Centurion's Honor (Imperial Desires, Book One) by Nadia Aidan Page B

does not. He knows only that you reject him because of who he is and that rejection has hurt him, it has made him bitter.”
    She regarded Cassius as she spoke. “It has, and sometimes I do wonder if I am undue in my own anger and bitterness toward him,” she began quietly. “I wonder if I lash out at him because I could not hurt his father. I wonder if out of some perversion I punish him for the pain Maximinius caused me. And that now that I need him he cannot fathom helping me given how badly I have treated him.”
    “Have you really treated him that badly?” Cassius asked.
    She thought hard on his question. “My actions were never cruel. Yet I was distant, cold even. Of course, he is not my relation, nor was he raised in his father’s home, but his mother’s. I knew of him, but I barely saw him. So for all his time, I ignored him mostly, because I simply wanted to pretend as if he did not exist. But now that he is regent, I cannot ignore him, and he seems to now relish the power he has over me.”
    “That is because he is a spurned man, one who is clinging to a grudge,” Cassius said. “And a spurned man is a dangerous foe, Anan.”
    “Do you think it is him who is behind these strange things happening on my land? Quintus has never been given to violence. I would not expect such a thing from him.”
    He shrugged. “I would not put it past him. He stands everything to gain if you lose your holdings.”
    Anan sighed at that. What Cassius said was true—without her wealth, she would have no influence within the province. Quintus’ power would be virtually unrivaled and unchecked. Anan worried then, without someone to balance Quintus’ power, what would that mean for her people, her homeland?
    Titus must have glimpsed her inner turmoil from the expression on her face because he came to stand before her, his hand gentle as it cupped her cheek, forcing her to meet his concerned gaze.
    “All will be well,” Titus said, his thumb absently stroking her chin. “Cassius and I will see to it.”
    She wanted to believe him, the strength of his words, but never had she depended on others, least of all those whom she considered her enemy. And when her gaze flickered over to Cassius and she caught sight of his frown, she became certain that putting her faith in these two centurions would be foolish. Titus may have offered her his support, but it was obvious Cassius was there not out of choice but out of duty, and he was not as eager as his comrade to extend himself.
    Anan started to pull away, but Titus held firm, forcing the full weight of her gaze to his face, where she glimpsed tiny embers of desire flaring to life.
    She shook her head but Titus halted her with his words. “You can depend on us, Anan, if you would but only trust us.”
    She glanced between the two men, a knot of uncertainty tightening in her belly. They had crossed some invisible threshold after what had happened in the stables and she knew now that there was no turning back. Even Cassius had spoken of taking her to his bed, and she knew without doubt that if she invited these centurions into her bed, they would not so easily leave.
    It had been so long since she’d had a lover, and never had she had an affair. But it was more than that. In Titus’ eyes, he promised to offer her not just the pleasures of the flesh but his strength, his support. How she longed, just for once, to give her burdens to another, to have a lover, a companion, to turn her troubles over to and have him shoulder them with her, but she could not, or at least she dared not. And it was the look in Cassius’ eyes that stayed her.
    “I may be able to depend on you , Titus,” she said quietly, for his ears only. “Maybe I can even trust you, but not the both of you.”
    She’d spoken so quietly, surely only Titus could have heard her, but that was not the case.
    “You know nothing of me to make such claims as to whether I am trustworthy, as to whether I am