Read Virgin Territory for Free Online Page B

have given the game away, so what was it? Pleurisy? Pneumonia? Jaundice? All three? He couldn’t stand the suspense.
    ‘Ah what , Tingi?’
    The Libyan, noting the slave had pretty well finished adjusting his master’s clothing, dismissed him with a nod of the head. Orbilio was not reassured by the gesture.
    ‘She has left the country, sir.’
    ‘She’s what ? Did you say, left the country?’ Orbilio rubbed his forehead. ‘Where’s she gone?’
    ‘Sicily.’
    Orbilio puffed out his cheeks and stared up at the ceiling. This was just his luck. His boss had made bloody sure he was out of the way (and fast!) after those murders, there was no time to call on her, and he hadn’t been able to word a letter correctly. Say too much and it’s open to ridicule. Say too little and you’re misunderstood. Empty stomach or not, he poured himself a large glass of wine and waited until he felt it warm him inside before pressing for details. And then he wished he hadn’t waited, because there were no details.
    ‘How do you mean, no one’s letting on?’
    Tingi spread his hands. ‘Not to me, any rate. I tried bribing that Macedonian steward of hers, but he threw me out on my ear.’
    Not strictly true. He got two of his burlier servants to do the job for him.
    ‘Shit.’ You could hear the resignation in Orbilio’s voice in the next street. ‘Help me on with my toga, would you.’ It might be late, but dammit, he had to know where she was. Every night he was tortured by the memory of Claudia Seferius, her thick hair escaping from its moorings, the sun bouncing back blazing tints of gold and copper and bronze. Every night he dreamed he was running his hands through those luscious locks, watching the curls tumble over her shoulders, down, down, down to cover her breasts. And what breasts! He had seen them once, firm and arrogant, a sight never to be forgotten. He longed to kiss her, hold her in his arms, feel his manhood against her. Inside her. Love or lust he wasn’t certain, but he’d give either a go tomorrow, given half a chance.
    ‘Stay with you through thick and thin, Orbilio? Till you’re thick round the middle and thin on top, you mean. No fear.’
    Those words had never actually been spoken, but it was only a question of time, he felt. Unless he could win her over—and he was unlikely to do that while she was swanning around Sicily!
    The smell of chicken in pepper sauce tormented him as he passed through the atrium, clutching nothing more interesting than a poppyseed loaf to chew on the way. Who was she with, he wondered, elbowing his way through the throng of late night revellers. What made her take off for Sicily, of all places? He prayed to Venus it wasn’t with a man—the mere thought brought a sharp pain to his gut. As if to drive salt into a wound, he practically collided with a young couple, panting and intertwined, against a street corner. The sight of the boy, one hand on the girl’s buttocks, the other fondling her exposed and naked breast, stirred his loins. How long since he’d taken a woman himself? He’d been tempted in Ostia, but always at the back of his mind was a picture of one woman whose beauty made others wilt in comparison. The flounce in her walk, the toss of her head—who could come close to matching her? Orbilio felt his desire rising as the boy tugged at the girl’s tunic to expose her soft white parted thighs and he forced himself to walk on. The sages had it wrong, he thought. It was abstinence which made the heart grow fonder.
    The admittance of wheeled traffic into the city from sunset onwards meant he had to avoid the main thoroughfares in order to make any kind of progress, but the sidestreets presented hazards of their own. Once, as he passed the tenements, he only just managed to dodge a torrent of filth which came flying through an upstairs window and in the Forum, at the foot of the steps to Venus’s temple, an ugly brawl was in progress and Orbilio counted himself