Page 134 of The Sinner and the Priest: Part Two

When I turn around, Mercy already sits cross-legged on the pile of enormous cushions I brought in as if it’s just another Tuesday. She unpacks the contents of the picnic basket onto the rug, setting about the plates, glasses, and crockery.

I glance around to make sure everything is in place—gauze curtains and fairy lights hanging from cobweb-free rafters—sorry, spider friend. The new open (weatherproof and soundproof) shutters I installed over the louvers are open wide, letting in the evening breeze. The trunk full of gift boxes sits in the corner where I left it.

It’s the perfect hideaway from home. Cheeks still burning, I crawl to the center of the rug and sit beside her on the cushions. I watch her set out the salad and meats. She says nothing as she pours the wine into glasses.

I can’t take it any longer.

“Mercy,” I growl.

She looks up innocently at me and bats her eyelashes. “Yes, my love?”

“What do you think?”

“About what?”

I gesture around, then grab a glass of wine because I am about to die of waiting. She stops my wrist moments before the glass meets my lips.

Our eyes meet over the rim.

“Babe,” she murmurs, and gently pushes down on my wrist until I lower the glass. “I can’t tell you what I think about it until I know exactly what ‘it’ is.”

I close my eyes. Cazzo, this is difficult.

It all seemed so easy in my head when I came up here and hammered nails into the wooden shutters.

But I am no coward. I take a deep breath, and tug her up to stand with me. I twist her in my arms so that she faces outward and her back is to my front. I hug her around the waist, and then shuffle us toward the louvers looking out at the abbey.

She feels so good in my arms. I had been so afraid in Rome. When she refused to leave my side and stayed with me until the end, I thought for sure we would both be dragged into Hell. I still can’t believe she burned for me, and I need her to know that I would do anything for her too.

A slit of warm sunshine hits our faces, and a balmy breeze wafts through the gaps, bringing the fresh scent of the outdoors. The abbey main building is directly across from us. A few figures can be seen through windows, but I ignore them and point to a particular one at the end.

Her breath hitches. “That’s our room.”

“Remember I told you I watched you once?”

“Yeah . . .” She pauses. “You don’t come up here and perve on everyone, do you?”

“What? No!”

“Just me, then.”

I growl and nip her skin, right over the biggest freckle. “Mercy, that day I watched you was the first day I⁠—”

“Masturbated to me?” She gasps and twists to look at me, grinning from ear to ear. “You liar. You told me you didn’t.”

I drop my face into the crook of her neck and laugh. “Only you, Mercy.”

“Only me, what?”

“Only you can tease me so, mess up my plan, and yet I am thankful for it.”

“You’re welcome. But also . . . sorry.” She covers my hand on her belly. “I know I can be . . . extra.”

My heart squeezes, and I pull back from her.

“Oh no!” She faces me. “Seriously, I didn’t mean to ruin anything. I know you’ve been working on this for a while and⁠—”

I stop her with a finger to the lips. Both our eyes widen at the move, then we release an awkward laugh.