Page 79 of Tempting Jupiter
In addition to the guests, servants wrapped in white togas offered food and drinks. In the long expanse between the cage and Morgan’s stage, waist high pillars dotted the floor, serving as tables.
“That was impressive.” The voice resonated with power and health despite the man’s age. The old man stood in front of Jupiter’s cage, smoky haired with cynical eyes. Too close.
Jupiter had been too distracted. He bared his teeth and growled to back the man off.
The man showed no fear. “I’ve seen you fight in the arena.” His tone turned sad. “With my Seneca.”
His Seneca? Muscles tight, his fists clenched, Jupiter growled again.
The man shook his head. “Speak like a man.”
Jupiter didn’t understand the tone. There was plenty of arrogance, and the voice was instructive, but nothing at all like the whip-masters who’d trained him. “Who. Are. You.” It was hard to form the question through clenched teeth and over the growl that still vibrated in his throat. He was afraid he knew exactly who the man was and the thought enraged him.
“Andre Cervenka. Perhaps Seneca has mentioned me?” His features softened when he spoke of Sen.
Disgust made Jupiter’s stomach twist. “He never mentioned the names of any of the humans who abused him.”
Cervenka’s tidy eyebrows lowered. “Abused him?” He shook his head, then smiled. “I loved him. Still do. And he loved me.”
Feeona and Seneca’s scents pulled at Jupiter. The knowledge that they approached kept him from reaching through the bars and ripping the man’s throat out.
Feeona stepped up alongside the man. “Children do learn to love their abusers.”
Jupiter admired her ability to confront the man in a way he could not. He relied on his might to communicate his feelings. He didn’t have the words for insults.
Cervenka’s face tightened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He turned his gaze on Seneca, at Fee’s side. “Ask Seneca. He’ll tell you.”
Seneca stood like a statue with his head bowed in submission, but Jupiter scented his fear and his fury.
St. Germaine stood with them, looking amused.
Fee stepped into Cervenka’s space. “If you don’t get out of my sight, you’ll be missing the very body part you like to use against the children you rent and abuse.”
Sincerity colored Feeona’s voice, but the idiot seemed unaffected. Jupiter was affected. He loved her tough attitude and the softer side hidden beneath. Memories from when they’d first met rushed back and reminded him why he’d been unable to resist her.
“It looks like you may have fierce competition for the bidding after all, Feeona.” Morgan’s chuckle broke into Jupiter’s thoughts. “Unless Cervenka, you’re more interested in Creek. Another fine specimen.”
Feeona made a show of looking Creek up and down. “They’re both too old for this bottom feeder.”
Jupiter bit his tongue to keep from barking.
Cervenka ignored them all and instead spoke to Seneca. “You weren’t supposed to be here.”
Sen raised his head. The lavender of his eyes had darkened to near black. Cold rage poured out of the inky depths and sarcasm dripped from every word he spoke. “Forgive me for living after I grew too old to interest you.” Jupiter could see the role Sen played weighing him down when he’d rather have dug his fingers into the man’s eyes.
“Well…” After a moment, Cervenka turned away. “I can be gentleman enough to give you some space—for now.”
Morgan rubbed the back of his hand down Fee’s bare arm. “I can see why you haven’t been more successful in your business. You need me, Feeona.” He sighed dramatically. “But I need to go calm my buyer. The man has a large fortune to spend.” St. Germaine turned on his heel to follow Andre Cervenka through the crowd.
The moment the men were out of earshot, pain bled through from the back of Feeona’s eyes. The smoky color striped across her face made them appear large and bright, exotic and mysterious. She stood straight and tall. The black boots she wore had thick heels and clung to her legs, stopping just above her knees. They drew his attention to her bare thighs.
“Costumes and disguises are part of my lifestyle.” Her voice was low and husky. “But I’m still me, Jup.”
That final syllable jerked his gaze back to her face. “You’ve never called me that before.”
“Seneca calls you that all the time.” She wove her hand in Sen’s and he squeezed it in return. His mates were united.
The movement in Fee’s hair caught Jupiter’s attention. Bug launched into the air and flew toward him, landing on his shoulder. It crawled closer to his throat and latched on to the shock collar he wore.
