Free The Patrician's Fortune- A Historical Romance by Joan Kayse

Damon. A criminal who quoted love poems, fed small birds and sparked unnerving feelings deep in her belly with one heated look. He was much more devious than she’d anticipated.
    Lares’ expression filled with concern. “Sister, something troubles you. What is it?” His eyes filled with anxiety. “Have you had news from father?”
    It nearly broke Julia’s heart to hear the fear in his voice. Lares was still mourning the death of their mother two years past. The physicians speculated that was part of the reason why he had not fully recovered from the same fever that had claimed Eirenne Manulus.
    She smoothed the covering over his weakened legs. “No Lares, no word yet as to when father will return.” If he returned. She hid her own sorrow and worry behind a bright smile. “But I do have some news.”
    He folded his arms, waiting, watching, impatience written on his face.
    Julia cleared her throat and widened the smile on her face to the point of pain. This would be the first—and hardest—test of her scheme. “Do you recall the trip I made with father to Silicia? Just before the festival of Janus?”
    Lares nodded curtly. “The one that you said was too taxing for me?”
    She swallowed, tried to clear the dryness from her throat. “Well, while I was there I renewed an acquaintance with an old friend. Someone you’ve not met, as his family moved to the provinces before you were born.”
    “There are many of your friends I’ve never met, Julia,” replied Lares dryly. “I am eight years younger, far beneath the notice of your illustrious crowd.”
    She frowned at him. When had her brother acquired such an acerbic manner? She’d been delighted when her baby brother had arrived, trailing after his nursemaid begging to hold him, finding new, and interesting playthings to entertain him. He used to follow her around, adoration in his eyes. Now those eyes were sharp and tinged with bitterness and too discerning for comfort.
    “What does this friend have to do with the news you bring?”
    A loud rapping on the front entry door interrupted her answer to Lares, whose eyes narrowed at her obvious distress. She heard the anxious protests of Basil, their doorman, followed by an inaudible, but terse reply from Kaj.
    “Well, Lares, I know I should have told you...”
    A very distraught Basil hurried down the garden path. “Mistress, please forgive me. He says…Well, Kaj said it was…
    “Julia, darling one. How very unlike you not to inform your gatekeeper of my arrival.”
    Julia shot a quick look to Lares puzzled expression before concentrating on Damon, who strode down the stone pathway as if he were master of his own destiny. The warmth in her belly began to simmer.
    The pure—white tunic she’d provided for him stopped at the knees but did little to hide the hard line of muscles in his thighs. His shoulders actually seemed broader with the confidence he exuded. He carried the heavy folds of a toga easily over his left arm, the purple stripe placed just so.
    Around his neck hung a beaten medallion of gold studded with rubies. They complemented the matching bands at his wrists, which did an excellent job of hiding the evidence of his recent fetters though not the healing cut on his arm. Damon had refused to elaborate on how he’d received the injury but assured her if asked, he would provide a plausible explanation. He was, she imagined, quite good at explanations.
    Julia had raided the family coffer and provided several rings; one set with a large ruby, another with a carved lion’s head similar to her own. She could still see the crooked smile Damon had sent her noting how romantic it was for a husband and wife to sport matching jewelry.
    His hair was swept away from his face and queued at his nape with another gold band, which had a devastating effect, accentuating the squared line of his jaw, giving his face a dangerous edge. She’d argued against the longer style, wanting a close crop of curls, as was the