and she lifted her chin, unwilling to tell him her reason for going to Alexandria. “Is it any concern of yours?” She asked, the words acting as a shield to protect her fragile ego.
She saw his eyes narrow, “Not really. You are right. You are no concern of mine.” Then he stood up and walked away, dismissing her.
At his words Livia sat up, feeling cut to the bone, dismissed like she always had been by the men of her family. Piqued by his blatant disregard for her, she snapped, “Well, if I am no concern of yours, why did you rescue me in the first place? You should have left me to drown, along with all the others.”
Her words had the desired effect, as he stopped mid-stride and turned to face her once again, his eyes hooded as he stared down at her for a long moment. Then he smiled - a wolf’s smile – and the knife Livia hadn’t been aware of him holding, tapped against his thigh.
“A good question. One I’m not sure if I have an answer for,” he shrugged, before his eyes narrowing and he said, “Maybe you aroused my curiosity? Maybe it was greed? The promise of a fat reward if I saved the precious daughter of one of Rome’s finest perhaps? Let’s hope your brother has enough money to pay me. My price is very high as he – and you – will find out.”
Livia gasped as a sharp pain pierced right through her. Is that all she really meant to him? Monetary gain?
Pain, was replaced by anger, and in her iciest tone she said, “And what will you do if he refuses to pay anything for me? Take me back out to sea and drown me? You have made a big mistake if you think my father, and brother, care one jot about me.”
And with those final words, she stood up and walked over to the farthest part of their makeshift camp. She sat down on the hot sand, her knees bent as she stared out to sea, wishing she were anywhere else but here, on a deserted island, with a man who detested everything about her, and her family.
As Metellus watched her walk away, he cursed himself. He had gone too far he realised, but there was no going back. She didn’t know it of course, but he had blatantly lied to her. He hadn’t saved her for any monetary reward. Far from it – he was richer than them by far.
It was common knowledge that the Drusii fortune had been virtually wiped out last year, when Mount Vesuvius had erupted, destroying all their vast areas of farm land in, and around, Pompeii and Herculaneum. Land, which had once been used to grow grapes for wine, and olives for the much coveted olive oil, and which now laid buried beneath tons of solidified lava and mud. The eruption had even destroyed the two small ships they had moored in the port area of Pompeii which were used to convey their goods to Rome. And if there was no money coming into the Drusii coffers it would mean they were at risk of failing to meet the 100,000 denarii threshold that Senators were obliged to have in order to keep their seats in the Senate.
And because Senators were barred from trading in commerce, such as shipping, the Drusii wealth had been their land. And apart from a small farm near the port of Brundisium, Metellus knew that most of their land holdings had been lost when Vesuvius had erupted.
Metellus’s mouth tightened, as he wondered if the eruption had contributed to Livia’s father’s sudden decline in health. It would seem to be the logical answer.
It would also explain why Flavius had been so active in recent months, taking over most of his father’s business affairs. Business affairs that had included borrowing vast sums of money from merchants and the moneylenders of Rome.
It was obvious they had fallen on hard times since the eruption. Metellus also knew Flavius, in an attempt to swell the family’s coffers, had taken to gambling. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t very good at it, and he wondered if Livia knew of this latest development as she sat there in her tattered silk gown? He very much doubted it.
So, to answer the question she had thrown at him. He hadn’t rescued her for a monetary reward. He had in fact rescued her for two reasons.
The first reason was easy enough to answer. Revenge.
Metellus’s jaw tightened as he remembered the exact moment he’d found out who she was, when the captain, two days into the voyage, had told him Livia was the daughter of Senator Augustus Drusus. Metellus had taken that bit of news like a blow to the stomach, so much so he’d had to restrain himself from barging into her cabin and demanding if the captain spoke the truth.
Instead, he had held back his shock and anger, and had thought long and hard about how he could use Livia to exact revenge against her father. Livia’s father, who, through his lies and innuendo’s had spread rumours throughout Rome which had implicated Metellus’s father in a conspiracy to murder Nero. That his father was innocent was immaterial. The damage had been done. The Emperor Nero, already on the verge of madness, had believed outright the information provided by a high ranking Senator. Metellus’s father, a low ranking merchant – albeit a rich one – had no chance of pleading his innocence. Within two days of his arrest, he had been tried, found guilty of treason, and executed.
And now, fifteen years later it was as if the gods had handed him the very tool for his revenge on a golden platter. Here, on an uninhabited island, he had at his mercy the daughter of his sworn enemy.
Metellus’s mouth twisted as he contemplated the second reason for rescuing Livia. In short, he’d rescued her because he wanted her. He had from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her, and the desire for revenge had battled with his desire to possess her body.
Sexual hunger kicked him in the gut with the force of a wild horse. He wanted her with a primitive force which refused to go away. She was pure temptation with her wide hazel eyes, her full mouth that begged to be kissed, and a body made for his enjoyment.
He should feel hatred for her, but instead he felt desire.
Angry with himself for allowing his emotions to rule his head, he cursed under his breath. He needed to be stronger, fight the feelings he felt for Livia, feelings which were threatening to overtake his rational thoughts. He hadn’t come this far to allow it all to filter through his fingers like a handful of sand. Livia Drusus was the daughter of his sworn enemy, and therefore fair game in his planned revenge.
Metellus sighed, his eyes staring out at the expanse of blue sea in front of him. There was just one major flaw in his so called plan for revenge. He had no idea whatsoever how it was going to happen. He just knew it had to…
It was the reason he’d been feeling so unsettled ever since he’d found out who she was. And it had been the excuse he had used to persuade himself to burst into her cabin and on the night of the storm and rescue her.
He hadn’t wanted her to die; he’d wanted her to survive so she could be the conduit in perusing his plans for revenge against her family. But as the storm had raged around them, his plans for revenge had been suspended. Because it had then become a matter of survival – pure and simple. Life or death.
And the gods had decreed they should live. They had been given a second change, and he’d vowed to himself he would leave this island, and return to Rome, and fulfil his desire for revenge against the Drusii. And nothing was going to stop him…
“We are going to have to leave here soon.”
Livia looked away from the tranquil scene in front of her, and turned to where Metellus stood behind her. It had been several hours since she’d last seen him, and she had been sitting on her makeshift bed watching the ebb and flow of the waves as they lapped along the shoreline. Lifting her eyes to meet his, she saw he was watching her with hooded eyes once again, his face giving nothing away.
“Why? Aren’t we safe here?” She kept her voice neutral, not wanting to inflame his, or her anger, again.
Metellus’s mouth thinned, “We are safe yes, but we have virtually