The Pastor’s Jezebel Lover (2 page)

Unlike Sunday mornings during Mass, he was now simply clad in black jeans and a woolly jumper of indefinable color. And in spite of the sweater she wore herself, she experienced a shiver of excitement at their proximity.

Silence reigned, now that the church was empty, and they truly were all alone save perhaps for the Lord himself looking down on two mortals gathered in His house.

“Yes?” encouraged Ramon. It hadn’t escaped his attention that Eileen had been staring at him for the past minute or so, her mouth opening and closing with the intention to speak but no sound being produced.

Something tightened in his stomach, and he recognized the emotion without difficulty. Eileen was a very attractive woman, a fact of which more than one choir member had complained. Oh, they hadn’t voiced it in those terms, of course. They’d merely mentioned the fact she’d been fired from Saint-Luke’s Hospital for engaging in a torrid and most disgraceful affair with a married doctor, and that the way she dressed was a disgrace to the church and every God-fearing parishioner.

He’d felt compelled to issue a reprimand when last rehearsal her blouse had come undone, and her ample breasts had very briefly been on display.

It was more than the prudish women had been able to bear, and even though he’d felt his own pulse quicken at the sight of her flesh, he’d reminded her of the dress code for choir members.

It had pained him to see the hurt in her eyes when he’d taken her aside, but ten piercing pairs of eyes had compelled him, and though he’d wanted to apologize once he caught her alone, she’d escaped so quickly after the rehearsal, he’d never had the opportunity.

Well, he had the opportunity now, and he would take it.

“I… feel I owe you an apology about last week,” he began. “The things I said about your… wardrobe? I was totally out of line.”

“Oh, no,” she countered. “You were quite right. I should never have worn that outfit to choir practice. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

He shifted on the desk, his eyes dipping to the front of her sweater, the recollection of her bosom sending a sudden ripple of heat through his frame. She was lovely. Simply lovely. With her long auburn hair, worn loosely around her slender shoulders, her finely etched features, those expressive brown eyes and full rosy lips, she was everything he sought for in a woman.

“I… felt compelled to make those remarks, you see,” he continued. “Some members of the choir thought it inappropriate, though personally I didn’t really take offense.”

“You didn’t?”

He smiled. “None at all, Miss Stoker.”

She regarded him thoughtfully. “Then why did you speak to me in those harsh tones, Father Ramon? I was quite upset.”

He bowed his head. “I’m truly sorry. You see, it is my task as the head of this parish to…” He thought carefully about his next words, especially since he detected in her demeanor anger and disappointment. “… to find a way for us all to coexist. To live in relative harmony.”

“They hate me, you know,” she suddenly interjected, her voice dropping an octave. He was surprised by the vehemence with which she had spoken. It struck a chord with him. She was an outcast in this small community. A real-life Mary Magdalene, he decided.

“I see. Do you want to talk about it?”

She started to shake her head, then reconsidered. Looking up, he saw that her eyes were filled with tears. The sight hit him like a fist to the gut, and he slid from the desk and was by her side in a heartbeat. Clasping her to him and pressing her head to his shoulder felt so natural the implications of his rash act didn’t even occur to him. And it was only when he felt her quake against him, her body wracked with sobs, that he understood he’d crossed a line, his heart swept up in the moment.

“It’s all right,” he murmured against her ear, and the sound of the words did much to soothe the deep ache that quelled her.

In spite of herself, she believed him. Perhaps it was the fact that he was a man of God, or that he held her like no man had ever held her before, but the deep ache that had lurked inside like a coil waiting for the spring, finally gave way to a dull pain and then to a deep calm. It was his caress. His hand stroking her hair and whispering words of comfort in her ear.

She stiffened when she realized what she’d allowed to happen. He was a man of God, not her lover, and yet here they stood in a position only a man and a woman deeply in love would stand.

She started to move back, to escape from the warmth of his embrace, however much it pained her to leave the safety of his arms.

“I’m sorry, father,” she breathed as she retreated from the circle of his arms, from the warmth of his body so close to hers, the firmness and the comfort. “I don’t know what came over me. I-I-I should never…”

He felt a pang of sorrow when she broke the spell. He’d felt something of the comfort she was experiencing rub off on him, and the warmth of another human body close to his seemed to melt something deep inside him, something hard and unyielding, and when she pulled away, it felt like a physical reprimand to his inadequacy to comfort and be comforted by her, this woman who’d stepped into his life out of nowhere…

He held up his hands in a gesture of reassurance. “It’s fine. I won’t hurt you or take advantage of you.”

She looked embarrassed, deeply so, and he felt regret for springing himself on her like this. Perhaps he shouldn’t have held her. Perhaps he should merely have placed a hand on her shoulder.

As it was, he couldn’t take back what had happened, nor did he want to. If anything, he wanted more of it. More of… her.

Inadvertently, his gaze dropped to her chest, to the breasts that lay beneath her sweater. He’d heard the stories about her. How she’d supposedly seduced a doctor at Saint-Luke’s, a married man to boot, with the allure of her outrageous breasts. How she displayed those God-given assets and used them to seduce men and tear them away from the bosom of their families.

He hadn’t believed a word of those rumors. Not after he’d met her in the flesh. Eileen simply wasn’t that woman. She did have a gorgeous body, that much was true. Her large chest tapered off to a thin waist and seductive hips, long shapely legs completing the picture of perfection.

Then he reminded himself this wasn’t the way to comfort a lost soul, and he pulled himself together.

“Eileen—may I call you Eileen? We all need a shoulder to cry on from time to time, and I merely offered mine today because I felt your need. It’s as simple as that.”

She nodded, wiping at her eyes, and laughed. “I actually came in here to tell you I’m quitting the choir, but now I’m having second thoughts.”

His brows rose questioningly. He had a very expressive face, Eileen thought, and an easy smile. And when he did smile, his eyes lit up. Contrary to what she thought, Father Ramon was not such a bad man after all. Though he should stand up to those harridans on the choir, and not let them bully him into subjecting younger, prettier women to fire and brimstone speeches about the inappropriateness of their dress.

She meant to tell him as much, but then he smiled again, and she lost her train of thought.

“And why would you quit? You just started to sing, and such a lovely voice you have too.”

“You think so?”

“Of course. We need fresh blood in the choir. You may have noticed the average age of the participants is alarmingly high. Pretty soon, we won’t have a choir left.”

“Those old ladies will survive anyone,” she opined. “You and I included.”

He laughed, and she loved the sound of it. It did much to dispel the embarrassment she was still feeling about their close embrace and her breaking down in his arms just now. “You know?” she suddenly blurted out. “You’re not as bad as I thought, Father Ramon.”

His brows knitted at this, and she grinned when she saw how she’d made an impression on him. He snapped his fingers. “It’s the speech I gave you last week, isn’t it?”

“That, and the fact that you never seem to smile during rehearsals. Today especially, you seemed so far away that I thought…” Her voice trailed off when his face took on an expression of upset, his eyes growing dark and desperate once again. She slung a hand before her mouth. “I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have said that.”

He reached out and took her hand in his, then, seeming to regret this, released it again. “Stop apologizing, Eileen. Nothing you say could ever be wrong. You say what you mean, and it’s quite refreshing, to be honest.”

“People always say I should think before I speak,” she agreed. “Usually they’re not too nice about it either.”

“I shouldn’t worry too much about what other people think, Eileen,” he said softly. “From where I’m standing? You’re probably better off without them or their approval anyway.”

They stared at each other for a beat, a mutual understanding creating a bond that hadn’t been there before but now miraculously linked them in ways they couldn’t yet comprehend.

“We’re two of a kind, you and me,” Ramon continued, trying to put into words a consideration that had just occurred to him. “Perhaps we should…” He wanted to say they should get to know each other a little better, but was afraid to scare her off with this direct approach. “… continue this conversation over dinner sometime.”

Her lips quirked up into a smile. “Are you asking me out on a date, Father Ramon?”

“I…” Then he thought the hell with it, and decided to speak his mind. He inclined his head, holding out his hand. “Yes. Yes, I am. Eileen Stoker, would you like to go out on a date with me?”

“I didn’t even know priests dated,” she murmured, taking his hand and enjoying the feel of his flexible, strong fingers enveloping hers. She knew this was probably a sin and she would burn for it in hell, or at least in the dark corners of town, where the gossipmongers lived and plied their vicious trade, but she wanted so much to get to know this interesting man a little better, that before her common sense could intervene, she said, “Yes, why not? Perhaps you could give me some pointers on vocal technique.”

“I would be delighted to,” he replied, swinging their hands gently between them, to emphasize the innocence of their newly formed bond.

“Mrs Cooper keeps telling me how horrible my voice is, so I reckon I need all the help I can get.”

“Fuck Mrs Cooper and the horse she rode in on,” he suddenly growled, and when Eileen laughed merrily, he thought he’d never heard a lovelier sound.

“Erin! Erin, come down here right away!”

The girl rolled her eyes at the inopportune intrusion, and heaved an exasperated groan. “What now?” she groaned, and dropped the homework she’d been making. For once in her life, could Mom just simply let her be?

She stormed out of her room, and yelled, “I’m busy!”

As if stung, her mother appeared at the foot of the stairs, fury in her eyes. “If you don’t come downstairs right this second, I’m coming up there and I’m dragging you down. Is that understood?”

Instead of rolling her eyes again, Erin meekly said, “I’m coming.”

When Mom was in this kind of mood, she better behave and not talk back, she knew, or else she was liable to give her a good whooping.

So she descended the stairs, reluctantly, and feared the worst. What did she do now? she wondered. She couldn’t even begin to imagine.

Arriving downstairs, Mom stood awaiting her with her fists planted on her hips, eyes shooting fire.

“Father Ramon was here just now. What’s all this about you throwing rocks through the church windows?”

Erin’s frown now matched her mom’s. “Huh? What church windows? I didn’t do nothing of the kind.”

Mom directed a pointed look at the ceiling. “Erin MacKenzie. You and your little friend were spotted by one of the women coming out of the church. You were throwing rocks at the church windows until you hit one and it broke.”

“Mom, I really didn’t—”

Mom took her by the elbow and shook her, going for berserk now. “He brought me a piece of window, Erin. One of them colored ones? Said they’re extremely expensive and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna pay for them either.”

She stabbed her in the chest with a bony finger. “You’re going over there right now to apologize, and you better pray he’s in a better mood than he was just now. And you’re going to tell him you’ll pay for those windows you destroyed. To the last cent and then some, you hear?”

“But, Mom!”

Mom raised her hand as if to give her a good smack in the face and Erin cringed. “Not one more word out of you! And you better get a move on. You don’t want to keep the father waiting.”

Erin slumped, realizing there was no way to get out of this predicament. “What about Suzie?”

Her mom helped her into her jacket with angry jerks, shoving her arms in the sleeves then jerking up her collar and tying her scarf so tightly around her neck she seemed to be of a mind to strangle her with it. “What about Suzie?”

“Will she be there as well?”

“She better be there. Father Ramon came from the Parsleys before he stopped off here.” She shook her head. “Erin, Erin. Why do you always have to go and get into trouble, huh? Can you tell me that?”

Erin merely shrugged morosely. Going out in this freezing cold, and that to apologize to that stupid priest when she could be inside where it was warm and dry? She hated that foul man, she really did. Why couldn’t he pick on someone his own size?

“We were just playing, Mom, We didn’t mean to— Ouch!”

Her mom had suddenly jerked her around by the arm and shook her vehemently. “And always lying about it, too! That’s the worst of it!”

“I wasn’t lying!” she said, trying to free her arm from Mom’s vise-like grip.

“You’re lying right now!”

“It was just a game. We never thought that rock would reach so high!”

“Who destroyed that window, you or Suzie Parsley? Tell me the truth now.”

Erin, now close to tears, quietly replied, “We both did. We threw on three, and when the window broke, we ran away. We didn’t think no one saw us either.”

Mom relented, and let go of her arm. “Well, one of those nosy old women did, as they do everything that goes on around here.”