Page 56 of The Cost of Corruption

In a way, it would be easy to simply go like I had for the past week—waking up tangled in Matteo’s arms, going downstairs toeat breakfast at his side, spending the day with Liv and Letizia, helping with tasks and household chores until night fell and he came home.

That was the best part. No doubt about it.

The moment I heard the roar of his Jag’s engine pulling around back, my heart started to hammer. It was hard to control my excitement when I knew what was coming.

We’d gone out every night so far—though there had been no repeats of that wild first date. But that didn’t mean our evenings were tame.

Far from it.

So far, he’d taken me to high-class bars and nightspots. I’d been entertained by phenomenal jazz musicians in intimate clubs and dined at the chef’s table in Michelin-starred restaurants. And tonight, he had promised to take me out dancing—something I’d always wanted to try but never had the chance to do.

If Matteo was trying to make the case for me to forget my vows and stay in the secular world, he was doing a fantastic job.

Of course, it wasn’t just the nights out on the town helping his argument. There was also what happened when we returned home.

Night after night, he’d carried me to his bed, slipped off whatever slinky outfit Liv had helped me pick out earlier, and taken me with the same ravenous hunger of that first night on the restaurant table.

In the last week, I’d learned more about passion and pleasure than I ever dreamed possible.

No wonder my father had been so afraid of my attraction to Matteo. It was much easier to control someone who didn’t know what they were missing.

But now that I knew the ecstasy of Matteo’s touch, I wasn’t sure how in the world I was going to be content with the celibacy of the convent.

Worse than that, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to anymore.

For me, it would be like going back to a black-and-white world after experiencing color for the first time.

I didn’t believe there was anything wrong with those who felt called to a life in the church. Over the years, I’d met plenty of women who had found a true sense of peace and contentment in the church. Night after night, I’d prayed that I could find that same fulfillment.

But it never happened.

Instead, the only thing that filled me were thoughts of Matteo. All I had for comfort were unfulfilled fantasies and dreams.

The thought of going back to that world left me cold.

Speaking of cold…

“What do you think about this one?” Liv poked her head out of the closet, a black sequin dress dangling from the hanger in her hand.

“It’s a little short,” I answered. Even though I was becoming more comfortable with my body and all the things it could do and feel, my personality was still fundamentally the same. I hadn’t lostallsense of modesty.

“That’s good for dancing,” she replied, sounding like someone who had plenty of experience. “Lots of room for your legs to move.”

Yes, but not much material to cover my asswhilethey were moving.

Then again, maybe that was the point.

Still, I shook my head.

“I’ve worn black every night this week,” I said. It had seemed like the safe choice at the time, probably because it reminded meof my old habit. “Maybe it’s time to try something with a little color.”

Liv’s face lit up at the idea. “Oh, I know just the one.”

She disappeared inside for a few seconds before emerging with an equally short but just as fashionable dress in vibrant green.

“Oh, wow,” I gasped. Even though I’d walked past the outfit every time I’d gone into the closet, for some reason, tonight, I was looking at it with new eyes.

Low-cut and bold, it was the kind of dress for someone who radiated confidence.

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