Conquered And Seduced

‘…a highly sensuous tale of courage and enduring love set in the splendour of ancient Rome. Lyn Randal’s WARRIOR OR WIFE is an absolute must-read for those who love gladiators!’

—Award-winning author Lyn Stone

‘A stunning debut…

From the bloodlust of the gladiatorial arena to the silken sheets of a Roman senator’s couch, Lyn Randal’s story weaves a powerful and ancient magic.’

—RITA® Award winner and bestselling author Gayle Wilson

‘Randal’s Rome is an exciting, colourful place, where politics merge with the bloodlust of the arena and a proud Roman senator defies all for the love of a gladiatrix.’

—RT Book Reviews

Lucan smiled, and it reached all the way to his beautiful fiery eyes. ‘Let’s get married.’

‘You can’t be serious.’

‘I’m completely serious. You need to save the inn. I need a wife.’

‘But we’ve already…Lucan, we’ve been through this before.’

‘No. It’s not the same offer as before.’

Severina eyed him suspiciously. ‘It’s not?’

‘No. I’m not offering a true marriage. This would be in name only. A business relationship between you and me to solve both our problems.’

‘A business relationship? No…?’

‘Business only, Severina. Without obligation to fulfil those embarrassingly intimate conjugal duties.’

Severina drew in a long breath.

‘Unless you want to…’

Conquered And Seduced

Lyn Randal

www.millsandboon.co.uk

LYN RANDAL grew up on a farm in rural Mississippi, where long, hot summers away from school and friends meant entertaining herself with books and her own imagination. Now, years later, she lives on a farm in rural Alabama, where long, hot summers mean entertaining herself with—you guessed it!—more books and an even bigger imagination. She considers herself rather fortunate that her husband, two children, two cats and one dog have all become quite accustomed to her strange writing habits, hardly noticing that she mutters odd lines of dialogue while doing household chores, or disappears to take over the computer for hours on end, sometimes even managing to avoid huge mountains of laundry in the process.

Lyn especially enjoys the research that goes into writing historical novels, and she loves hearing from her readers. Contact her by visiting her website: www.lynrandal.com

Novels by Lyn Randal:

WARRIOR OR WIFE

TEMPTED BY INNOCENCE

This book is dedicated to the readers who wrote and asked for Lucan and Severina’s story—

I hope it exceeds all your hopes.

Chapter One

It was a fine day for a fight.

Cassia Severina’s brow furrowed as her fist tightened around the hem of a skilfully woven stola.

A fine day for a fight, indeed, with its hint of spring and warm breezes that had drawn a crowd to this busy marketplace, and if the fierce-looking matron who held the other corner of the garment thought to intimidate her, then she, Cassia Severina, who’d faced far more formidable opponents in the Amphitheatre, who’d once killed two lionesses and a bear, who—

The sow-faced matron growled, ‘Let go. It’s mine. I saw it first.’

‘No. I was first to lay hands on it. You were still halfway across the market when I took it up.’

The woman whose wares were flung across the table stepped forwards. ‘It’ll belong to whoever pays me the coin for it first. Rip it, and you’ll lay out the full price!’

‘Let go,’ threatened the sow.

‘I will not,’ Severina said, equally adamant. ‘I mean to have it. It’s to be a wedding garment.’

Ariadne stepped forwards in a graceful motion and placed a gentle hand on Severina’s fist. ‘It’s all right, mistress,’ she murmured. ‘There are other lovely gowns here. Any will suit.’

Severina hesitated. ‘I want this one for you, Ariadne. The material is fine and the embroidery’s exquisite. Besides, it’s the only one with the extra length you need.’

Ariadne smiled and Severina was, as always, startled by the perfection of her slave girl’s appearance. Ariadne was truly a beauty. And for her coming union with the man she loved, Ariadne deserved the loveliest stola in all of Rome.

‘Leave the gown,’ Ariadne murmured again, her slim fingers pulling at Severina’s to loosen her grip. ‘I’ll be happy with any other, or even with those I already own.’ Her eyes met those of her mistress, her expression soft and happy. ‘Am I not soon to be wife to Orthrus? And is he not the most extraordinary of men?’

She lowered her voice. ‘As much as I appreciate your kindness to me, mistress, I can’t help but fear for that poor matron. She has no idea of your skill at combat or how easily she’d be overcome. It wouldn’t be fair.’

The sow didn’t quite hear the whispered exchange, but her eyes narrowed in approval when Severina reluctantly released the garment.

‘Glad you’ve seen some sense, girl,’ the heavy woman said with a smirk. ‘I did see it first.’

Severina stared at her adversary, feeling the hot blood surge as it had done in the past when she’d stood, a fearless gladiatrix, before the crowds cheering in the Flavian Amphitheatre. Almost she could feel the hilt of a gladius against her palm. Almost she wished for the sharp, metallic clang of blade against blade.

Too bad those days were behind her.

Severina had little doubt that if the arrogant woman facing her across the swath of fabric could see her arrayed in battle gear, poised for combat, she’d not be so smug.

Severina spun around and moved away before she could act on her baser urges. She was, she reminded herself, no longer fighting in the Amphitheatre.

She owned her own business now. Her image was that of a cultured gentlewoman. She must consider her inn and the affluent clients who chose it for its quiet refinement.

It would hardly do for her to welcome them at the door nursing a black eye and bruised lip.

‘Well done,’ Ariadne said when they’d moved out of earshot. ‘Your restraint shows what a well-bred lady you truly are.’

‘Hardly. For long moments there, I wished heartily for a weapon in my hand.’

The younger woman laughed. ‘Well, forget about it. Just look around, stretching before us—table after table of exotic things! Wares from Germania and Egypt and Britannia and Gaul…’ Ariadne made a happy sound. ‘Doesn’t it fill you with wonder?’

In truth, it did. Every time Severina entered the three massive stone arches that marked the entrance to the marketplace, the wonder seized her.

‘Some day I’ll come here and buy whatever I want,’ Ariadne said wistfully. ‘Maybe I’ll even buy your wedding garment, mistress.’

Severina’s laughter was a little too bright. ‘You’ll probably earn your freedom long before I’ll need one of those.’

‘Then it really is over between you and Master Lucan?’

‘It is.’

Ariadne sighed. ‘That’s too bad. He’s a fine-looking man, and a kind one. I thought he loved you very much. When he bought Orthrus and Juvenal and me to serve you, he told us you were a special woman. And his eyes shone with such feeling, I knew he was in love with you.’

Severina looked away. If she thought too deeply about Lucan, her eyes might fill with tears. She’d been the one to end their relationship, but that didn’t mean she didn’t sometimes regret the loss. No wonder Ariadne didn’t understand; sometimes she didn’t, either.

She hadn’t been prepared for a man like Lucan. As handsome as a god with golden skin, sun-streaked tawny hair and curiously slanted green-gold eyes, Lucan could walk past women and make them sigh. He’d certainly snatched her own breath away the moment she’d first seen him, swinging with sensual grace out of the door of the granary on Donatus’s farm. His lean, muscular body had whispered promises that made her pulse beat faster. Those beautiful, perfectly shaped lips curved into a smile that showed white teeth and deepened the dimple in his left cheek. And his eyes had lit with hot, male interest.

She’d been captivated.

Normally wary of men, she’d been drawn to him. And Lucan had closed in, an experienced male hunter with the unerring ability to sense a woman’s longing.

But he’d been gentle with her, and that was her undoing. Their time had been a dream of sweetness and yearning. With tenderness he had edged past her fears. With patience he had slipped through her defences. She loved him before she knew.

The dream ended when he had asked her to marry him. But sometimes, like now, the loss of him still hurt.

Ariadne didn’t notice Severina’s distress. ‘It’s too bad you couldn’t work things out with Master Lucan,’ the slave said. ‘I’d give anything if you could find the same happiness I’ve found with Orthrus.’

A commotion captured their attention before Severina could reply. Juvenal was hurrying their way, red-faced, heedless of the annoyance he caused as shoppers were jostled and pushed aside before him. ‘Mistress!’ he called when he saw her. ‘Hold up!’

He breathed hard by the time he reached her.

‘Orthrus says you must come home right now,’ he gasped, already pulling her towards the grand arches at the entrance. ‘Come, mistress. Come now.’

‘Why? What’s wrong?’

‘I don’t know, but Orthrus said to hurry.’

Severina felt Ariadne’s anxious glance.

‘All right,’ Severina said. ‘Lead the way.’

The censor Marcus Terentius sipped fruited wine and smiled at Severina. ‘Nice,’ he said, nodding. ‘Good wine. Glassware from…hmmm…Alexandria, I believe.’ He traced a finger over the rim. ‘You have excellent taste, for a woman.’

Severina’s eyes narrowed.

He glanced around the room. ‘Not just in wine, either. The furnishings here are equally tasteful. Silk pillows from the East. Fur blankets from…Britannia, maybe? Cedar from Lebanon. All luxurious, beautiful…and expensive.’ He eyed her with grudging respect. ‘You chose these things yourself?’

Severina had indeed shopped carefully to get the finest items for the least cost, but she wasn’t impressed now with the man’s flattery. He was here for something and her instincts screamed that she be wary.

‘I made the purchases,’ she said. ‘Livius Lucan owns the inn, of course, but he allows me great liberty in the daily operation of it. I buy the furnishings. He pays for them.’

The censor’s wheeze of laughter seemed out of place. ‘Of course. And why not, when you have such a fine eye?’

There seemed more than a hint of sarcasm in the words. Severina searched his thin face. ‘I do my best.’

‘Your best hasn’t been sufficient, however. Not in every respect.’ The censor took a long, slow sip of his drink, taking obvious delight in drawing out the tension while she puzzled over his words.

He finally met her gaze. ‘A person doing business in Rome should be aware of the laws pertinent to that business, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Of course.’

‘Then you’re aware that no young, unmarried woman such as yourself is allowed to possess property of her own. Despite your claims that you’re not the owner of this establishment, there are others, quite a few others, who say differently. And it’s odd, you know, that I can’t find any paperwork to substantiate Livius Lucan’s ownership.’

Severina fought to remain calm. ‘Then you must look again. The information was quite properly submitted. Emperor Trajan gave the property to Senator Flavius Donatus in return for his loyal service in the Dacian war. And he—’

‘Oh, I know that much. Those who requested the investigation into your ownership of this property didn’t deny any of that.’

Somebody had requested an investigation of her? Who ?

She lifted her chin. ‘Then you should also know that Flavius Donatus sold it Livius Lucan. They served together in Dacia and are close friends.’

‘This information is not what I was told. I was told you received the property from Flavius Donatus. That you’re his wife’s bosom friend and the senator gifted you with this property at his wife’s request.’

Severina didn’t answer.

‘If Livius Lucan is indeed the owner, there’s no record of it,’ the censor went on. ‘Further, all witnesses questioned so far have been amazingly consistent. They all say you’re the owner and that Livius Lucan is nowhere to be seen.’

Lucan was nowhere to be seen because it hurt too much.

‘Perhaps you should look through the records again,’ she said cooly.

‘My search was quite thorough.’

Severina didn’t answer.

The censor set down his wine glass with a slight thump. ‘I’ll find out the truth, Cassia Severina. If you’re breaking the law, I will see this property wrested from you. You’ll be prosecuted to the fullest extent possible.’

‘Life as a bureaucrat must have little entertainment, if this is all you do with your time.’

‘It’s a matter of principle.’ His eyes narrowed sharply. ‘I’m a proud Roman and good at my job. I uphold the laws and put the interests of her citizens first.’

Her male citizens, Severina thought.

‘It angers me that women like you flout our laws. Their profits rightfully belong to fathers and husbands, to men of skill and intelligence.’

Those who don’t spend it on drink and prostitutes.

‘Women with money are too independent. They don’t need marriage. They don’t want husbands and children. They scorn the virtues that lend a woman worth.’

Severina put a hand to her lips to hold in the hot words. She was only too familiar with the ideal of womanhood that most Roman men cherished, someone fertile and docile. A meek child bride who allowed herself to be used hard in the marriage bed and birthed a child every year. One who admired her husband’s accomplishments, but had few of her own.

‘You’re being very quiet,’ the censor said with a smug expression. ‘You’ve nothing to say in your defence?’

‘Only what I said before. Livius Lucan owns this inn.’

‘Then I hope, for your sake, that he’ll be able to substantiate that claim. For if he cannot, I will make an example out of you.’

‘Is that a threat?’

‘It’s a promise.’ The censor’s lips twisted cruelly. ‘There’ll be a hearing, of course, and witnesses will testify. If you’re telling the truth, you’ve nothing to fear. But if you’ve lied, I will take you down.’

He glanced around the room. ‘This really is a lovely place, you know. If you lose it, it won’t be hard to find a man interested in it.’

Severina sucked in a hard breath. So that was the game? He’d confiscate her inn and sell it for his own gain?

‘You’re despicable.’

The man’s laughter was not pleasant. ‘You’ve no idea.’

It was a nightmare. Surely. Just a bad dream.

But it wasn’t. The censor still stood before her, looking around the room as if he owned it already.

‘The hearing’s in three weeks,’ he said, handing her a parchment bearing the details and a large, official-looking seal. ‘Do be on time. I’m a busy man. I don’t like to be kept waiting.’

Of course you wouldn’t, you greasy fat cat, Severina thought as she watched him leave. You want to crush as many poor, struggling women as you can before the day’s done.

She stood for a moment in rank confusion, unsure of her next move. Was this a simple misunderstanding or was there something—someone—far more insidious involved? Severina chewed her lip and considered. Had her past caught up with her? Was it time to leave Rome and move on?

Five years. She’d run for five years, but her old enemy hadn’t caught her yet. She’d begun to feel safe, to build a new life, to imagine a settled existence.

True, she’d had a few twinges of doubt when Donatus had given her the inn. To work in the public made her uneasy, but she’d needed the income and owning a business of her own had been the fulfilment of her dreams.

The chances of being discovered had seemed small. She’d changed drastically from the thin, pale-faced girl she’d been when she’d left her past behind at age fifteen, and Rome was a vast city with a population of millions. But had her luck now played out? She couldn’t be sure.

Severina pivoted sharply, calling for Ariadne. ‘My palla,’ she said in response to the younger woman’s anxious question. ‘And please find Orthrus to accompany me. I must go to Lucan.’

Chapter Two

‘I should warn you,’ Orthrus said, slanting his dark gaze towards Severina as they neared Lucan’s apartment. ‘Master Lucan’s changed. He’s not the same as before.’

Severina heard the slight censure in her slave’s voice, but ignored it. Her slaves remained on good terms with Lucan, and Orthrus visited him often.

‘How is he different?’

‘You know how much his faith meant to him? How he’d become a leader among the Christians here in Rome? He’s turned away from that now. He doesn’t attend their meetings. He doesn’t talk about their God. I don’t think he even prays.’

Severina halted in the street. ‘Lucan’s no longer a Christian? But he was…’

‘So faithful? Yes. But in losing you, he lost that, too.’

This news shook Severina. Lucan’s faith had mattered to him. It had been the bedrock of his life even before they’d met. It had once rescued him from a dissolute life, leading him away from strong drink and women, leading him towards peace and purpose.

Lucan’s Christian faith had mattered to her, too. Because of it, he’d cared for her differently from all the women of his past, building their love on a foundation of trust rather than desire.

But Lucan no longer believed? How could that be?

‘You’re blaming me, Orthrus?’

‘No, mistress,’ he said. ‘I’m saying only that a lot of things changed for him after you left.’

Orthrus did blame her. She could see it in his eyes. Or perhaps her imagination played tricks, making her feel guilty—again.

She pushed the feeling aside. She didn’t have time to consider all her reasons for ending the relationship with Lucan.

It hadn’t been her fault that love had caught her by surprise. She’d never meant to lose herself to those fierce, sweet emotions. She shouldn’t have ignored the risks, but she’d foolishly wanted to be happy for just a little while.

And Lucan had made her happy. As sunny in personality as in appearance, he found humour everywhere and made her laugh. He cherished her, listened to her, valued her opinions and forced her to question her distrust of strong men, teaching her by his example that true strength in a man was sometimes very gentle.

But he’d wanted to marry her. He loved her. He was serious about it. He’d never offered marriage to any other woman.

He meant to hold her for ever, and Severina had been forced to face reality. Anxiety choked her happiness. All her memories, all her old fears found life again.

She’d fought hard for her independence, but a husband would own her. In the eyes of society and the law, Lucan could demand her complete obedience, and that thought filled her with unreasonable panic.

There were other reasons, too. Reasons that clawed at her from the past, reminding her that she must be careful of men and especially those who valued religion too much. Even something as valuable as faith could be a weapon in the wrong hands.

‘Master Lucan hasn’t completely returned to his old ways,’ Orthrus said. ‘He’s been seeing women socially, but I don’t think he’s been intimate with any of them. Maybe he’d like to, but…’ Orthrus glanced at his mistress ‘…his heart’s not ready and so it hasn’t worked out.’

‘Orthrus, please…’ Severina began walking again, as if to lead Orthrus away from the topic. To think of Lucan still hurt. To think of him with other women hurt more.

‘He hasn’t been drinking much, though,’ Orthrus said, quickly falling into pace beside her. ‘He got drunk only once, the same night you…but that was understandable.’

‘Let’s not discuss this.’

Orthrus ignored her. ‘Instead, he’s working all the time. Like a madman. He sleeps little, doesn’t eat well…he’s driving himself into the ground.’

Severina looked away. ‘Which apartment?’ she asked, indicating the long row before them with a slight jerk of her head.

During her time with Lucan, he’d lived with their mutual friends Donatus and Lelia, but he’d moved out after Severina ended the relationship. She’d been relieved at the time, unwilling to see him. And now…?

‘This way,’ Orthrus said. ‘Follow me.’

Nobody answered their repeated knocking at Lucan’s door. Orthrus swore softly. They’d walked a long distance, but Lucan wasn’t home.

‘It’s all right,’ Severina said. ‘We’ll come back tomorrow.’

‘Wait. Maybe I know where to find him. He’s bought a run-down property nearby. He’s probably there, directing the labourers who are restoring it.’

Severina’s eyebrows rose. ‘Lucan’s doing that?’

Orthrus smiled. ‘He’s shown a talent for it. Come, I’ll show you.’

He led Severina back the way they’d come, steering her left and through a maze of streets until they approached a dwelling that had once been a ramshackle building, its yard overgrown with weeds and covered with debris. Severina now gaped at the change in the property. In place of the ugly old building stood an attractive new one. The cluttered and weed-strewn lot had been replaced by a paved courtyard, complete with a fountain and lush plantings. Even now workmen were setting out trees and shrubs, sweating in the growing heat.

Her gaze immediately found the one labourer whose muscular back she recognised, and whose familiar lean hips and legs worked powerfully as he and another man struggled to lower a tree into a hole in the ground.

Lucan.

‘More to the left,’ she heard him say. ‘Centre it, Maro. That’s it. Now set it down. We’ll let Catulus cover the root ball. He’s got the shovel.’

Severina watched in abject fascination as Lucan straightened and grinned happily at Maro, his smile dazzling. And then, as if he sensed her presence like she’d sensed his, his eyes found her.

Their gazes locked.

For a moment, neither could move or speak. The entire universe narrowed to the short distance between them.

Lucan was the first to break the gaze. ‘Excuse me,’ he said to Maro, gesturing towards Orthrus and Severina. ‘It looks like I’m being summoned away. Buteo will help you.’

The other man nodded. Lucan turned, hesitating almost imperceptibly before he came towards her.

Like one in a dream, she noticed that he wiped dirt from his large hands against his coarse tunic, that there was a faint rasp of his callused skin as he shook hands with Orthrus.

She marvelled that Lucan showed respect to the slave, but it was like him to do that. Just as he was one of the few Romans who’d be out here sweating alongside his hired labourers.

‘Severina,’ he said.

The one word, softly spoken, almost a sigh.

He clasped her shoulders in both hands before giving her the customary greeting of friendship, a light, quick kiss to first one cheek and then the other. ‘Why have you come?’

She had trouble finding words with his heat so close, with his hand still firm on her shoulder, searing her skin even through the cloth of her palla. She was devastated by his nearness, by the masculine scent that enveloped her, by the startling golden light in his eyes and the shimmer of sunlight in the blond streaks of his shoulder-length, honeycoloured hair.