Page 53 of Conquer the Highlander

“Are their husbands here?”

“Probably not.”

That was as far as Esme’s questions went and Isadora was grateful. She’d spent enough time around the woman to realize she was fond of Titus, and she didn’t want to tell her the truth – that all of those women were there because of Titus. They were hoping to spend time with him after his bout, licking the sweat from his body or doing any number of things to him.

That’s what Titus was known for.

Isadora caught a look from Lilia, who shook her head faintly as if thankful Esme wasn’t pushing the point of the women throwing money onto the field. Sometimes, Titus actually went to those in the front row and kissed a hand or two, or turned around so they could see his impossibly muscular buttocks, which he would happily flex for them.

On a night like this, he was virtually nude but for the chainmail briefs around his pelvis. The rest of him – that magnificent chest and those powerful arms – were glistening with sweat in the warmth of the evening.

And every woman in the front row was filled with lust.

Thankfully, Esme was oblivious. Her gaze was on Titus as he remained on the opposite side of the arena floor, away from the women who were trying so desperately to get his attention. He was fussing with his gloves again, but once those were finally secure, he lifted a hand to the crowd and their screams resumed in earnest.

But he was looking in Esme’s direction.

At least, she thought he was. She stood up on her seat and waved an arm at him and, far down below, he waved back. It was brief, and that was enough. He acknowledged her and Esme was fairly aglow.

Then, the match started.

The crowd had decided that it was much better to stand while Titus was fighting, so everyone was on their feet. Esme couldn’t really see anything unless she stood on her seat, so she stood on the stone bench and watched Titus stalk a man who was taller and broader than he was.

It was like watching a cat toy with a mouse.

The Celtic Storm didn’t stop smiling through the entire match. He watched Titus as the man stalked him and, soon enough, he was yelling at him, daring him to charge him. Titus grinned and waved at him. For a while, it almost seemed like two friends toying with each other. They were laughing at one another, challenging one another, until The Celtic Storm got tired of waiting and rushed Titus, swinging his gladius in a fairly precise manner.

But Titus was fast. He darted out of the way at the last moment, causing The Celtic Storm to lose his balance with his momentum. Titus came up behind him with the intention of using a finishing move, but The Celtic Storm whirled on him. Titus was forced to bring up his shield, the only weapon he used in most of his bouts, to block a strike from The Celtic Storm.

But he had some of his own momentum going and he managed to spin out of the way of another strike, coming up behind The Celtic Storm once again. His strategy was clear – to get in behind the man so he couldn’t take a full swing at him, but The Celtic Storm seemed to know that. He managed to reach around and grab hold of Titus’ shield, yanking on it, and Titus was abruptly in front of him.

But it would do The Celtic Storm no good. Titus still had hold of his shield and he used it like a battering ram, throwing his weight into it and knocking The Celtic Storm backwards and onto the ground. Or, at least down to one knee. As The Celtic Storm tried to rise, Titus went airborne and kicked The Celtic Storm in the side of the head.

He went out as quickly as if someone had blown out a candle.

And with that, the match was over.

The crowd went mad, screaming Titus’ name. Money rained down and servants dashed out onto the field again, collecting every little coin as Titus lifted his hands to the crowd.

The roar was deafening.

“Come on!” Lilia said. “It is finished for tonight. Let us leave before this crowd disbands.”

She and Isadora were already on their feet, running up the steps that led to the exits, but Esme was slower. She was moving, but her gaze was on Titus down on the arena floor.

She couldn’t seem to move away from the sight.

After he acknowledged the crowd and even looked in her direction, or so she thought, he bent over The Celtic Storm, who was starting to stir. A couple of trainers had come out onto the arena floor and were helping the big redhead come around as Titus put his hand on the man’s head, seemingly trying to bring him around as well.

Lilia and Isadora were up at the top of the steps, beckoning Esme to hurry, and she began to move faster when she saw Titus help his dazed opponent to his feet.

She thought that was a sweet gesture.

The crowds were moving swiftly to cash in on their bets and Esme was caught up in the flow, but she found Lilia and Isadora at the top of the arena.

“Where do the men go when they come off the arena floor?” she asked.

Lilia pointed towards the north. “There is an area next tae the arena,” she said. “They call it the staging area.”