Page 71 of Trial of Bronze and Blood
He misses her again and stumbles forward, giving her the opportunity to smash the tankard into his skull. He collapses to the floor, unmoving.
She drops the weapon and turns to search for Marcus—finding him right beside her.
Grasping her hand, he pulls her through the crowd.
No one notices them as they fly up the stairs, away from the fight and out of sight.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
DRUSILLA
The sounds of the scuffle inside the underground tabernae follow them until they reach the last dozen steps. Exhilaration sings through Dru’s veins as Marcus tugs her through the door and yanks it shut behind him, breathing hard.
A part of her expects him to be angry with her for putting herself in danger. Even Ovi would chide her for not being more careful, for letting her emotions dictate her actions.
Yet, as they run down the dark alley, her hand still grasped in his, laughter, of all things, spills out of his lips in the quiet night.
He pivots swiftly down another alleyway and stops against the wall to catch his breath. The momentum and her hand gripped in his pull her toward him, and she finds her body flush against his. His arms wrap loosely around her, his chest heaving. She releases her own laugh, feeling lighter than she has in a long time. Lighter, even, than the wine made her feel.
It takes her a moment to realize he hasn’t pushed her away yet.
Glancing up at him, words evade her. All she wanted for the longest time was to be this close to him, for him to hold her in hisarms. And now that she’s here, she has no idea what to do with herself. If sheshoulddo anything.
The last remnants of the wine has other plans.
Dru shifts her hips into him, giving more control over her body than her mind. The wide, euphoric smile drops from his lips, and he grips the fabric of her dress. Want muddles her thoughts and fills her core.
She reaches up to brush her fingers along the bruise already forming on his jaw. His hand flexes against her at the gesture, the tips of his fingers pressing into the small of her back. She focuses on the purpling skin when she speaks again.
“You didn’t have to do that, you know?”
His bright, penetrating gaze searches hers when she meets it. “Do what?”
“Defend me. I can take care of myself.”
“I know,” he agrees, voice soft. “It’s one of your best qualities. But there’s nothing wrong with admitting you need help sometimes. You can’t take on the whole world, Drusilla.”
Her gaze slides to his lips and back, placing her entire body flush against his. “What makes you think I need your help.”
He glances at her lips in return, and her heart leaps in her chest, body aching. “You’ve never needed my help. But it’s freely given. Always.”
Her next breath trembles out between her lips at his small confession. She flattens her palm against his injured jaw and tilts her head up. His arms tighten around her, one hand splayed on her exposed upper back and the other curled into the fabric of her dress at her hip. Warmth pools in her stomach and spills lower, aching to the point it’s almost painful.
A breath away, she pauses.Why is Marcus allowing this to happen?Does he want her as much as she wants him? Even as he pulls her closer and her eyes flutter closed, she can’t help wondering what’s changed. Their short breaths mingle in the cool night, scattering her thoughts, their lips nearly touching…
“Praetor Marcus,” someone barks, and Dru’s eyes fly open. She stops moving—stops breathing. The heat of embarrassment races up her neck to her cheeks. “I never thought I’d see the day when you finally gave in to temptation. And with a Phaedran whore, no less.”
Marcus lets out a long, unsteady breath against her lips, his fingers flexing on her hip even as his eyes remain shut. Slowly shifting the hand on her back up to her neck, he gently slips his fingers into her hair. Despite the embarrassment she feels, she arches into him at his soft touch.
He whispers against her lips, “Forgive me.”
Without giving her a chance to respond, he turns her head so her cheek presses against the top of his chest, facing her away from the men.
“And you know how to ruin a good time,” he barks back at them.
The men laugh, not understanding the brush-off. Dru’s heart falls inside her chest.
“I’m sure we’d all like to have a good time with that one,” another one of them says. “Looks sturdy.”
