The Gladiator's Prize

On a day that Rowan had nowhere to go, he found Eleanor in the tea room with a book in her hand. She wore a simple white dress and was draped over the couch as if she were posing for a painting. Her dark curls fell behind her and he faltered for a moment. She really was the picture of beauty. Fair skin, rosy cheeks, a soft look. Unlike him, dressed in simple khakis, with a tunic tucked into them. He wanted more of her. More than she could possibly be willing to give. Rowan knew Eleanor felt something that night, but he was sure that it was a spur-of-the-moment feeling. Eleanor had never been with a man before, and she was now living with one. She was innocent in that aspect. She knew nothing of the world of pleasure. Rowan had been with many women in the past, but he never wanted them like he wanted Eleanor. He strived for something more than physical. He wanted to know what it felt like to feel her soft body on his. He wanted her to want him. Need him. More than someone who answered her questions or did things for her. There was a heavy sense of shame that came with these feelings. Eleanor Louis was nothing more than a mission to him and he was jeopardizing everything because his stomach fluttered every time she was near. He could not have her. She would not have him. He needed to get that. * He hated the noble. Nobility was all she knew. He wanted to bring them to their knees. She wanted to escape from under them. Marriage was approaching quickly from the horizon, could they find a common ground before then?