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CHAPTER1
BJORNSSON
“You’re a priest?”shouts the girl when I enter the small antechamber where my staff has placed Kane Santino’s gift. I stop short when I see her. Jet black hair, honey complexion, eyes as dark as my soul. Her sneaker-clad feet dangle in front of her. Idly, I speculate on her age. Old enough to know better, but too young to be here, I conclude. I rein in my galloping imagination and reply, “Is there a problem?”
“No priest I know would tie a girl to a chair.” She jerks against the bonds.
I drag a finger along my white collar. If she knew, she’d probably scream in anger. She has all the hallmarks of a good girl, which means she’s off limits to someone like me. I place a hand on her head. “Careful, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
Unless she likes that. Unless the slight bit of pain would make her body clench with excitement and anticipation. Unless the bite of a strap or the hot drip of candle wax brought out moans of pleasure. Then she could hurt herself. Or I could do it for her. I make a careful fist with my hand, squeezing my fingers tightly until need loosens its grip on my neck.
“As if you care.” She jerks again with an angry scowl etched into her brow. Not even those lines can mar her prettiness. She probably looks like an angel when she cries. Men have laid treasures at her feet before. I’m sure of it. Where did Santino find her and what was important about her? That’s more important than anything. I don’t want to have to fight his organization. I laid down my weapons long ago. Someone in this dirty world needed to be an arbitrator, a Switzerland, and why not me? Of course, I had to snuff out a few contrarians, but no one opposes my position now. Everyone has acknowledged the necessity that is Father Bjornsson and the Chapel. In the past, people would’ve brought this girl to my doorway as a prize. No one does that anymore since these are the types of sinful things I’ve rejected.
I capture her jaw in my palm and turn her face from left to right. “You look too fine to be caught up in Santino’s messes. Although my advice might be too late, hmmm?”
“How about you then? Are you just the right amount of ugly to be doing business with this Santino guy?”
I burst out laughing. “Yes, of course. No one likes this face.” I lightly slap my cheek. The girl flushes and averts her gaze. I’ve been called a lot of things in the past—heartless, amoral, ruinous—but not ugly. I’m amused. “What part of my features bothers you the most?”
“Any guy who has to ask for compliments is a guy with a small dick.” She sniffs.
“A small, wicked guy would feel the need to disprove this immediately.” I tilt my head to the side and catch her eyes. “I’m not here to hurt you, Angel, but there’s a girl at Kane Santino’s home. You have a relationship with her. Why don’t you share with Father Bjornsson all the details? You can consider it your confession for the week.”
Silence descends as the girl’s mouth remains stubbornly closed. I could pry it open. I have my hands, the pills in my pocket, and the belt around my black wool pants, but I do nothing. I let the silence hang between us like a heavy cloud. This girl has a sweetness about her, an innocence that you can almost feel. It stirs something primitive inside of me. I’m not a man given to reckless impulses. I’ve built my empire on steady, thoughtful decisions. It has made me reliable to people in all walks of life. If there’s a problem that you can’t solve, call the Chapel.
“I’m not a bad man. Just someone who needs a small piece of information. Tell me who the girl is, and you can go free.”
“Right. Like you’re going to let me out of here unharmed and that’s why I’m tied up? I’ve seen this movie before. Once you reveal your face, the person in the chair dies, and I’m the person in the chair.”
“I don’t care that you’ve seen me. Please feel free to tell others everything you have observed here at the Chapel.” I walk around behind her and loosen the ropes. There are red marks where she struggled against her bindings. I cough into my fist to hide a groan. Fuck, that’s sexy. I want to tie her up in a million different ways with a million different ropes. Her body would look perfect framed by a harness of silk bindings and knots, hung from the middle of my ceiling so that I could taste her any time I was hungry. I suspect my appetite would be unquenchable.
“I take it you are going to keep your secrets?” I manage to squeeze out in a somewhat light tone.
“I’m not telling you anything, that’s for sure.” Her small chin points up to the ceiling. “You can keep me tied here for a week and I’ll still have my lips sealed.”
“I’ve untied you,” I reply.
“What?” She raises her arms, looking at both hands in surprise as if she can’t believe she’s free. When recognition sets in, she hops to her feet and runs over to rip open the door. I follow her sedately as she races down the hall. I suppose she thinks she is going to find an exit, but the Chapel is a maze of rooms, and there is only one way out. Unfortunately for her, it is well guarded.
Lars, who was standing guard at the door, peers at the girl’s back as she runs away from us. “Do I need to fetch her?”
“No.”
“Get the information that you need?”
“Yes and no.”
He nods and then after a moment, “Should I send her back to Santino?”
“Of course not. She’s mine now.”
CHAPTER2
ANGEL
My heart racesas I run down the long, beautiful hallway with stained glass windows and overdone art with frames that look like they weigh more than I do. A sadness hits me that I can’t stop to appreciate their beauty, but this may be my only chance to escape.
I swear this place looks like it has been dropped out of Rome or something. Not that I’ve ever been. The closest I’ll ever get will be Google Earth and what I’ve read in books. My imagination will have to suffice because I definitely don’t have the means for a trip like that.
