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)
The girl stared at me, her eyes wide, as she lifted an ornament out of the tissue paper it was wrapped in. “This golden triceratops is one hundred dollars?”
I gave her a knowing smile. It was a little ridiculous. I couldn’t wait to see her face when she found the golden shrimp.
“Yes, they were donated by Waterford Crystal. It’s a pretty prestigious brand.”
“It’s a golden triceratops, as a Christmas ornament.”
“Angel,” Father Manwarring said again, trying to get my attention, reaching out and touching my hand.
Waves of warmth and electricity spread from his touch through my skin, making my spine tingle.
I ignored it.
“You know what? Let me help you. There is really a lot in here, and that triceratops isn’t even the weirdest one.”
I walked away from Father Manwarring again, hoping he would just back off. Of course, I could never be that lucky.
The entire day, Father Manwarring would find reasons to be close to me. His hand would touch the small of my back, and if, for whatever reason, my back was to a wall, it would slide lower. Every time he looked at me, I could feel it. Every time he touched me, it felt like my entire body was set alight.
I hated how much power he had over me.
“I would have preferred to talk to you in private,” he came out of nowhere and whispered in my ear. “But if you insist on having this conversation in public, that can be arranged.”
“Go away.”
“Oh, little angel, do you think that you’re free of me now?”
“Aren’t I? You got what you wanted. You had your revenge. So you have no more use for me,” I bit out and walked away, pretending that I couldn’t still feel where his hands had rested on my hips.
At every moment I was painfully aware of where he was. Stolen glances from me were returned with inconspicuous touches whenever he was near me. I hated how much I loved it.
Only twenty minutes later, he cornered me again.
“Are you going to pretend that you don’t miss me? That you don’t lie awake late at night thinking about me while your hands skim over your body, and you wish they were mine?”
I said nothing in response. There was nothing I could say. If I tried to deny it, he would see through the lie, and if I admitted it, then he would have far too much power over me again.
Stiffening my back and willing my body to ignore the way it was pulled to his, I walked away.
“You don’t have to say anything, angel. I can see the way your eyes linger on my body. I can even see the way your breath deepens when I’m around you. Your body craves me. Why deny yourself?”
“I’m only denying your delusion,” I lied. Then I went to greet a string quartet player and show him where he and the others would set up later that night.
When he cornered me again, we weren’t alone. Mrs. Donahue came to check on the progress we had made.
“Oh, this all looks so wonderful,” she gushed to Father Manwarring. “I’m so glad you could make it back in time. We would have been lost without you.”
And here I thought she simply needed me.
I cleared my throat, and I was pretty sure that was the first time she even realized I was there.
“Your mother would be so proud of how you’ve pulled this together,” she said, patting my shoulder like I was a child.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Donahue,” Father Manwarring said, gripping my arm and pulling me away from her. “I need Rose to go run a quick errand.”
I opened my mouth to complain, but he talked right over me.
“Can you go up to the main cathedral? Under the pulpit, there is a storage closet. There are several extra altar candles in there. Can you grab some for me? The silver candlesticks look a little empty, and I think they would be better served with candles in them. Don’t you agree?”
My cheeks flamed with his words. I ducked my head just enough so that my hair curtained my face as I turned to go fetch the candles.
It took me only a few minutes to locate a box of the white taper candles, images of what he and I did in this very room flashing in my mind.
The way he touched me, the way he punished me and how my body so willingly bent to his. He showed me I needed things I didn’t even know to want.
I could say I didn’t want it over and over. I could say he was holding my reputation over my head and that it was coercion at best. It didn’t change a damn thing. Because I wanted it. No matter how much I pretended I didn’t, how much I protested, my body wanted his touch and it wanted to bend to his will. It wasn’t the night he spent licking between my thighs that I thought about late at night. It was the way he spanked me, with his hand, with the belt. The way he put me on my knees and demanded I serve him. Those were the moments I replayed in my mind every night.