Free The Perfect Concubine by Michelle Styles Page A

you are paying attention to Aventine gossip.’
    Valeria hated the way she tried to see something of the passionate youth she had once loved more than life itself in those carefully controlled features. Before setting out, she had whispered to her reflection that their shared past was forgotten. But under his gaze, a slow tingle went down her spine as she remembered his soft touch against her skin. She banished it.
    â€˜You were the only capable person left to ask.’ Valeria forced her voice to remain even. ‘The others are cowards and scoundrels.’
    A brief light flared in his dark brown eyes. ‘What are you offering, Valeria? What are you offering that you have not offered every other ship owner from here to Ostia? Your body? I have had that before and suffered for it.’
    Anger flashed through her at the insinuation. She was no concubine or whore who spread her legs for any man. She longed to storm out and never set eyes on him again but, for her mother’s sanity and her brother’s life, she swallowed her pride. She crossed the atrium, knelt at his feet and held up the small bag of gold. ‘The man I used to know would never humiliate a woman, particularly a respectable matron.’
    â€˜You were always keen on your respectability, weren’t you, Valeria?’
    The words sliced through her. She knew she should have expected them, but she had clung to the hope that somehow he understood how she had suffered and the sacrifice she had made for him.
    â€˜I have brought gold, Piso. For my passage. More than enough. Count it. Tell me when we leave. I’ll be there. I’ll brave the journey.’
    The air hissed through his lips as he angrily gestured for her to stand. ‘Your money is no good here. Go. Find someone else who might believe your lies.’
    Valeria slowly lowered the bag and rose to her feet. All her hopes for this morning tasted like ash in her throat. ‘Why did you agree to see me?’
    â€˜To satisfy my curiosity.’
    His immodest gaze raked her form. Valeria forced her head to remain high. She was no longer a naive girl of fifteen in the throes of her first love, but a matron, a divorcée of twenty-one. She’d made the correct choice. This man stood before her, alive and arrogant, because of what she had sacrificed. Once she had whispered that it was enough that she knew he lived and breathed, but now she knew she’d lied. Against all reason, a tiny unacknowledged piece of her had hoped that he retained some feeling for her. That she’d meant more to him than a quick tumble in the temple gardens. That she hadn’t made a mistake in begging her brother Marcus to captain the early ship so that she and Piso could have one last night together.
    â€˜And now that your curiosity is satisfied, I’m to depart quietly?’ Valeria tapped her sandal against the mosaic floor, struggling to retain control of her temper. ‘That is low even for a man of your reputation, Piso.’
    â€˜You are as I expected you.’ His eyes smouldered. ‘You have more than grown into your promise, Valeria.’
    Against her better judgement, a warm curl of pleasure stirred deep within her. She banished it.
    â€˜Listen to me as you listen to other people’s pleas, and do not hold our past against me.’ She raised her hands in supplication.
    â€˜Is there any point?’ He shrugged his shoulder. The dark green silk rippled across his chest. ‘My men are more important than gold. If your father wants me to sail him to Cyrene, tell him—from me—to be a man. To come himself and beg rather than sending…his perfidious daughter.’
    She forced her lips to smile and show that his words failed to sting. She’d learnt other things hurt far more than words.
    The thought of returning to the tiny apartment they now called home, and explaining her failure to her mother, was unthinkable. But to go on sitting day after