Lessons in Sin - Pam Godwin Page 0,40

little sneaked past Keaton. He knew how to read people, and if he suspected Magnus was having inappropriate thoughts about me, he was onto something.

It made me feel desirable.

So today, my forty-first day at Sion Academy, I came to class prepared to play dirty.

The door shut behind the last student, leaving Magnus and me and the crackling tension in the air.

“Here.” He pressed a finger to the desk in the front row, indicating I was to move to that spot without question or delay.

I took my time. Stretched my arms. Gathered my books. Rolled my hips. Tried to exude seduction in a fugly, green plaid skirt that hung like a sack and clashed with my complexion. But hey, I had to work with what I had.

When I finally lowered into the chair before him, I returned my finger to my lip, stroking the wet flesh.

His hand slammed down on the desk, making me jump. Then his face moved in. Dark brows, firm lips, unwavering glare. Furious. Terrifying.

Panic spiked, but I leaned forward to meet him head-on, heedless of the warnings emitting from his stiff posture.

I wanted this too badly.

I wanted to go home, and at the same time, I wanted to grab his collar, rip it from his throat, yell at him to fly apart and give me everything he hid from the world. I wanted the man who roared behind those eyes, not the priest who imprisoned him.

“What are you doing?” His voice abraded with unconcealed rage and untold secrets.

“All that sexy talk about economic regression models was getting under my skin. The sounds you make with numbers and formulas raise my temperature and lower my inhibitions.” I slid a hand over my skirt, between my legs, and tried not to blush. “You make me wet, Father Magnus.”

“You’re playing with fire.”

“You’re about as fiery as an iceberg. I think what you mean to say is…” I directed my eyes at his groin. “I’m playing with the South Pole?”

“Not a chance in hell.” He released a chilling laugh, the sound pelting my skin like splinters of ice. “The fact that you think I would stray for you, that I would break my promise to God for an overindulged, ungrateful heathen…” He shook his head, disgust carved in his features. “You’re just like all the others, and here’s a spoiler. None of them succeed. I will not sin for you. I will not violate my vows for you. Never.”

Pain flared in my chest. It consumed. It dragged me under a dark tide.

“Sending me home is sinless,” I said quietly. “Add that to your vows.”

He stepped away, snagged a Bible from the rack, and thunk. It dropped on my lap.

“Pick up where you left off last night.” Acid stained his voice as he stalked to his desk.

The school day was officially over. While the main building emptied of all students and teachers, this was where I remained every single afternoon.

Because I didn’t know when to keep my mouth shut.

He seemed content to endure these daily punishments with me. Sitting in his chair, he’d already plunged into his work on the laptop. This would go on for the rest of the evening. Him, typing away. Me, reading the New Testament out loud.

Except I couldn’t do it again. Not another night. Not another second.

“I don’t hear you reading.” His eyes remained on the laptop.

“I only read this stuff because I don’t have a choice. But you can’t force your faith on me. These are your beliefs, not mine.”

“I still don’t hear you reading.”

Last night, I ended on the Gospel of Mark, but I wouldn’t be picking up there as he wanted. Instead, I opened the Bible to Ezekiel 23:20.

Blanking my face, I read aloud. “There she lusted after her lovers, whose genitals were like those of donkeys and whose emission was like that of horses.”

“Wrong passage.”

“This is your book. Besides, I don’t think this part’s so wrong. Genitals like donkeys? Emissions like horses? Sounds poetic to me. Evocative.” I met his unfriendly eyes. “Why can’t you be more like Ezekiel? He was a dirty little prophet.”

“Turn to the Gospel of Mark.”

“Okay, hang on. This one’s disturbing.” I sensed him rising to his feet and approaching as I quickly flipped to Deuteronomy 22:20. “If, however, the charge is true and no proof of the young woman’s virginity can be found, she shall be brought to the door of her father’s house and there the men of her town shall stone her to death.” I closed