Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
When I walked to the doorway of the conservatory, my heart stopped, as did all my plans to never see this man, the one man who haunted my dreams and dominated my waking thoughts, ever again.
“Don’t just stand there like some simpleminded servant. Get in here so I can introduce you to the new priest at our church.” Mother rolled her eyes and then looked back at the stranger—my stranger. “Father Manwarring, do you remember my daughter Rose?”
Manwarring.
Like Olivia, and Charlotte, and now my sister, he was a Manwarring. And the newest priest at our church. Worse, my mother had chosen God as her charity for the season. She was to donate her time to help the church with the winter program.
There was no escaping him. He was going to be everywhere.
CHAPTER 10
ROSE
Imust have opened and closed my mouth at least a dozen times before my mother hissed at me again to get in there and behave like the lady that she raised. There was no way I would not hear about this later. I knew my momentary hesitation would lead to her screaming at me for being less than perfect.
Not wanting it to get any worse, I did as she said, with a polite smile painted on my face.
It looked like she and Father Manwarring had already had tea in the conservatory’s sitting area and had moved to the table where Mother had her calendar spread out, along with random finger sandwiches I would get scolded for if I tried to sample.
I attempted to sit next to Mother, but she immediately clicked her fingers in annoyance and pointed to the seat next to Father Manwarring.
Father Manwarring. I tested the name in my head. Father Manwarring.
There was simply no way I would ever get used to that. Not only was the man who touched me, who made me feel so sinful as he led me into temptation a priest, but also Luc’s brother. And even worse, that made him a Manwarring.
I adored Charlotte and Olivia. Luc was growing on me, and I even really liked Manwarring senior’s new bride, Stella. Of course, it helped that she and I were practically the same age.
Still, I liked the Manwarrings. But that didn’t mean they weren’t… different.
Rumors flew about every single family, most of them having only a kernel of truth. The rumors about that family, though, just kept proving to be more and more true, like the whispers that in the boardroom and the polo field, they were violent warriors through and through. Those were almost whispered in awe, but then there were darker whisperings, tales of kidnapping, insider trading, and serious ties to the Irish mafia.
I had never spent too much time listening to rumors, but the way the Manwarrings held themselves was a little different. They always stood separately from everyone else, and there was always something about them just under the surface, a controlled rage that seemed just a little barbaric. Like if the situation called for it, they could rip someone to shreds without a second thought.
Even the idea that a Manwarring could be a priest seemed ridiculous. Then again, so did the idea of a priest using his fingers to make me come. So maybe there was something about this that made sense.
The more I thought about it, the more I considered the man next to me— while staring at the wall, of course— the more I saw the connection. The way his muscles contracted in the dim light the other night, there was something predatory about it. It reminded me of a large jungle cat waiting for the opportunity to pounce. The way the colors danced in his eyes seemed a little… savage when he held my pleasure at bay, keeping me on the precipice of bliss.
Maybe he was a monster in priest’s clothing. The Manwarring savagery waiting to come out and play. Why did that excite me so much?
I banished those thoughts from my head as I took the seat my mother pointed to while she studied her daybook for God only knew what.
“How are you this afternoon, Rose? Everything… blooming, I hope,” Father Manwarring said. That same sadistic smile turning up the corners of his lips. I hated how that smile provoked butterflies into taking flight in my stomach.
People have used that pun my entire life, and I have learned to ignore the cheesiness of it, but the way he said it sounded… different. Like there was another, underlying meaning. I hated how easily I blushed at it. It didn’t use to be like this, but all it took was one look from him and I could feel my face and neck heating. I just knew I was a bright red.
“Be polite,” my mother warned, still not looking up.
She wasn’t talking to him.
“Yes.” I gave a nervous laugh, avoiding his eyes by staring at the ceiling, the crown molding, the vintage tablecloth my mother claimed was picked by Jackie O, a dear friend of her mother’s—anywhere but at him. “Did you just come back to New York? I don’t remember seeing you at… any of the weddings.”