Several hours later, Livia was wishing she had stayed abed as she took one more agonising step forward. Every muscle in her body screamed out in protest and she lifted a shaking hand to wipe the sweat off her face. They had been walking for the best part of the morning, and she didn’t know if she could take another step. Her head pounded, as she desperately fought back a wave of nausea.
“Metellus! Could…could I beg a little water please?” Those were the first words which had been spoken between them since they had arisen and broken camp. Metellus had been remarkable tight lipped since they had set off. No doubt he was still regretting kissing her yesterday…
Thankfully he stopped walking, and glanced across at her. His countenance was stiff and unyielding and Livia couldn’t help but notice that he looked more like a soldier than someone who toiled aboard a ship. He was wearing one of the red cloaks, obviously to protect his skin against the blistering sun. Strapped to his waist was one of the soldiers’ swords, and his bare muscled arms glinted with sweat from his exertions. Livia shivered at the masculine image he portrayed, as he stood watching her. He looked ready for battle rather than walking across endless miles of sand…
But when he saw her face he frowned, and dropped the makeshift sleigh he’d been dragging behind him, and walked over to her. With gentle fingers he lifted her chin. Something shifted in his eyes as he frowned down at her. “Are you ill?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
“No not ill, just-” The words ended abruptly, when she fell forward, dropping the cloaks and some utensils she had been carrying, before everything went blank.
With lightning reflexes Metellus lunged forward, reaching for Livia just in time, so she fell into his arms and not onto the hot sand. He wrapped his arms around her. She felt so slight, so fragile, her bones as delicate as a bird he’d once held in the palm of his hand. Her arms flopped down by the side of her body, and Metellus lifted her higher so he now held her against the hard wall of his chest.
With an unconscious movement he dropped his chin until it rested on the top of her head, the gesture one of protection as he tried to ignore the press of breasts against the hardness of his muscles. But their fullness tempted him, so soft, like a plump cushion that he wanted to lay his head on and savour the sweetness of them with his mouth and tongue-
“Hades!” He cursed, annoyed with himself for once again falling under the spell of attraction he felt for this woman.
He lowered her to the ground, his movements gentle, and once he was certain she was a comfortable as possible he looked up at the sky. The sun was at its zenith, and they had been walking during the hottest part of day. What had possessed him to allow her to walk for so long in the heat? It was obvious she wasn’t strong enough to cope with the gruelling pace he had set since early that morning.
He had to get her out of the sun; so once again he lifted her into his arms, and walked back up the shoreline so she could at least benefit from the shade of the trees. Once he had lowered her onto the sparse grass which grew there, he ran back down to where he had left their supplies.
He untied the barrel of water from the makeshift sleigh of branches he’d made, his fingers fumbling with the leather strips which had been used to secure it; strips he’d taken from the sandals of the dead soldiers he’d had to bury. As he worked at the knots he cursed himself once more. He had been so preoccupied with trying to find out whether or not there was any life on the island, he had dismissed Livia out of hand.
And if he was honest with himself, he had deliberately blocked her out of his subconscious, trying to forget how good she had felt in his arms last night when he had kissed her. It was a kiss he had wanted to forget, and he had to some extent, but it had been at her expense!
Once he had the barrel upright, he opened the lid and reached for the small wooden bowl floating inside. Scooping out some of the precious water, ignoring the fact they had so little left, he walked back up to where Livia lay. She was still unconscious, her breathing rapid and shallow and he dropped to his knees. With shaking hands, he once again trickled water into her mouth, like he had done on the five days previous when she had lain unconscious.
The coolness of the water trickling down her throat was like ambrosia from the Gods and Livia flicked out her tongue, tasting the sweetness of it, desperate for more.
“Not too much, or you will make yourself ill.”
At Metellus’s whispered words, Livia opened her eyes and saw him kneeling over her. Concern was etched on his face, reflected in the darkened grey of his eyes.
“What…what happened?” She asked, aware of the huskiness of her voice as it rasped past her dry throat.
“You fainted.”
“Oh.”
“It was my fault. I should have realised you were still too weak to walk so far.”
“Oh.”
Metellus lips quirked, “Is that all you can say?”
Livia watched in fascination as a small dimple appeared on the right hand side of his face, and she was aware her mouth had opened in shock. Had he really just smiled down at her? She must indeed be ill! But before she could say anything to his last question, Metellus stood up and went over to where a small sapling grew. She watched as he stripped off several long branches, aware of his muscles rippling and bunching with the effort it took, until he came back to her, holding the branches up above his head like a slave carrying an ostrich feather parasol.
She realised what he was intending, and a warm glow flowed through her. His kindness was rather surprising, considering all that had happened between them so far.
“Thank you. The shade will help. You are most kind.”
Her words were met with a bark of harsh laughter and she saw his face close. Once again she’d managed to say the wrong thing.
“’Kind’ is not a word often used when describing me, Livia Drusus. You had best remember that.”
Livia stiffened at the sarcastic tone, and turned away from him. There was no reasoning with the man, “Yes. How stupid of me to forget,” she snapped, and made to stand up, not wanting to give him any excuse for her delaying them.
“Don’t move,” he ordered, “We will stay here for the rest of the day. Tomorrow, when you are rested, we will set off and try to make a full day of it.” Then he turned, and walked back down to where he had left their supplies.
Livia leaned back down on the grass and closed her eyes, willing the gods to send a ship to rescue her. Now!
Once again, Livia woke up early, and this time, before Metellus could ask whether she was awake or not, she got up. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Metellus was still asleep. She saw with a start, that the woollen cloak he was using as a blanket had slipped down to his waist, revealing the broadness of his naked chest, and his naked body.
Totally naked body she realised, her eyes widening, when she spotted his thin woollen tunic lying next to him. Her mouth went dry at the sheer beauty of his body as her eyes tracked the vast expanse of his chest, the hard muscles bronzed to a dark golden brown; muscles so well delineated, Livia had the urge to run her hands over them to see if they were as warm, and as hard to the touch as they appeared.
Once again she couldn’t help but acknowledge how handsome he was. It was a shame his tongue wasn’t as pleasing as his body. And as she thought of his tongue, and remembered the kiss they had shared, her eyes lifted to his face…and met his inscrutable gaze once more.
Hades he was awake! Awake and watching her, his face expressionless, closed. Livia’s stomach dropped as if someone had just punched her – hard – and she pulled in her lower lip in consternation, annoyed with herself for having been caught staring at him again. She looked away and walked over to where the water barrel stood. Taking a small cup of water she sipped from it slowly, ignoring