudius invaded our island; now my brothers were dead. My father was a slave to General Aulus Plautus. My family was no more."

Jilana's breath caught at the hollowness of his voice. "How you must hate Rome and me." She sought to move out of his arms, but Caddaric held her still.

"I bear no love for Rome, but you, little wicca..." Caddaric brought one hand to her chin and tilted her face toward his. "Nay, I do not hate you." Slowly, Caddaric lowered his head and brushed his lips across Jilana's.

Jilana stared at him, aware of the frisson of pleasure that curled through her at the touch of his mouth. There was tenderness in his touch, a gentleness which belied the dispassionate shell which was his armor. And there was pain—a pain Jilana recognized because it matched her own—and, incredibly, she wanted nothing more than to take away all the pain inflicted upon Caddaric by her countrymen and give him in its place... peace. The same peace Caddaric had offered this afternoon in her bedchamber. Was this what he had been feeling when he had taken her in his arms? Had he wanted, beyond all else, to give her comfort? Between them lay something of immense power; it shimmered in the depths of Caddaric's blue eyes, challenging her, daring her to reach out and risk being consumed in its depths. The unknown might consume, them both, for Caddaric, too, seemed oddly reluctant to grasp what the moment afforded; yet Jilana knew, through some age-old wisdom in her heart, that this strange power also held the balm for their wounds. And much, much more.

Without conscious thought, Jilana's hands slid from Caddaric's neck to the damp curls on his head. Slowly, half-afraid, half-intrigued, her fingers tunneled into his hair and brought his head downward. His breath fell . across her lips and Jilana closed her eyes. Their mouths met, gently, and the exquisite sensations produced by the joining elicited a soft sound of pleasure from her throat.

His mouth flowed over hers, softening the flesh, heating it; Caddaric's arms tightened, bringing Jilana's breasts teasingly against the dark mat of hair covering his chest. Her hands fell to his shoulders as Caddaric's tongue traced the outline of her lips and then explored their fullness. She wanted to move closer, to be absorbed by the strength and heat of his body, but Caddaric kept her at that same, teasing distance while his tongue seduced its way into her mouth. Caddaric deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking hers for a controlled, sensual meeting that made Jilana sink her nails into his shoulders.

The kiss grew in power, causing a riot of sensation within Jilana. Her breasts tingled and deep within her core an ache flared to life. At the small, unexpected pain she caught her breath, and as she did so her tongue withdrew and grazed the length of Caddaric's. This time 'twas Caddaric who gasped, and Jilana felt the powerful muscles beneath her fingers contract one by one until he seemed carved from sun-warmed marble. The pressure against her lips eased, as did the heady persuasion of his tongue, but the rhythmic throbbing of her blood left Jilana giddy. Caddaric's arms around her back and beneath her knees held her securely, but Jilana felt strangely weightless. Confused, she opened her eyes and looked at Caddaric. The blue of his eyes was dark, almost hidden by his half-closed lids, but pinpoints of light glittered in their depths. The arm at her back tightened, lifted, and Jilana knew the sensual abrasion of his chest hair against the side of her breast.

It dawned on her then that they were no longer in the pool. Her weightlessness had been caused by Caddaric carrying her through the water and up to the steps. Now there was no longer even the pretense of a bath with which to assuage her conscience's demand for modesty. Reality descended with the wrath of an avenging god and tripped Jilana's heartbeat. This is wrong, she tried to tell herself.

"Nay, Jilana." Caddaric sensed her retreat and spoke quietly, but the words vibrated through his chest and into hers. He brushed his mouth over Jilana's and a flame instantly surged through them both. If she refused him now... "'Tis meant for us, wicca. Fight me if you must; I will understand and do my best not to hurt you."

Jilana swallowed, aware of the drumming of her pulse. 'You will rape me?"

A smile, sadly amused, touched his mouth and was gone. "Nay, Jilana, I will not rape you. I will not have to. Your pride, your strength, will exhaust themselves and then I will have only to kiss you, caress you, and you will be mine."

What Caddaric said was true and his blunt words, while not kind, were more welcome to Jilana than sugar-coated lies. He could easily have lied and perhaps she would have believed him in order to pacify the rigid Roman morality with which she had been raised. But his honesty touched her and took away the guilt and shame. Her life was different now, she was different. She must make her own rules for her new life, even as she sensed Caddaric had made his. He was a hard man, but an honest one. She could trust him. Reaching out, she traced his mouth with a forefinger. "I will not fight you," Jilana said in a soft but steady voice. His fingers dug painfully into her rib-cage and she gasped. "You promised not to hurt me, Caddaric." Immediately the pressure eased and she smiled gratefully.

"I will try to take more care with you," Caddaric murmured as he bent his head toward her once again. He carried Jilana further around the pool until they reached the discarded towels and then removed the arm supporting her knees. Her arm slid around his neck and when her legs brushed against his, Caddaric tightened the arm around her back while his free hand smoothed over her buttock and cupped into the resilient flesh. Jilana was suspended several inches above the floor, her breasts and abdomen molded enchantingly against the iron planes of his body. A shudder ran through Caddaric and he reluctantly lowered her to the floor. She swayed for a moment and when Caddaric reached out to steady her, he was nearly undone by the silken feel of her beneath his callused hands.


"Jilana." She looked at him squarely then, those incredible purple eyes wide and unfocused with passion, and seemed to regain her balance. Trembling himself, Caddaric knelt and made short work of spreading the towels


on the floor as a pallet.

Ah, gods, Caddaric chastised himself, to take Jilana upon a hard marble floor. He should stop, take her back to the bedchamber and lay her upon the soft bed— Caddaric's thoughts came to a jumbling halt as he felt Jilana settle next to him upon the towels and place a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and found her watching him, her expression trusting. Swallowing, Caddaric turned Jilana so that her back was to him and began removing the pins from her hair and setting them aside. The braid slipped from its coronet and he slowly untwisted the neat coils. Jilana's hair was a luxury in itself; like silk it flowed through his fingers, caressed his thighs, and fell in a fiery river down her back. Caddaric moved closer and massaged her shoulders. He would have to be careful, some rational part of his mind warned; he could so easily hurt her with his greater strength. He ran his hands down her arms. Jilana shivered and he instantly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back to his chest. "Are you cold?"

"Nay." Jilana's voice emerged as a throaty whisper. It was the truth; Caddaric's touch sent out tongues of fire that stole her strength and gave it back again. Jilana twisted in Caddaric's embrace until they were face-to-face. A few strands of her hair caught in the dark mat covering Caddaric's chest and a wildness grew in Jilana's soul at the sight.

Caddaric followed her gaze and his breath nearly stopped at the erotic picture. While he watched, Jilana slowly raised a hand and began to dissolve the web between them. Deliberately, Caddaric grasped her hand and pressed it onto his chest, directly over his heart. She remained motionless for what seemed an eternity and then her fingers moved, threading their way through the fine hair, exploring its texture. With a groan Caddaric pulled her closer and claimed her mouth. This time her mouth flowered eagerly, welcoming his invasion. He sampled her leisurely, investigating the warm cavern with slow, languid strokes that drew a soft purr from her throat and quick, short stabs that invited Jilana to examine him in the same way. She was hesitant, her tongue retreating just as it met his lips. Impatience flared in Caddaric and he was tempted to frame her head in his hands and hold her immobile while he plundered her mouth. And then he remembered that she was a virgin, that the play between a man and a- woman was foreign to her and that he had never imagined he would be the one to initiate her into this intimacy. Caddaric had never lain with a virgin and he realized, with a tremor of apprehension, that the presence of her innocence changed everything for him as well.