In an instant, she had risen and fastened her mouth on his. He could taste the sweetness of honey and cloves, and her perfume washed over him like a drug. Her fingers pulled at the fastenings on his armor and he had to help her. His chestplate fell away with a clang of metal that made them both jump. Her hands were cool where they touched his skin and then he was naked. Her hands reached to his hips and pulled him gently toward her mouth. He cried out at the warmth, shuddering as he closed his eyes.

His hands strayed down to her breasts and he pulled away from her, climbing onto the bed and letting the gauze fall back behind him.

“Is this my reward?” he said, his voice hoarse.

She smiled slowly, her hands roaming him, touching old scars. Holding his gaze, she turned lithely onto her stomach, raising herself and reaching behind to hold his hot flesh in her hands as he rose over her.

“It is just the beginning,” she said.

Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

With dawn yet to break, Julius strode through the lower corridors, nodding to the guards as they stood to attention. The king of Egypt was locked in a room that had once held jars of oil. It had no windows to tempt a rescue and the door was solid.

“Has he been quiet?” Julius asked.

Before his legionary could reply, a high voice yelled a stream of oaths and curses inside, barely muffled by the heavy wood.

“He’s been doing that for hours, sir,” the soldier said.

“Open the door,” Julius replied, pursing his lips. “I’ll speak to him.”

As he entered he saw that Brutus had stripped this room as bare as any of the others. No bed had been provided and a small bench and bucket were the only furniture. A single lamp burned steadily on the wall and in its glow Julius could see white smears of dust on the boy’s skin. The king of Egypt had clearly spent the night on the cold floor.

Ptolemy stood with stiff dignity, facing his captor with his arms folded over his narrow chest. Julius could see the outline of his ribs and the dust had smeared on his cheeks as if he had tried to hide his crying.

“Good morning,” Julius said, seating himself on the bench. “I will have some clothes found for you when the men bring breakfast. There is no need for you to be uncomfortable while you are here.”

Ptolemy glared at him without speaking. He was smaller than Julius had realized the night before and his face was pale and delicate, as if it had never seen the sun. His features lent themselves easily to expressions of sullen anger. The dark eyes and long lashes were twinned in Cleopatra and Julius repressed a shudder of dislike at the thought of their relationship.