Sweetest Sin: A Forbidden Priest Romance (30 page)

No matter how much
it hurt.

I turned at the
door. Too late.

“Honor.”

His rolling,
righteous voice had the power to fill the entire sanctuary or whisper just for
me to hear. Once, it rumbled in confidence and power. Now it strained in an
anguish he didn’t deserve.

I should have left.

But I was a
sinner. I was tempted.

I was lost.

And it was because
of him.

Father Raphael
waited at the altar, shielded in the cassock that once drew me to his wisdom
and heart. Now I understood the truth. I realized just what that collar meant.

A box rested at his
feet. He’d packed his office.

“You weren’t even
going to say goodbye?” I asked.

“I couldn’t say
good-bye to you.”

I didn’t trust
myself to step closer, but his eyes met mine. Dark. Hardened. Was it my
weakness or his that called to me?

“I shouldn’t have
yelled at you,” I whispered. “I’m not mad. I’m not hurt. You were right about
everything, Father.”

“Honor—”

“You mean too much
to me. I can’t let you go without apologizing for the way I acted. You always
tried to help me. I know you want to save me.”

“You don’t need to
be saved, Honor.”

“Yes, I do. I know
I do. And I’ll repent for those things we did one day…” I wished I hadn’t taken
the breath. It rattled in my chest, weakening me as my eyes blurred with tears.
“I just can’t do it now. I can’t have you leave and then destroy those memories
we had all at the same time. It’s too cruel.”

Father Raphael
clenched his jaw. He looked to the altar, the candles, and finally the crucifix
hanging above. His lips moved in a silent, unfinished prayer, and his hand
trembled before he finished crossing himself.

I shouldn’t have
shivered when he spoke, shouldn’t have let his words wrap over me, center in
me, and crush what fragile bruise of a heart remained.

“You once asked me
why I became a priest.”

I didn’t speak.
His words weren’t meant for me.

“I did it to
hide.”

The truth burned
in the holy silence of the sanctuary. I stared at him, memorizing the angle of
his jaw, the strike of the candlelight in his hair, the pale loveliness of his
skin that contrasted more with my color than the blackness of his robe.

“I became a priest
to heal everyone but myself. I wanted to shed the pain of my past without
confronting it. I didn’t trust my desires, and I could deny them if I were
celibate. I thought that made me…untouchable. Protected from the truth. From
myself.”

He turned, his
expression softened.

“I thought it’d
protect me from you, my angel.”

I’d have held his
gaze forever if it weren’t burning my soul into ash. “Why are you saying these
things?”

“You
healed
me, Honor. You awakened me. You touched me, and that shame, the hatred I
felt…faded.”

“Father?”

“I’ve forgiven
him.” His voice was hard, but it edged only in pity. “My father was a man
destroyed by his own demons…because he didn’t have an angel to guide him.”

If he meant to praise
me, it hurt.

If he meant to
thank me, I wouldn’t accept his gratitude.

If he meant to
break me…

He stepped closer,
but my instincts dulled. I should have pulled away before he took my hand.

Temptation.

Hadn’t we suffered
enough?

“I was wrong,” he
said.

His words heated
through me, whispered in delicate praise and forbidden closeness. He brushed my
cheek. The pleasure ached in me.

“I was using you
to fight the pain in myself,” he said. “I thought you were the key to
conquering my fears, but I was a fool. I was meant to forgive my past. That was
the only way I’d finally have peace. I misled you, Honor. I hurt you. I…lost
you.”

I hated myself for
pressing into his hand. The warmth, the roughness of his fingers struck through
me. It took every strength I possessed not to touch him as well.

So I reached for
his robes.

Twisted my fingers
in the cassock.

Held on to him,
but pushed him away. I fought my every instinct to collapse in his arms.

Father Raphael
stroked me. “You are not a test of my faith. You
renewed
it.”

“Don’t.”

“You aren’t a
challenge for me to overcome. You were the way.”

“We can’t speak
like this.”

“I thought you
were an angel sent to
test
me, Honor.” His words lowered. “I was wrong.
You were sent to save me, and it’s because of you I am healed.”

His lips brushed
mine, but I twisted away before the softness dizzied my head and broke my heart
any more. He leaned down, whispering into my ear, forcing me to listen to this
beautiful torture.

“I wanted to be a
priest for the wrong reasons. You would have me face the world as a man for the
right ones.”

“I don’t
understand.”

“I wrote a letter
to the bishop this afternoon.”

“A letter?”

“A petition for my
laicization.”

My breath caught,
hard against a bubbling hope and wicked joy. He touched my face, and his words
caressed the rest of me in gentle, loving warmth.

“I’m resigning my
position,” he said. “It isn’t fair to the parish. I can’t devote my heart to
the church while belongs to another.”

“But you can’t.” I
trembled in his arms. “This is your calling.”

“I can’t hurt you,
deny you, or live this life apart from you. How can I heal others, how could I
help
others, if I lost the one who saved me? I love you, Honor. I would have you be
mine…if you would take this sinner for your own.”

I breathed his
words.

I prayed.

I silenced my own
hope.

“You would give
this up for me?” I asked.

“I already have. I
did the moment I met you, whether I understood it or not. It was never temptation.
It was never lust. It was never sin.” He pressed his lips to mine, and I
savored a truth that tasted so sweet. “I fell in love with you, and no one, not
God, not the devil, not even my own past can deny me this blessing.”

I held him close.
“Is it a sin to follow our hearts?”

“No, my angel. This
is our absolution.”

Five Months Later

Blessed are the
wedding planners.

A day of dress
fittings, shoe shopping, menu designing, and flower arrangements was a new type
of hell I hadn’t known existed. We had a month until the wedding, but Alyssa
and Samantha worked Mom into a tizzy, changing most of the details while
demanding more decorations, a larger band, a bigger cake…

I only wanted the
chance to stand at the altar with the man I loved and whisper my vows to him,
God, and any who were still shocked by the scandal of it all.

It didn’t matter what
the band played, what dinner we had, or whether we folded the napkins like
roses or doves. As long as I had Rafe, I could stand before the altar naked for
all I cared.

Though…we promised
we wouldn’t do that anymore.

My classes let out
at two, and I raced from the college to the boutique and florists. I met Mom
with the caterer—a lovely woman from the parish—and made it to Rafe’s home at
six.

And beat him there.

The little house
was a perfect starter home for us, but I hadn’t moved in yet. The laicization
process took months, and it was time we played by the rules. No
indiscretions
before marriage.

I hated that it
was the one tenant we decided to honor.

But I had a key to
his house, and I let myself in—carefully. He was still in the process of
renovating. He said he wanted something fit for his
bride
. The church
was involved in enough habitat for humanity ventures that I never doubted his
skill, but…

I traced the
lovely engravings on the cabinet doors. Scripture verses carved in beautiful
calligraphy.

He put so much of
himself into our home. Entirely too much.

After resigning
from the clergy, he took the position as executive director for St. Cecilia’s
struggling school system. It took most of his time and energy, but in just a
few months the budget was balanced, attendance had risen, and the kids seemed happier.

And so did he,
especially when he saw the difference in the lives of so many children, ones
the same age he was when that darkness seized him. He loved knowing he could
help those in the parish, even if he wasn’t wearing the collar.

The keys scraped
his lock, and the little metallic twist thrilled me. I hopped onto the counter
and waited to welcome my husband-to-be to our future home.

I bit my lip as he
entered. He’d traded his cassock for a classy black suit and looked no less
intimidating. He grinned as he saw me, though his smiled faded as he stared at
my legs, crossing and squirming under his inspection.

“Hey,” I said.

I still trembled
for him, especially when he gave me that hungry look. He stood still and uncompromising
in his suit. Broad shoulders. Thick chest. I remembered what hardened under it.

Still imagined it.

The wedding
couldn’t come soon enough.

He had spoken, but
I missed it all.

“I’m sorry, what
did you say?” I asked.

His eyebrow
arched. Rafe approached the counter, his steps deliberate and heavy.

“I wondered if you
had waited long?” The teasing edge to his words might have sliced through the
pretty dress I wore…picked specifically because I knew we’d see each other
tonight. “I guess so, or my angel wouldn’t be so distracted.”

He drifted too
close, his hand tickling over my arms, down my hands, to the lovely diamond
ring he’d placed on my finger just a few months before.

“Long day,” I
whispered. “Classes and getting everything ready for the wedding.”

“
Right
.”

His kiss teased a
mew from my lips. It was a mistake to touch him, but my fingers drifted within
his suit coat, stroking the hard muscle that strained against his dress shirt.
He liked that, and a low growl rumbled from his throat.

“Careful, my angel.”
His warning was just another tease, an invisible stroke against my cheek, my
chest. Lower. “We still have another month until our wedding.”

I swallowed, hard.
“I know. It’s just…”

“Are you tempted?”
He leaned close, his lips pressing my temple. “What are you thinking?”

He did it on
purpose, these little games. But I felt the hardness stiffen against me. We
teased each other for the past five months. Look, but no touching. A kiss
goodnight pressed against the wall, but nothing more. He burned me from the
inside out, but I knew how to scorch him.

“None of my
thoughts are pure, Rafe.”

“Can you resist
them?” His hands tickled over my side, gripping my hips in the way I remembered.
“Can you deny these feelings?”

“I must.”

He hummed, low.
“I’d hate to think that my bride-to-be is suffering such…torment.”

The thought slayed
me. I kissed him, flicking my tongue over his just how he liked it.

I murmured over
his lips. “I can wait another month.”

“I can’t.”

I squealed as he
lifted me from the counter. He swung me into his arms and carried me from the
kitchen to drop me onto his bed.

He groaned as his
lips kissed a path over my neck and lower. I tried to hide my smile.

“But it’s wrong…”
I grasped his arms, his hair, and arched into his bite. “We aren’t married yet.
We can’t give into this temptation.”

“I’d surrender to
these sweet sins.” His kiss drifted lower. “There is not a force in this world
or the next that’s holier than my love for you, Honor.”

He pulled my
clothes off, and his touch, kiss, and worship cast me over the edge too many
times in too many ways. I shuddered for him, calling his name and begging for
the sweet mercy of his body within mine.

We joined, moved,
breathed as one.

Pure.

Unified.

Together.

No temptation, no
sin, would ever destroy what we surrendered in love.

The
End

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