Page 14 of Unholy Fate

“And what about your other sins?” Ian asked smoothly, leaning back in his seat, watching me intently. “These are simple, surface level sins. What about the ones that make you feel truly ashamed?”

Feeling exposed and vulnerable, I curled my hands around my upper arms. “I confess my sins, repent them and seek absolution.”

“But you still remember them,” Ian replied smoothly. “Tell me about the ones that linger in the back of your mind, no matter how many Hail Marys you say for your penance.”

I twisted my hands in my lap, trying to summon the will to end this strange conversation.

“I… I’ve had unkind thoughts. Judged people unfairly. Umm…wanted things,” I said, my voice scarcely more than a breath. “Things I shouldn’t want. Things I’ve never even...”

Ian’s voice dropped, becoming more intimate. “What kind of things?”

The conversation had veered into deeply personal territory, and my face grew hot, a prickly sensation spreading across my skin as my discomfort intensified. “That’s between me and God,” I bit out.

Ian’s expression was warm, his tone gentle yet insistent as he spoke. “Sometimes it helps to say it out loud. Especially in a place like this, where there’s no judgment.”

Growing defensive, I shook my head, a tightness coiling in my chest. “Saying those kinds of things makes them more real. I don’t want them to be real. I don’t think this is helpful.”

The corners of Ian’s mouth curved upward. “I am trying to help you, Evelyn. You should be honest with yourself.”

Frustration rose like a bitter taste in my mouth. “You’re pushing too hard,” I said, my voice low and bitter, a petulance in my tone.

Unbothered by my barely contained anger, Ian tilted his head. “Why does that bother you? Do you always lash out when someone gets too close to the truth?”

I glared at him, and said through gritted teeth, “I’m not lashing out. I just think you’re being invasive.”

A headache coiled in my skull, its tendrils of pain snaking through my temples, a sharp, stabbing pressure.

“And yet,” he said, leaning forward, his breath ghosting over my face, “you’re still here. Answering my questions. Isn’t that interesting?”

Breathing hard, I replied, “The only reason I’m even entertaining your questions is so this session will end faster and I can get out of here.”

What was I even thinking? This was a dream. I was arguing with myself. I could stand up and walk out at any time.

But it was Ian who rose from his chair and circled around to perch on the edge of the desk, far closer to me now. Close enough I could feel his body heat and smell the faint, spicy scent of his cologne. The combination made my head swim.

“All right. Let’s move on. Tell me about the people in your life. Anyone special?” he asked.

I blinked, startled by the abrupt shift in his questioning. “What do you mean?”

“Someone you care about,” Ian purred, each syllable a silken caress. “Someone who’s been on your mind, maybe more than they should be.”

A nervous swallow caught in my throat before I finally admitted, “There’s Father Hudson. He’s… kind. Supportive. A good mentor.”

Ian cocked his head. “You admire him?”

“Of course,” I replied quickly, on familiar ground, “He’s a good man, deeply devoted to the church. The world needs more people like him.”

“Do you ever think about him?” Ian asked casually, yet there was a deliberate edge to the question. “Not as a mentor, but as a man?”

I bit the lie out, not caring I was speaking a falsehood. “No.”

Perched on the desk, Ian crossed his legs at the ankles. “But you have thought about it, haven’t you? The warmth of his touch, the electric tingle of his kiss?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “The way his caress might make your skin tingle?”

A wave of desire that made my breath catch and my thighs tremble as I squeezed them together, fighting the overwhelming sensations his words evoked. “That’s wrong. Sinful.”

Ian’s voice stayed a low smooth murmur, like dark chocolate melting on the tongue. “Sinful, maybe.”

He gazed at me then, slow and knowing, and a shiver raced down my spine. “You dream of being touched, don’t you? Of being caressed and kissed and brought to heights of pleasure you’ve never known. You ache to be filled, to be possessed completely.”

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