Titus walked outside, seeing the platter of food beside Abigail, little enough eaten to tell him it had been recently delivered. He turned to Phillip. “Have you had your meal yet, Phillip?”
The large man greeted him with a brightening of the eye if not a smile and shook his head.
“Go ahead.”
As the eunuch obediently headed inside, Titus slid over to Abigail, whose sleepy eyes had come open at his voice. She smiled up at him. “I did not expect you back so soon.”
Titus sat beside her on the chaise. “A ship from Israel has arrived. It sails for Joppa in four days.”
“Oh.” A flicker crossed her face that made a pleased whisper travel up his spine, something glad that she seemed no happier about the impending separation than he. Her smile looked forced. “Good. I am eager to get home.”
Titus reached out and brushed a stray tendril of hair from her brow. “We have not found you a handmaiden yet. We will have to look with more diligence tomorrow.”
She nodded her acquiescence, and Titus drew in a deep breath, saying in a whisper, “My father is determined you will not leave without learning that the Asiniuses think you nothing but a slave. He demanded proof that I have already taught you that, Abigail. He is watching now from the library.”
She did not look that direction, but he felt a shiver run through her. She searched his face, settled her gaze on his eyes. Smiled. “What is your plan to convince him?”
He smiled too, trying to make it look as though they were merely exchanging a teasing conversation. “I must kiss you, dear one.” He followed his words with the action before she had a chance to respond.
He knew that he could not move with caution, otherwise it would not look as though it was a regularly occurring practice. So he took her lips quickly, lightly, teasingly, then again as his hand settled on her waist, then a third time with a smile, lingering. His lips parted hers even as her arms came around him.
It felt as though his blood flamed. He melted under those small hands that were on his neck, his back. His hand slid around her, up her back, pulling her closer until she was pressed against him, his body noticing with approval that she pulled him closer too, even as his mind screamed at him to remember this was only an act. Which meant if he wanted it to stay that way, he had better end it soon.
Figuring his father had seen enough, Titus scooped her up and carried her into his room, knowing the dimness of the interior would hide them from view. He put her on her feet, though it took more than a moment of self-lecture to convince his lips to pull away from hers.
Their arms were still around each other when he looked down into her eyes, as hazy as his. “Perhaps,” he said breathlessly, “that was not such a wise idea after all.”
“Probably not.” Abigail pulled his head down to hers again. Her kiss was intoxicating, hungry, and he returned it as greedily as she gave it. When finally she pulled away, it was with a long breath. “I am sorry. I should not have done that.”
Titus smiled and buried a hand in her long, silken tresses. “I am not sorry. I have wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you. You are lucky that I now have the strength to stop at that.”
“You have grown much.” She gave him a luminous smile. “I am proud of you, Titus.”
He returned the smile, but he knew it was not so bright. “I cherish that, my friend. But even though I respect you more than anyone I know, it is probably a blessing that you are leaving soon. I am only a man, and you challenge my strength constantly.”
A hint of a blush stole into her cheeks, but she neither pulled nor looked away. “I suspect you are right. For I am only a woman and not above temptation either.”
A rather dangerous thing for her to say to him when she was still in his arms. But luckily the sound of hurried steps approaching his door was enough to convince him to step away rather than devour her lips again. As soon as the knock sounded, he called out, “Enter!” and hoped that he looked more composed than he felt.
It was Phillip, and he carried a letter in his hand. “From Israel.”
Titus took it quickly and broke the seal. “It is from Drusus Visibullis,” he announced, which drew Abigail to his side so that she could read the missive with him.
The first news the letter contained made her cry out in joy. “She improves!” She smiled first at Titus, then at Phillip. “Praise God.”
“There is more. They are coming to Rome.” He let the hand holding the letter fall to his side and looked over at the happy woman beside him. “He instructs you to remain here with me until they arrive.”
Abigail stilled, her eyes landing on his. What had passed between them a minute before passed again now. “For how long?”
Titus shook his head, handing the parchment to her to see for herself. “He writes that he will not leave until Ester is well. It could be weeks or months, Abigail.”