Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
My face grows hot. “No. He wants to marry me.”
Rune looks like I’ve just told him the devil has kicked God out of heaven and started running the show. “Farrah, you can’t. The things he says.” His barrel chest is puffing up and down. “The things he wants to do to you…”
I try not to let it show how disturbed I am that Mr. Tandy feels strongly enough about me to make confession. Or that his confessions are bad enough to make Rune look sick to his stomach. “You must hear a lot of good stuff in that confessional booth,” I tease, my voice wavering slightly.
He closes his eyes, nostrils flaring. “You won’t marry him, Farrah.”
“Maybe I’ll follow in your holy footsteps and join the nunnery.”
Rune is still visibly not over the Mr. Tandy situation, but he’s trying to follow my lead into a new subject. “Do you think you’d be inclined to live a life dedicated to the church?”
“I don’t know,” I say shrugging. Looking off into the distance where town is outlined in the purple evening sky. “Up until today, I could have taken or left men. Though I suppose becoming a nun is about a lot more than…celibacy.”
A handful of moments pass. “Up until today, you could have taken or left men. What does that mean?”
“I don’t normally…”
“What?” he breathes, seemingly against his will, his mouth so close to my forehead that his words stir my hair.
Maybe it’s the darkness surrounding us now. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s a man of the cloth who receives confession for a living. But something makes me tell the truth. “For instance…I’ve never wondered before today what it would feel like to have a man rut me on the ground.”
The words are barely out of my mouth before Rune grips the meat of my arms, backing me into the darkness, the stone pillar of the gate blocking us from view of the church. “Just like that, then?” His mouth rubs side to side against mine, his breath coming in quick, harsh pants. “The temptation has begun?”
I moan at the texture of his mouth, my body encapsulated by fever—
“Father McDaniel? Miss Farrah?” The monsignor calls from the church courtyard.
We break apart, Rune pacing away to scrub frustrated hands down his face. “We’re coming in now, Monsignor,” he calls in a booming voice. “Farrah had a little trouble finding the entrance.”
We each take another beat to calm ourselves as much as possible, then Rune takes my elbow, picking up my sack that he must have dropped at some point, leading me toward the cathedral and the rectory beyond.
Where I will tempt him to betray his vows.
I thought I could hold back. Tempt him, yes, but not allow him to cross into the point of no return. After only a few minutes with him, though…
Now I’m not so sure I’m in control of this attraction.
Or the outcome of this trial.
Chapter Five
Rune
I’m still vibrating like a tuning fork as Farrah, and I follow the monsignor down the hushed hallway at the rear of the cathedral. The one that leads to the rectory and the elder clergy’s offices. I’m highly aware that we’re the only ones here. That I’m about to undergo the trial of a lifetime, right on the heels of what Farrah said to me.
For instance, I’ve never wondered before today what it would feel like to have a man rut me on the ground.
Those words will forever be as familiar to me as the Bible, I fear.
As will the fact that she lives in a shelter.
That there is a vile man who wishes to marry her.
Once she leaves here, what power will I have to stop those things? My muscles tighten to the point of creaking at the very thought of her near that violent bastard, let alone standing before him at an altar. Promising to love and cherish him.
Fire has exploded to life inside of me.
Possessiveness. Protectiveness.
And those are two very bad emotions to be experiencing when tonight will be about withstanding her. Not giving in to the ripe fruit of her body. Overcoming the lust that she and only she has ever plagued me with.
“In here, please,” says the monsignor, gesturing for us to enter his office, which is lit only by the fire crackling in the hearth. He’s very stoic. Curt. All business, as usual, and I have no clue how he can be so calm when we’re about to embark on something so unorthodox. “Father McDaniel, have a seat by the fire,” instructs Monsignor Hannibal—and I do as he asks, but in no way do I relax. “Farrah, there is a robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door, just there,” he says, gesturing to the small powder room on the opposite end of the office. “Would you go put it on, please, so that we may begin?”