Lessons in Sin - Pam Godwin Page 0,12

their rooms. But given the single small bag on the floor, she’d only brought the necessities.

“Is that your only luggage?” I asked.

“Apparently.” She didn’t move a muscle to step into the room as if doing so would seal her fate.

That ship had already sailed.

“The student handbook is on the desk. Read it before you go to sleep. In it you’ll find campus maps and basic info like the dress code.” From my position in the hall, I spotted her bedding and uniforms in the closet. “Mass begins at eight a.m. Be downstairs at seven forty-five sharp. You’ll see where the girls are gathering to be escorted to the church.”

She stared at the room, her gaze unfocused, unblinking. Shell-shocked.

Then she pulled in a breath and looked at me. “I’m sorry for being disrespectful.”

I stared back, waiting for the catch.

“May I have my phone, please?” She fluttered her lashes.

“No.” I flicked a finger, waving her into the room. “See that door? I want you on the other side of it until morning.”

Her jaw set, her posture stiffening for a fight.

“That means now.” I used a caustic tone, one that had been known to clear out a boardroom in under three seconds.

It had the same effect with Tinsley, her entire body springing into action before I roared the last syllable.

Gasping, she backed into the room with jerky steps and bumped into the desk. Visible tremors ran along her limbs. Her chin quivered, and she held herself tightly, an arm clutched around her midsection.

But she didn’t crumple. Didn’t sink to the floor like the others. Not this girl. She stood taller, slowly lowered her arm, and squared her shoulders.

The heave of her chest pulled her shirt taut, stretching the material across smallish breasts, pert little bumps, just enough tender flesh to crush between a finger and thumb.

I tore my gaze away and stared down at my hand, at my fingers rubbing against my thumb. Mimicking. Envisioning. Wanting that which I could not have. Like an addict in withdrawal.

My hands went into my pockets. My breathing remained steady. The muscles in my face never twitched. But beneath the facade, my sickness raged in a furnace of fire.

It wanted fear and pain, blood and welts, bruising, biting, choking, pounding, pounding, pounding…raw, feral, ruthless fucking.

I craved it.

Her fear scented the air, her breaths faltering and her pretty little elven face bereft of color. But she was strong. Resilient. She could bear it.

She would take it so beautifully.

Time to go.

I pulled the door closed, shutting her away before she saw my true form. Then I got the hell out of there.

CHAPTER 6

MAGNUS

Shoving past the main doors, I burst outside at a clipped pace. The darkness wrapped around me as I hooked a finger beneath my collar and tugged it away from my throat, pulling, yanking, trying to breathe.

What the hell had just happened?

I let a student get under my skin.

That was a first, but I had it under control. It’d taken me by surprise was all. No harm, no foul. Tinsley was oblivious, and I hadn’t crossed any lines.

My only interest in her was on a nonphysical, nonsexual, academic level.

It wouldn’t happen again.

I just needed to walk off the buzz circulating through my body.

“Hi, Father Magnus!”

A group of senior girls approached from the left, heading toward the building. I turned right without responding, and they went on their way, accustomed to my surly temperament.

I took the long way to the campus gates, trekking around the backside of the main building. As I passed beneath the turret connected to my classroom, I searched the ground for a dead bat. The light from my phone aided my hunt, an effort that proved pointless.

Just as I’d suspected, the bat had flown off.

My mind gravitated to images of fearful blue eyes, pale skin, and trembling hands, curled like claws ready to draw blood.

I shoved it down and focused on tomorrow’s agenda—church, curriculum planning, and Tinsley’s placement tests.

Gravel crunched beneath my shoes, and the nighttime air cooled my skin. Clean, fresh, pure mountain air. So unlike the stench of octane and concrete in New York City. I missed the city, but I loved the tranquility here.

Veering off the path, I crossed the manicured lawn and followed the wall that bordered the campus. Constructed of stone to shoulder height, the wall didn’t restrict the visibility of the village or the picturesque mountainscape beyond. Instead, it provided a sturdy foundation for the high-security fence that was erected on top of it. From a distance, the