Her impulsive questions had ruined everything, Julia thought. She needed to curb her tongue.

Julia fumbled with her clothes, attempting to pull her under-tunic over her head without allowing the towel to slip. She needed to be away from here, before she ended up in his arms again. Her under-tunic clung to her body where it was still damp, as she pulled it past her knees. It would have to do. Julia started to tie the belt around her chest. She had to get away. The walls seemed to be closing in on her, pushing her closer to Valens.

'Five years ago, he was the pirate chief responsible for capturing me.' Valens's voice resounded in the small chamber, echoing off the walls.

Julia's hand froze and the belt slipped through her fingers, falling silently to the floor. She stared at him in amazement, all becoming clear. She thought of the nightmare she had seen, and his pleas for help against an all-too-real-enemy.

'You should have said something. That day when Bato disrupted the ceremony,' she whispered, 'was that why you goaded him?'

'I have seen him slay men for looking him in the wrong way. I have seen him rape women for the sheer pleasure of hearing their screams. I have seen him murder for no better reason than that he was bored.' He raked his hand through his hair. 'That day, I suppose I wanted to show him that he no longer held power over me. I regret involving you.'

His eyes looked past her to the shadows on the walls. Julia turned her head and she thought she could see the ships, the people and the murder in the flickers. She shivered and drew her undertunic tighter about her.

'He should have been crucified,' she said, forcing her gaze from the wall, trying to block out her imaginings. 'The arena is too good for people like that.'

'General Pompey and the rest of the senators in their wisdom decided to send him to the games.' Valens said laconically. He gave a shrug and a smile. 'Who is a mere gladiator to second-guess the wishes of perhaps the greatest general Rome has ever known?'

Julia remembered the curious dead-eyed glare Aquilia had given her that afternoon and how he had blocked her way when she tried to leave. A shiver ran through her, chilling her to bone despite the heat of the room. 'Do you think he'd still be able to hurt people, innocent people?' Like me? Julia crossed her arms and hugged her waist tight.

Valens crossed the floor of the small room in two steps. He gathered Julia into his arms and held her close. She rested her head on his chest and listened to the thumping of his heart. It told her far more than words ever could. Neither spoke.

'Julia, let me worry about Aquilia,' he said when he broke the silence. 'If it meant hurting you a little bit to save you from a greater injury, then I would do it again. It is for that reason only I seemed offhand. I did want to talk to you, but I worried that Aquilia would get ideas.'

'But why would he want to hurt me?'

'To strike at me. To put me off my stride. The man is determined to win at all costs. He has used the tactic before, I am certain of it. Not witchcraft, as Tigris claims, but good old-fashioned intimidation tactics. I wanted to ensure he had no reason to strike out at you, to harm you. If he had thought we were involved… Now say you forgive me,' he whispered against her hair.

Julia reached up and touched his face. 'I wished you had explained sooner.'

His answer was to brush her forehead with his lips.

Julia touched her mouth to his throat and tasted the slight saltiness of his skin. His arms tightened and the tenderness of a moment before was replaced with something else. It made Julia's heart beat faster and every muscle in her body feel alive.

'Your skin tastes of roses,' he said, his lips making trails of fire down her throat. Little flames of fire that grew and spread, until her body was alight.

'I thought you were only interested in soaking your aching shoulder,' Julia teased.

'It can wait.'

He touched her collarbone, pushing her gown off her shoulders. His tongue traced the length of her neck. Then he ran his hands down her body. She arched her back, pressing closer to him. His fingers stroked her breasts, fondling the nipples through the thin material until her body exploded with exquisite pain. Her breath came in short sharp gasps and her fingers plucked at the gown. Where before she had welcomed it as protection, now it imprisoned her body, prevented her skin from touching him the way she longed to.

'I think I shall begin to tutor you in what pleasure is about,' he whispered in a husky voice. His skin glowed golden in the lamplight.

His mouth touched hers and before she had a chance to draw back, he drew her forward so that her midriff touched his. His hands slid down her back to cup her bottom, and pulled her tighter against him. She could feel the strength of his desire and moaned in the back of her throat.

He eased her back among the discarded clothes and the warmth of the hypocaust-heated floor rose up to meet her. He slipped his hand under her tunic, running it up and down her curves. Her heart soared. He was touching her as if she was made of precious glass, with a slow sweetness. Her curves did not disgust him. He had acted that way because he sought to protect her. She felt wanted. This is what passion between a man and a woman felt like. She was alive in a way she had not been before, in a way she had never dreamt of being before.

With one fluid movement, he lifted and discarded both their tunics and Julia felt the smoothness of his skin against her. Nothing but the merest sheen separated them.

Where his hand had stroked, his mouth followed. She arched her back, driving upwards as his tongue lapped at her breast, drawing ever-increasing circles, before returning to suckle again. She closed her eyes and her body was rocked on a sea of sensation.

Tentatively she lifted a hand and ran it down the length of his back, feeling the indents of long-healed scars. How much he had endured. She raised her head and kissed a white scar on his chest. His thumb traced the outline of her lips.

'Thank you.' His voice was a husky rasp.

She nodded, unable to say anything.

His gentle fingers continued their exploration of her body, building waves of desire that peaked and then crashed throughout her body, filling her with a burning need to be one with him. But a little voice kept whispering about her failures. She might be experiencing this, but was he? What if she disappointed him? She resisted the temptation to move.

His hands gently nudged her thighs apart and became entangled in her curls. One finger touched her innermost spot and then retreated. A stab of fear coursed through her. What would he find there? Would he become angry like Lucius had? Julia steeled herself for rejection. But he kissed a forefinger, then touched her lips. The need within her deepened.

She tugged at his shoulders and he moved back up her body until the tip of him was positioned between her thighs.

'Are you ready?' His voice was barely recognizable.

She stiffened, knowing what was coming next and fearing the pain that had always come with it. She worried her earlier experiences had spoilt her for ever. And she hated to think that he might be disappointed in her. But how to tell him? She wanted to go on, her body demanded it, but she was nervous about the ultimate joining. She wanted him to experience what she was. Her fingers reached out and touched the smooth curls on his head where they caressed his forehead.

He raised his head, his dark eyes boring into her, reaching her soul. 'I only want to give you pleasure, Julia. You are giving me so much. See what you are doing to me. Feel what you are doing.'

He gently took her hand and brought it down to his shaft, urged her to touch it, to explore its smooth hardness. It felt like warm marble. A shudder of excitement coursed through her body. She had caused this. He wanted her. He was here because he wanted to taste her, to kiss her, to make love to her. He was not here because it was his duty. He was here because he desired her and wanted to give her pleasure.

She drew his face towards hers and recaptured his mouth, parting her lips and inviting his tongue to enter and take possession of her. He groaned in the back of his throat. Their tongues touched, tasted and tormented each other until she felt the warmth between her legs grow hot and slick.

With each stroke of his tongue, her fears receded until they became consumed in the flame he was stoking inside her. Every nerve in her body tingled as if it was on fire. She felt his probing fingers enter her secret place once again and shuddered with pleasure as they slipped in and out, faster and faster. Her back arched, demanding more. She wanted everything. Her legs parted. She moaned in the back of her throat and she felt the whole length of him enter her and her body stretched to envelope him.

Then he lay still, with his pulsating warmth buried deep within her as if that was all he desired. But Julia knew it was not enough. Not nearly enough. She needed more. She wanted to feel the pleasure that comes with joining. With an age-old instinct, she began to move her hips, feeling the length of him within her, increasing her need for him.

Always when she was married, she had dreaded this bit and had tried to lie as still as possible, but now she knew she wanted it to last for ever. She wanted to feel the rhythm of his body, this feeling of soaring and yet being as close to someone as possible. This is what the poets wrote about. This was why the gods came down to earth. This was what it meant to be a woman.