Love of the Gladiator (Affairs of the Arena Book 2) by Lydia Pax Page A

I?”
    “No woman has ever fought well in the arena. It just hasn’t happened. It’s not going to. It’s not done , little flame.”
    “And who’s been teaching these women? Men like you?”
    “I expect so.”
    They both were standing now, nose to nose. She could taste the breath from his lips.
    “Men like you who write them off before they even step foot in the sands? Who don’t give them a fair shake in training? And you’re saying they don’t come out fighting well? Mystery of mysteries, Lucius.”
    “It’s not like that.” He shook his head. “You don’t understand. A woman can’t understand the finer aspects of training. It takes bloodlust. It takes balls .” He made a gripping motion with his hand.
    “I’ve got more balls than half the men here.” She banged the table. “Train me like you train a man. I’m tired of you holding back. We can see what the others do in training. You understand we have eyes, don’t you? We see what they practice. We want the same.”
    Their lips were just inches apart. The closeness was agonizing.
    “And besides all that?” Lucius did not seem to be hearing her. “Besides all that, you’ve got to work with armor and weapons. Half of the girls out there can barely hold up their sword after the first hour. They’ll be cut down like flies. A woman just isn’t strong enough. Hell, the armor alone is half your weight, I bet, and—”
    She punched him. Startled, Lucius shuffled a bit and then fell. He landed sitting down on the bench. Blood dripped down from his nose.
    “Is that strong enough for you?
    “Anybody can sucker punch someone when they’re not ready.” He held his nose and his voice was a bit nasally.
    “I’m going to punch you in three seconds, then. Are you ready, gladiator? That should be plenty of time, even for you.”
    It was evident he did not believe her. And so, she punched him again, this time in the forehead. Lucius wavered on the bench, shaking his head.
    “Gods, you’ve got a temper.”
    “Blood lust, some call it.”
    Lucius laughed, but his face was grim.
    For a moment, she thought she would kiss him. Or he would kiss her. And she could tell, looking at his face, that he had been thinking the same thing. If only he hadn't been so stupid, if only he hadn't been so bullheaded and wrong...
    “Armor can be made proportionally,” said Gwenn. “Muscles grow by the day. Any woman out there would fight to defend her life, just like any person would. And I can beat anyone in that arena if you show me how. Train me.”
    She held out a hand to help him up. Instead, he touched his nose and frowned at the blood there.
    “I think you should get out of here,” he said, standing up without her hand, “before I tell the guards what you’ve done.”
    Hopeless, she thought. A completely hopeless man.

Chapter 20
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    I t took Lucius a few moments, but he realized he recognized the name Leonidas.
    Leonidas the murmillo.
    It eluded him until after Gwenn left the mess hall, until he left as well and returned to his cot to rest.
    Her presence made memory difficult. There was so much pain in his memories, so much struggle, and it was easier in her presence to simply focus entirely on the moment. The wisps of hair that refused to stay out of her eyes. The curve of her lips, ever upward, even when she clearly felt rage.
    Little flame. Smiling flame.
    Punching him had felt like foreplay for some reason. Thoughts of holding her body tight to his, kissing her madly, crossed his mind even after she had punched him.
    They may have had a difference in philosophy, but what he wanted—what he noticed more than anything—was the passion she brought to her every endeavor.
    Her fervor was nigh-irresistible. Thoughts rose up in him of giving in to what she wanted. It would be easy to give in to her desire. And gods, did she ever have desire.
    His heart raced with the simple conclusion of all her clear beauty and all that open, bold