He wondered if she liked chocolate. He wondered if she had ever had it at all. “Did you like your life in the temple?”
“I had my duties. I was cared for. I had purpose and direction. The Mother Arkhiereus was kind to me. It was the only life I have ever known.”
“You were never sold before?”
“Not since the first time. When I was an infant.”
Nero winced and pulled in a hiss through his teeth in sympathetic pain. He had hoped he had purchased a contracted slave whose tenure he could let expire. By then, she would love him, and they would be married.
But she was not a contracted slave. She was a born slave. There was no expiration on her papers. But what kind of born slave held the kind of wealth she did in the elaborate chain around her neck? Her parents must have been powerful people. But not powerful enough to avoid selling off their daughter as an infant, it seemed. “Do you know who your parents were?”
“No. I don’t know what they did that required selling me to pay their penance, either. But whoever they were, they were people of power.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t. I only suspect. What other excuse is there for the temple to take in a born slave with this kind of value?” She pulled the beautiful necklace out from under the V-cut hem of her robes and the cleavage he still wanted to bury his face into. He tried to focus. This was important.
“By Isis,” Kema breathed and leaned forward to take a closer look at it. “I’ve never seen one like that before.”
“I know this is why you have purchased me, Nero.” Hope leaned back against the leather, and it creaked quietly. “To learn my mystery. You think I might still be leverage for some political means.”
Nope. Hadn’t even occurred to me.
He looked over at Kema, and she shrugged as if to say, “It could be worse.”
“You see through me.” Nero pretended to sound dejected. “Well done, my little sleuth. You should be a detective in the force.” It makes sense, I’ll give her that.
Shit.
Now I have to figure out who she is.
Shit.
“I suppose we could work together to solve the mystery.” He smiled and enjoyed that idea. “You and me. How’s that sound?”
“I…do not like the idea of being used as a pawn. But I have always wanted to know.”
“Good! Well, then, we’re settled. You will maintain the air of being my religious advisor—I see you already have your annoyed-to-death-by-Nero routine down pat—and together we will work to solve the riddle of who you are. If it benefits me in the end, even better.”
Your end’ll benefit me fine. He snickered at the thought but didn’t voice it.
Kema had her head in her hand. His assistant never needed him to voice his thoughts to assume the worst. She was always right.
He held out his hand for Hope to take it. And waited. And waited. She didn’t respond. Right. Fuck. Nero reached out and picked up Hope’s hand. “Do we have a deal?”
She hesitated. With a long sigh, she likely concluded she had no real choice in the matter. “Deal.”
Nero stretched, folded his arms behind his head again, and smiled in pride. “This is going to be fun.”
4
The rest of the car ride went largely without incident. Hope couldn’t have been happier for it. Nero was shockingly quiet and kept his hands surprisingly to himself. He and Kema talked through the day’s affairs. He had an afternoon full of meetings before “the party” was to start this evening.
“Oh! Right.” Nero snapped his fingers. He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. She could feel his skin through the openings in the ties of her robe. He was hot to the touch—hotter than a person should normally be. She supposed she should not be surprised. The South Wind’s aspect was fire, after all. “The party. It’s in your honor. To welcome you home.”
“It isn’t necessary.”
“I love a party!”
“He barely needs an excuse,” Kema added. Hope liked the other woman rather instantly. She was sarcastic, calm, and seemed to enjoy needling Nero at every opportunity. And Nero not only appeared to tolerate her but to…enjoy it.
Maybe this wasn’t going to be the terrifying nightmare she had been worried about. Maybe. Expect the worst. And she did. Nero was a madman. He was known for being as unpredictable as the weather on the southern islands.
At least she knew his game now. At least