Page 16 of The Virgin's Dance with the Devil
Should he call her? He never had before. They’d never used their phones to communicate.
After pouring himself a large whiskey, his gaze fell on the book on the table. He’d forgotten he’d shoved it in the deep back pocket of his shorts until it had made a thumping sound when he’d stripped for his shower.
He picked it up and read the back cover. He supposed he could mug up on the story for when Marisa inevitably asked his opinion of it. Review sites had proved their weight in gold for him these last four months, but there was something about this book that reminded him of the ones he’d been forced to read at school. They’d been dog-eared from being read by so many students. This was dog-eared because of the number of times Marisa had read it. She must love it very much to read it so many times.
He carried it to the bed and settled down. He’d read a few pages – well, try to. It would add a touch of authenticity for when he delivered his thoughts on it.
It was a strangely comforting sensation to hold something he knew was so loved by her and had been held so many times in her hands.
The Santa Maria church, originally a tenth-century Benedictine Abbey, was situated at the highest point inAccardiano. Marisa crossed the small piazza at its front and was grateful to find the door unlocked.
Inside, she took a moment to breathe in the familiar, comforting scent of musty beeswax and soak in the gracefully ornate neoclassical interior, and then slipped onto a pew, sank to her knees and clasped her hands together.
She prayed for her father’s health, for her mother’s strength of mind and for her sister’s happiness, and she prayed too, for the name she’d added to her list of prayers after their second lunch together. “Please, look over Rico, and keep him safe from himself.” After a long moment of hesitation, she got to the point of her reason for being there. “Please, dear heavenly father,” she whispered, “help me reconcile my feelings for him because when I’m with him it feels so right, but I don’t see how it can be right to have such strong feelings for someone I know has done such bad things and who it would break my family’s heart for me to be with. Please, help me. Amen.”
It was the same prayer she’d made before going to sleep, but no divine inspiration had revealed itself by the time she’d woken. Hopefully, being here in God’s house would help her see the light through the fog of confusion that was her thoughts and emotions, because she just didn’t know what to do. Her feelings for Rico had already been strong and confusing, and now the kiss they’d shared had awoken something else in her, something that had flickered to life for the first time on a dancefloor and now hugged tightly to her. She longed for Rico with her body and her heart, but how could it ever be?
Time slipped away as she begged for guidance, a sign,anything. She had a distant awareness of other people entering the church, but paid no attention to them, not even when she sensed movement close to her… not until she breathed in the scent of fresh oranges warming under the summer sun.
Her heart slammed against her ribs even while the rest of her froze inshock.
She had no idea how she pulled herself together enough to get off her knees and sit back on the pew beside him. “What are you doing here?” she whispered shakily.
He shifted closer so the side of his body pressed into the side of hers. Pitching his voice low, he said, “Looking for you.”
“But how did you know I was here?”
He leaned his head against hers and murmured, “I didn’t. The guards told me you’d left the hotel. I guessed I would find you here.”
Closing her eyes, Marisa threaded her fingers tightly together, barely able to comprehend what was happening.
She’d been praying for a sign, and Rico had appeared.
If he was bothered by her silence, he made no sign of it, seemingly content to sit there and wait for her to speak or do something.
More sounds and voices were filling the church. There must be a mass about to start.
Hardly able to breathe, she covered Rico’s hand and lightly squeezed before getting to her feet. Following her lead, he rose too.
Outside in the rising sun, he said. “We can stay for mass if you want?”
Her chest still too full to speak, she folded her arms over her chest and shook her head.
She’d received her answer.
“Coffee?”
She nodded and let him lead her through a narrow back street to a small café. Only a handful of people were in there.
Coffees ordered, they settled into a small corner table.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
She took a sharp breath before meeting his piercing, watchful stare. “No.”
“Why not?”
She shrugged and pulled a rueful smile. “I went to churchlooking for guidance to reconcile my feelings for you, and you turned up.”
