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with her hand on the latch and threw a hateful look over her shoulder before she yanked the door open and slammed it behind her.
    Titus threw his head back and groaned. Perhaps he had made the wrong decision in retaining Elspeth as his servant. If she intended to remain, she’d best learn her station in the scheme of things. Accompanying me on military duty? Preposterous.
    Bacchus had warned that Count Theodosius would not approve of her presence in the fort, let alone the servant’s quarters—though Titus had convinced himself that once Elspeth shined the count’s armor and polished his saddle, Theodosius would appreciate her worth.
    He should send her away. Damn it all, he should have done so the first day, and by Zeus’s lightning, he’d take care of her defiant attitude as soon as he returned from this tour.
    Titus dropped onto the bed and stared at the blasted orange canopy. In the week since he’d allowed her to stay, he had become accustomed to her presence just as he would with a dearly loved pet—though not quite so. As of late, Titus had anxiously returned to his chamber each evening, pleased she would be there to attend him. In a short time, he had grown accustomed to her lovely smile, her unassuming presence. An ache spread across his chest. Hades’s fire, his cock had been hard for an entire week. He never had been one to visit a brothel, but the idea now tempted him. He needed Elspeth out of his life before he completely lost his mind.
    Then Titus made the mistake of closing his eyes. He envisioned her sleeping, curled up on her pallet, her scent still lingering in the air. The fire in his groin grew ever hotter. Caesar’s bones, why the hell was he, a centurion, fixating on a barbarian lass? True, she had unusual skills with weapons and languages, and he couldn’t deny he had a nonsensical, feral attraction to her, but he could not—must not—lose sight of the fact that Elspeth was a savage. He jumped to his feet and stormed out the door. He’d regain control if he had to douse his entire body in a cold pool.
    Pushing outside, he welcomed the blast of brisk air. Titus had no business allowing himself any feelings for a servant. His father was awaiting his return to Rome so he could marry Abelia. Though Titus was not the eldest son, his father had provided him with lands. As a member of highborn Roman nobility, he was expected to marry within his class. He had never seen the woman to whom he was promised, but she wasn’t the first. It was difficult to maintain a betrothal when the Emperor had him defending the empire in every province hundreds of miles from Rome.
    He took a deep breath. He didn’t know if Abelia’s father would keep his word and wait for Titus’s return. He didn’t know if he would ever marry at all. But of one thing he was certain—Elspeth could no longer occupy his thoughts. He’d made his decision. Upon his return, he would have Bacchus find her other employment. It was for the best.
    ****
    Elspeth woke before dawn, slipped out of the garrison’s side gate and headed toward the stable where Tessie was hidden. Last eve she’d wanted to give Titus a piece of her mind. Playing the demure servant was pushing her patience. Leave me behind? We shall see about that. I shan’t sit idly by whilst his lordship tours the countryside, making plans to invade me kin’s land.
    No respectable spy would allow herself to be ordered around by the enemy—a Roman, no less. The sooner she discovered his plans and if they included invading Pict lands, the sooner she could return home to Dunpelder and fight beside her kin.
    She reached for the comb and brushed her mare with forceful strokes. Her blood raced as if it were boiling. Last night, when Titus had grasped her shoulder, she’d feared he would kiss her. But what had frightened her more was the reaction of her own flesh. Her heart had raced, setting a fire to her very own womb. How could her body betray her? Of course, his pigheaded,