Inferno's Kiss Read Free Page A

something, it’s difficult to convince her otherwise.”
    “Then perhaps she’s met her match in me.”
    Although his gaze was somber, there was just a hint of amusement curving his lips as he watched her. It stirred something deep inside her that helped ease some of the grief still assaulting her body. She closed her eyes at the memory of Gabriel’s death and how close Marcus had come to joining their son.
    A tear squeezed its way out from under her eyelid, and a harsh oath escaped Marcus. Her eyes flew open in surprise at the sound, and she saw Marcus move quickly to pull her up out of the desk chair. The moment his arms wrapped around her, she burst into tears. A shudder went through him, and she knew she was shedding tears for both of them.
    The grief she’d experienced the day the Praetorians had taken Gabriel from them had been different from the pain she was feeling now. Then, she’d been filled with terror for Gabriel’s life and her own. She’d killed one Praetorian before the second one had dealt her what should have been a deathblow.
    Until Cleo was born, she’d wished thousands of times that the Praetorians had killed her that horrible day. It would be better than living with the fact that she’d failed Gabriel. Failed to do her duty. She’d not had the courage to take her son’s life that day. She’d allowed herself to hold on to the hope that she could defeat the bastardi that had surprised her and their bodyguards.
    But she hadn’t. And the Praetorians had laughed at her as they’d dragged a crying Gabriel from her arms. Like her, they’d been certain she was as good as dead. They’d taunted her with departing words about how Gabriel would become one of them.
    It was a memory that haunted her every day. The bastardi had deliberately left her to die knowing the last few minutes of her life would be spent agonizing over the fate of her child. She was the one to blame for Gabriel. And the fact that she’d survived . . . if Marcus ever learned the truth, he’d never forgive her.
    She’d lied to him. She’d told him she’d been unconscious when they’d taken Gabriel. Even if she’d had the strength to do so, she could not have killed their son just to keep the Praetorians from taking him. Suddenly, she wished she were far away from Rome.
    She gently pulled out of his arms, grateful he’d not attempted to probe her thoughts. Her ability to keep her mental shield in place was sorely limited at this point. If he really wanted to know what she was thinking, he would have no difficulty breaking through her thoughts. The realization terrified her.
    To face his condemnation so soon after Gabriel’s death heightened the deep-seated fear that had never left her since the day of their son’s kidnapping. Afraid her expression might reveal more than she cared for him to see, Atia turned from Marcus and brushed away the wetness on her cheeks.
    “What are you afraid of, mea kara ?” His voice was a soft caress on her senses.
    My beloved. The endearment enveloped her with warmth. It made her feel treasured. Safe. And it emphasized her vulnerability where Marcus was concerned. She had always wanted to tell him the truth, just as she had wanted to tell him about Cleo. She simply hadn’t ever found the courage to do so.
    Her inability to explain her mistake only emphasized the fact that she’d never stopped loving him. She trembled as his hand caught her chin, and he forced her to look at him. There was a frown of concern on his face as he studied her. She pulled away from his touch and shook her head.
    “I’m not afraid, Eminence.” She winced at the dark cloud of irritation that swept over his features. “With your permission, I’ll take the Tyet of Isis back to White Cloud. It’s not safe here in Italy.”
    “Agreed,” Marcus growled. “I need to speak with Dante before we leave.”
    “We?” She hadn’t meant to sound so sharp.
    “Yes. We,” he said in a firm voice. “I wish to examine