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

fashion. But Damon had disagreed, winning the argument that many citizens from the provinces wore their hair in just such a manner. And wouldn’t she prefer he play the part to perfection?
    Gods, he could pass for a patrician and not just because of his attire. His attitude and demeanor was infused with a natural arrogance impossible to learn.
    Enthralled with the image he presented, Julia did not realize until it was too late to make a graceful escape, that he was walking directly toward her. He stopped mere inches away, took her hands firmly in his own, leaned down and caught her mouth in a kiss.
    Every fear, every worry, every coherent thought fled her mind beneath the searing heat of his firm lips. He tugged on her bottom lip as he pulled away leaving her lips swollen and aching. Julia swallowed hard, caught by the intensity of those gray eyes and cleared her throat. “Lares, this is Damon Pontus—your brother-in-law.”
     

Chapter Six
     
    F rom the stunned expression on the brother’s face, Damon was not the only one surprised to find him wed to the lovely Julia.
    Wasn’t that interesting.
    He inclined his head toward Lares, whose eyes were still wide from the disclosure, taking in the blanket covering the boy’s legs, the paleness of a face thinned by illness. His pallor only served to accentuate dark circles beneath his eyes—eyes that narrowed suspiciously at Damon’s perusal. The boy may well be an invalid, but he was no fool. It wouldn’t do to give him time to think. He bowed more formally. “An honor to meet you at last, brother.”
    Lares scowled darkly. “Who are you?”
    As family welcomes went, it wasn’t the warmest.
    “Lares!” Julia admonished. “You will show respect to my husband.”
    Lares was unperturbed. “Who is this man, sister?”
    Tension seeped into Damon’s shoulders as he watched her hesitate, her mind working feverishly for an explanation. How many patrician ladies of her caliber had introduced condemned criminals or former slaves as their spouses? A muscle ticked in his jaw. After fifteen years he should be used to the contempt. But he wasn’t. Never mind that his lineage boasted more nobility than half the Senate. His father may have been a shiftless gambling drunk, but he was a shiftless gambling drunk with aristocratic ancestors.
    “Until father’s return, he is head of this household and this family,” she answered in a clipped tone that brooked no argument.
    A moment’s panic flashed behind the boy’s eyes, as blue-green as his sister’s. Lares deepened his scowl, crossed his arms and raked Damon with a mutinous glare. The boy had courage. Damon sent a sideways glance at Julia. Or perhaps he was just stubborn like his sibling.
    “Julia, I confess to being quite disappointed that you did not tell your noble brother about our nuptials. Why, I fair shouted the news in the streets so overcome was I by my good fortune.” He hid a smile at the fiery look Julia shot him before turning his full attention to Lares. “Things are much different here in Rome than Silicia, Lares. I hope I can call on you for guidance in matters of business and household.”
    Lares shifted, sent him a long measuring look, the distrustful expression easing the smallest bit beneath his request. Speaking to the youth on adult terms and acknowledging his abilities would lay a solid path between them. Trust and allies were always useful.
    “Welcome, Damon Pontus,” Lares muttered.
    Julia relaxed at her brother’s acquiescence but Damon was not fooled. The boy would require special attention to ensure this charade remained intact. Before he could open his mouth to ask if she had any other siblings, a flurry of activity on the opposite side of the garden had all three of them turning in that direction.
    An older woman came rushing toward them, a flower—filled urn tumbling in her wake. Chestnut hair streaked through with gray was artfully arranged atop her head, though a few errant curls,