Forbidden To The Gladiator – Greta Gilbert

‘Do you know what is worse than being violated by a twisted man?’ Arria asked bitterly. ‘Knowing that your friend is enduring such a fate and there is nothing you can do about it.’ ‘She is stronger than you know,’ Grandmother whispered, hearing Arria’s sobs. ‘It should have been me,’ Arria sputtered. ‘Do not weep for her.’ ‘I will weep for my mother, then.’ ‘More wasted tears! Mothers are the strongest people there are.’

‘She is heavy with child, yet she starves.’ ‘Hush now. Remember your pigeon.’ Arria shook her head. ‘My mother says that hope resides in the next world. And eternal salvation, too. I fear she will be there soon.’ ‘She follows the way of Jesus?’ Arria wiped her tears. ‘She says we must endure suffering with grace, just as Jesus did on the cross.’

‘Well, I would not go that far.’ ‘But is that not what you do—what we all do here?’ ‘Do you think that is what I do? Endure suffering?’ There was a long pause, then an ancient harrumph. Arria felt a wooden object being pressed into her palm. ‘Be careful not to touch the tines,’ Grandmother whispered. ‘They are very sharp.’ Arria slid her fingers gently along a long flat surface that forked into two arched curves.

She touched her finger against the tip of one of the curves. ‘Ouch!’ ‘Did I not warn you, dear?’ ‘How did you forge such an object?’ Arria asked. She had seen the guards gather the women’s knives and scissors at the end of each day and count them carefully. ‘During the day, when I see the guards are not looking, I use my carving tool.’ ‘But the guards are always looking.’ ‘I admit that it has taken some time to carve.

Fortunately, time is something I have much of.’ ‘How much time?’ ‘About ten years.’ Arria could not believe what she was hearing. Ten years? The carving must have amounted to a single pass of the knife each day. ‘You have the patience of Penelope,’ whispered Arria. ‘And the breasts of Kybele,’ added Grandmother. Arria stifled a giggle, then realised what Grandmother was trying to say. ‘That is where you hide it? Beneath your breasts?’ ‘Clever girl,’ said Grandmother. ‘I think you are much cleverer than I.’

Grandmother gently took the weapon from Arria’s palm. ‘There are many things one may choose to do with suffering. Enduring it is just one of those things.’ ‘The son of my mother’s god endured great suffering.

He’ll fight to the death She’ll fight to save him! When her father wagers her hard-earned money on a gladiator battle—and loses!—Arria is forced into slavery, just as trapped as the gladiator she blames for her downfall, rugged Cal. She’s furious, yet also captivated by their burning attraction. Cal’s past has made him determined to die in combat, but can Arria give her forbidden warrior something to live for…and a reason to fight for their freedom?

“The engaging characters, impossible situation, and the power exchange between master and slave will have readers up past their bedtime.” —RT Book Reviews on In Thrall to the Enemy Commander “Singing with atmosphere and with scholarship, In Thrall to the Enemy Commander gives us an enigmatic heroine who fascinates at every turn, and immerses us fully in a world long-gone, but wonderfully-conjured.” —Romantic Intentions Quarterly on In Thrall to the Enemy Commander OceanofPDF.com Arria pursed her lips, and Cal sensed her holding back tears.

If there had been any doubt in his mind that she had been sold into servitude, it was washed away by the small tear he watched leak from her eye and trace a path down her cheek. Without thinking, he pressed his finger to her cheek and caught it. She blinked. Stared up at him. His stomach tightened. He realized that he wanted to kiss her.

“There,” she said suddenly, stepping backward, and her deep blush told him that she had felt it, too. Whatever it had been. Lust, he told himself. Simple, physical lust, born of the fact that he had not enjoyed a woman’s company in many, many months. But that would be remedied—and very soon. He was glad she had stepped away. If she had not, he might have taken one of those small, coiling curls of hair and wrapped it around his finger. He might have made the mistake of reaching through the bars, catching her by the waist and pulling her close enough to drink the tiny bead of water that had lodged itself in its small crevasse of her shapely upper lip.

He might have violated one of his most important rules: never to kiss a woman. OceanofPDF.com Author Note I swear that I did not set out to write another gladiator story.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: 03d77b0f87cd2433
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 983,478 bytes (0.938 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 222
• Language: English (en)

Reading & Word Statistics

• Estimated Reading Time: 381.13 minutes
• Total Words: 76,227
• Total Characters: 418,062
• Average Words per Page: 343.36
• Average Characters per Page: 1883.16

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