He took a step forward.
She took a step back and into a column. She gasped in surprise as she hit it, likely having been too focused on him to listen to the warning from her little pieces of hardware. He closed the distance between them. He didn’t care a lick about the witnesses. He was a Cardinal. He pressed the length of his thigh to hers, pinning her to the polished marble surface.
“Let me go, please—”
“Not until you answer my question.” He caught her cheek in his hand again. She was so soft. So smooth. With his other, he let his fingers comb through her soft chocolate waves and push her hood off to her shoulders as he did. “Am I a terrible kisser? Is that why you struck me? Was I not up to your high standards?”
“I struck you because—”
“Answer my question. Am I a terrible kisser, yes or no?”
She hesitated. Her face was flushing so beautifully. He wanted to taste her skin again. He would soon. How he wished he could simply place her in his thrall. It would make everything so much easier. But it was clear the gods wanted him to work for this one. And so, I shall.
“Perhaps you didn’t get a good enough measure, hm? Let’s try again, so you can give me your more educated opinion…” He lowered his face to hers, meaning to steal another kiss. But as he was about to, what he received was a slap across the face instead.
Crack.
Again.
He laughed and pulled back. “Why all the protest?”
“You cannot go about forcing yourself on me. I do not care who you are.”
“You think that this is force?” He hummed. “No, dear, this is nothing of the sort.” The gold chain around her neck caught his attention again, and he smiled. He let his hand on her cheek trace down her neck. She shivered and tried to push him away from her. He shushed her quietly. “I’m not going to hurt you. It’s the farthest thing from my mind. Trust me.”
“I have no concept of what it is that you’re after, but—”
“Oh, you do.”
“I’m not—this is not a temple to Aphrodite or Eros. This is a holy place. Let me go.”
He traced the gold chain down toward her enticing cleavage and gently scooped the chain up in his hand. He moved slowly enough as not to startle her. When he held the pendant, he could not help the grin that spread across his face. He knew it was wolfish and cruel.
He was happy she could not see it.
At the end of the gold chain was an emblem in gold leaf. It was sandwiched between two pieces of glass to protect the thin foil. A tassel at the end had more gold adornments. It was a beautiful and expensive piece of jewelry. But it was what it represented that made him smile.
All at once, plans began to roll over in his head. A wonderful game—a wicked scheme—was quickly falling into place. The emblem made of gold leaf represented the temple of Hera.
It was a mark of ownership.
Hope. A priestess of Hera. A woman blind to his hypnotism and remarkable good looks.
And a slave.
Perfect.
She belonged to the temple. He wondered what had happened that had made her sell herself into service. He bent his head and kissed the pendant. Judging by the way she shuddered, she could sense what he had done even if she could not see it for herself.
“Oh, Hope…” he murmured as he ran his thumb over the pendant. “Oh, my beautiful and wonderful Hope. You’ve gone and proven something to me, and I’m very grateful for it. I forgive you for hitting me—both times. Although I think I am going to have to start keeping count.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was beginning to doubt. But this—this right here—is proof.” He grasped the pendant and pulled, tugging her head away from the column and toward him.
“Proof—proof of what?” She was still so afraid. So uncertain. She was shivering, even if she had the balls enough to fight him, she had clearly lost her mental footing. He did that to people. He was used to the look on her face. It was as if she meant to say, “What in the name of the seven hells is wrong with you?” but couldn’t manage to make the words come out.
He rightfully didn’t know the answer to the question. He had never bothered answering it, either when it was implied or asked out loud.
“Proof