It was relentless, this obsession. He thought of nothing else. He dreamt of nothing else. He ate and breathed and lived for one thing only, and that was the day he’d find her and apologize for the mess he’d made and explain that contrary to what she thought, it wasn’t him who’d done the terrible thing that had driven her away in the first place.

Unfortunately, D had no idea where Eliana had gone. Rome was a huge city, ancient and sprawling, with a million places to hide. Or disappear altogether. But he knew the city and the particular musk and heady sweetness of her scent equally well and had high hopes he’d be able to find her before too much time had passed. Before things got even more complicated.

Before things got dangerous.

He failed, though. Every day and every night for years he’d searched, all for naught. He scoured the city, the surrounding countryside, as far north as the Alps and as far south as the tiny island of Malta, but not a trace of her could be found. He knew there was the possibility she’d left the country, though he couldn’t really get himself to believe it. Like all predatory animals, the Ikati had a home range. He thought she’d stick close to hers.

Wrong. She was gone. And he had no idea where she went.

That and the dreams he’d been having about her were killing him.

“Bonum vespere, Bellator,” said a soft voice. D’s head jerked up.

On the smooth rock floor on the opposite side of the thermae pool stood a young woman, robed in red. Dark haired and dark eyed like all of their kind, she also was very young. And very lovely. In layer over pale, wavering layer, light from the moving waters danced over her face, her body, the walls of the room. He searched his memory for her name…Iris. Former member of the Electi. Celian had disbanded the harem when the old king had died, but the Bellatorum were still sought after by the unmated females for sexual partners and breeding studs; the warriors were the most Gifted, and their genes were in high demand.

Among other things.

D nodded a curt greeting.

Encouraged, she smiled at him shyly and walked around the ledge of the pool, gazing down into the bubbling pale green water, sending him an occasional glance as she moved toward him. He saw the curves of her body beneath the flowing robe as she walked and imagined she might be nude beneath it.

Eliana.

His body responded. Naked in the hot water, he grew hard.

Iris stopped beside him. Silent, he looked up at her. She said, “May I join you?” Without waiting for a response, she opened her robe and slid it over her bare shoulders. It billowed into a pool of red silk around her ankles and settled against the wet stone.

Nude, she was more than pretty. She was ripe and perfect as a summer peach.

She crouched and swung her long legs over the side of the pool, and D watched with dark, gnawing need as she arched back and shook her hair from her face. She sat on the edge, leaning on her hands, her feet in the water, flat stomach and full breasts and a little smile as she looked down at him with an eyebrow raised like a cat with all the cream.

D stood abruptly. Water streamed from his naked body, and Iris lost her smile as her gaze traveled over his chest, down his abdomen, even lower…

Her eyes widened. Her mouth formed a startled O.

D grabbed Iris around her slender waist and dragged her into the hot water, holding her pinned against him. She was surprised but didn’t struggle; D knew he’d earned such a deserved reputation for brutality from his battles in and out of the ring that Iris would not be expecting gentleness from him. And maybe that’s what she hoped.

As he pulled her head back with a hand in her hair and lowered his mouth to hers, D idly wondered who’d sent her. Lix? Constantine?

When her tongue touched his, he decided it didn’t matter. He needed this. It had been so long, so long since he’d even touched a woman, and she felt so good. So plush…

Eliana.

He pulled back from Iris’s soft mouth with a muttered oath. She looked up at him, confused. “Bellator?” she murmured hesitantly.

He didn’t bother with an answer. His body was still hard, aching for release, and now wasn’t the time to drown in memories of a lost love or think about his dreams that vividly depicted her in trouble, in pain…but never where. Holding Iris tight against his body, D sat on the submerged rock ledge of the pool and pulled her down with him. He kissed her again, harder than before, desperate to block out everything but this moment.

Hot water swirled around their bodies. Her legs came around his waist. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and D let out a low groan as he felt her press against that throbbing ache between his legs. He needed this…he needed this so badly…

Eliana.

This time his curse was nearly shouted. Iris pulled back, that sweet softness in her face hardening into something else altogether.

“Bellator,” she said in a businesslike tone. “How do I displease you? Tell me and I will change it.”

He wanted to laugh. He didn’t think asking her to change into another woman would go over so well. He brushed a strand of damp hair from her flushed cheek and said, “You don’t displease me, little one. You’re beautiful.” He tried out a smile. It felt strange on his face, alien, like it didn’t belong there. “You know that.”

The softness came back to her face, and she smiled. Her arms wound around his neck, and she began, slowly, to rock her pelvis against his. He felt her heat even in the hot water, and a growl rose in the back of his throat.

“Let me please you, Bellator,” she whispered, leaning close to stroke her tongue along his bottom lip. “Take what you need from me.” Taut nipples brushed his chest, and D lifted his hands to cup her full breasts, pinching those enticing nubs between his fingers. She gasped and tightened her legs around his waist and then kissed him, deep and demanding. His erection grew even bigger, aching for her, for release, for a moment of forgetting, for—

ELIANA!

D shoved Iris away with so much force it sent a wave of water splashing against the rock rim of the thermae behind her. She stood and cursed, sputtering in indignation, wet hair dripping into her face.

He leapt from the pool, grabbed a towel and his clothes, and with a murmured word of apology and shame like cold fingers wrapped around his heart, got the hell away from the alluring Iris and the demons she roused in what was left of his black, ragged soul.

Two days later and almost a thousand miles away, in a secret underground city much like the one in which she’d been born and raised, Eliana spun on the ball of one booted foot, snapped out the opposite leg, and landed a perfect, vicious kick to the jaw of her opponent.

It sent him staggering back across the dusty limestone floor into a sea of bodies crowded together in an irregular circle against the shadowed, graffitied rock walls of New Harmony.

The crowd roared its approval and flung him back toward her.

“Had enough yet, slick?” she murmured as he went down on one knee. Sweating and panting, he looked up at her through a thicket of tangled blond hair and grinned.

“Not even close, Butterfly. I’m just getting warmed up.”

He stood and paused just long enough for her—and all the other women in the crowd—to admire his toned physique: tight muscles in tight jeans and a tight black T-shirt, all of it theatrically showcased by candlelight from hundreds of votives tucked into niches in the rounded walls that spilled a warm, flickering glow over the cavernous room. Golden blond as an angel, he had a dimpled smile to match, warm chocolate eyes, and a laugh that could melt an iceberg.