Christina Phillips - [Forbidden 01] Read Free

fragile-looking wrists.
    Another step and he was close enough to breathe in her evocative scent of spring flowers and summer breezes. A clean, pure scent, one infinitely elevated from the stink of the masses or the claw of poverty. Or the mindless slaughter of the blood-soaked quagmires.
    “Where do you come from?” He used her language although he didn’t expect her to answer. This girl, whose air of fragility reminded him of a wood nymph, was from the chieftain class. Of that much he was certain. He trailed his knuckles across her cheek and gently grasped her jaw between thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him although she had shown no sign of dropping her gaze. “Where is your father’s settlement?”
    Her eyes darkened, dilated pupils almost obliterating her mystical, bicolored irises. Lust burned deep in his groin. Hot. Painful. He traced his thumb across her soft lower lip, felt the heat of her breath scorch his flesh. “Your husband’s?” His voice rasped, as if he had been lost in the desert for days without liquid sustenance. As if the thought of this girl belonging to another man grazed his soul.
    It made no difference if she were married or not. If he wanted her, he would have her, and to Tartarus with her entire family if they attempted to deny his desire.
    The tip of her tongue moistened the seam of her lips, and he imagined that tongue slipping between his own lips, invading his mouth, and his fingers tightened around her jaw.
    “I belong to no man.” Her words were low, breathless, yet clear and melodic to his ears.
    “You belong to me.”
    Her eyes never left his. “Do you take everything by force, Roman?” Her words were slow, deliberate, as if she wanted him to understand everything she said. She made an expressive gesture with her hand, encompassing the virgin forest. “My land. My people.” She paused for a heartbeat. “Me?”
    He rammed his gladius into the ground and cradled her face with both hands. “I don’t need to take you by force, my lady. But I’ll use force against any who try to keep you from me.”
    Her hand came between them, and the tips of her fingers touched his naked skin over the heavy beat of his heart. Her pressure was so slight he could scarcely feel her at all, and yet her touch branded him, reached deep inside and twisted his gut.
    He didn’t know her name. Didn’t know which noble claimed her. But none of that mattered. Because he had conquered their land for the mighty Caesar and everything and everyone was now owned by Rome.
    And here, he was Rome.
    Her fingers grazed over his chest, as if the texture of his flesh and hair fascinated her. His hands slid from her face to her throat, and the rapid beat of her pulse against his fingers sank into his blood, an erotic echo.
    “Aren’t you going to kill me?” Her whisper flickered through his brain, making no sense. Had he misunderstood? His grasp of her language was far from comprehensive. An oversight he intended to remedy forthwith.
    “Were you sent to spy on me?” Inconceivable anyone should send this fragile female on such an assignment, especially with only an ornamental dagger for defense. And yet the Celts were not Roman. Their women were rumored to be as ruthless as their men in battle.
    He’d witnessed such himself, from those villages whose inhabitants hadn’t surrendered voluntarily beneath the might of the Eagle.
    She looked up at him, fearless and silent. While he couldn’t imagine her engaged in bloody battle, she still had the courage of a warrior to stand up to him.
    He lowered his head as his hands slid over her shoulders. “If you weren’t sent to spy on me, then why should I kill you?”
    Her hand flattened against his chest, as if she meant to push him away but the touch became an irresistible caress as her palm rubbed over his erect nipple. His cock throbbed at her gentle touch, and the soft linen did nothing to hide the extent of his erection. Curling his fingers around her