The Gladiator. Carla Capshaw

of gratitude from her heart. “I…why?”

      “I mean to have you for myself.”

      She eased away from his hold, instantly missing the warmth of his touch. “The slave trader robbed you. He sold you a woman who wasn’t for sale.”

      “My receipt and your presence in my home say otherwise.”

      “You confuse me. I’m certain you’d find a more willing female if you applied yourself to the task of looking for one.”

      His lips twitched. “I want only you.”

      Lucia’s cold warning rang in her ears. “Because I’m a challenge? Or because I’m an innocent?”

      The crisp air hummed with tension between them. “Neither and both. Truthfully…because there’s a peace I feel in your presence that I’ve felt with no one else.”

      Mystified, Pelonia studied his angular features. His sincerity touched a chord deep inside her, but she found it impossible to trust him. She stood, eager to find the calm that eluded her in his presence. “After these last weeks, Caros, if you sense any peace left in me it’s Christ and Him alone.”

      “Nonsense. I’m drawn to you, Pelonia, no other. From the first moment I saw you I wanted you for my own.” His long fingers locked around her wrist, preventing her flight. “I won’t relent until I’ve made you mine.”

      The quiet declaration confirmed Lucia’s warning. She shook off his hold and rushed from the garden, his command to return chasing her down the path toward the house. Once in her room upstairs, she shut the door and flung herself on her pallet. Her whole body trembled from the shock of his admission. Her thoughts whirled as she tried to sort out the revelations in the garden. One moment she and Caros had been conversing, the next…

      Her skin crawled when she thought of how close she’d come to waking in a brothel. Her father had shielded her, but she wasn’t unaware of the harsh realities a female faced on her own. Shorn of a man’s protection, most women fell into prostitution, or like her, were sold into slavery.

      Neither was an acceptable choice, but for the moment slavery seemed the lesser of both evils. Had she been sold to a brothel, she would still be a slave, shamed with no hope of returning to her family. As it was, at least she had her virtue and the dream of freedom.

      She curled into a ball. Her mind raced. Caros planned to make her his paramour. What had she done to draw his attention? He couldn’t possibly be drawn to her disheveled and filthy appearance. She’d fought him at every turn. Surely he wasn’t attracted to her less-than-servile nature?

      Clasping her knees, she lowered her head. “Lord, where are You?” Straining to hear even the faintest whisper of guidance, she almost wept when she met with more silence. She’d already lost her father and freedom, would God allow her virtue to be stolen as well?

      Lucia’s offer rang in her ears. Any hesitation she’d harbored about the timing of her escape vanished. She’d been given the opportunity to flee and she must seek out Tiberia. If Caros sought to claim her, she had no ability or legal right to stop him. Every moment she lingered in his domain brought her closer to ruin.

      She had no choice. She must leave tonight.