Nox Dormienda A Long Night for Sleeping by Kelli Stanley

Nox Dormienda A Long Night for Sleeping by Kelli Stanley

Author:Kelli Stanley
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9781410409706
Publisher: AmazonEncore
Published: 2011-07-02T07:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I walked along the quays and the docks on the way home, past the palaces, large and small, brooding over the river—their inhabitants and visitors still scurrying like ants, though the sun had withdrawn its favors and darkness was around the corner. I didn’t think, didn’t talk, didn’t whistle, just walked. No one followed me. I followed myself.

When I opened the door, Draco and Brutius greeted me.

“How’s Bilicho?”

“He’s very well, Master, Coir’s been with him all day.” Draco answered promptly. Brutius cleared his throat.

“What is it? What happened?”

“Nothing to do with Dominus Bilicho. He’s been awake for hours. There’s someone else to see you.”

I started walking toward the triclinium. “Where?”

“No, Master, not there.” This time it was Brutius. “Your examination room.”

I didn’t need to ask who. Avitus, again, I was sure of it. He must’ve wanted to see me personally, and to keep it quiet, which is why Brutius and Draco were so nervous and why they put him in here. I walked fast, fully prepared to face the beneficarius, and found myself facing Gwyna.

The switch didn’t bother me much. She was dressed somewhere in between her campaign uniform and the plain tunic I’d kissed her in. She turned with a genuine-looking smile of relief, and came toward me, her hands outstretched.

She grabbed my arms and got closer. “Thank God you’re all right. I came as soon as I could.”

I stared down at her, and disengaged myself. “You run as hot and cold as a thermae. Last time I saw you was yesterday. You shoved me out the door, remember? What’s wrong, Gwyna? You need something?”

The blue didn’t snap this time. She held up her head, and returned my stare, some pain making fine lines around her eyes.

“I deserve that. I’m sorry.”

I chewed my cheek a little. After we both shuffled our feet and smoothed our hair, I motioned for her to sit in one of the two chairs I pulled up near the brazier. I sat in the other. I looked at her until her face turned red.

“Don’t stare at me.”

“Why not? I’ve come close to doing a hell of a lot more.”

She jumped up angry and headed for the door. Then she stopped and turned around, slowly, deliberately, walked to the chair where I was still sitting, and slapped me across the face. Twice. She was strong for her size. Then, still slowly, still deliberately, she lowered herself back in the chair, her eyes black-hot and her lips curved into a challenge.

I rubbed my cheek, and chewed it some more. Then I leaned over, grabbed her arms, picked her up and pulled her into my lap, the chair squeaking beneath the two of us. She fought me with her mouth, pulling my hair and scratching my back and the match was about even. She might even have been winning a little.

I broke it off, finally, needing to breathe. Her breath was warm and on my neck and her hand stroked my face.

“You need a shave.”

“Did you come all the way out here to tell me that?”

She pushed herself up from my chest to look at me.



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