How to Tame a Beast in Seven Days (The Embraced #1)

Through a wide, open doorway, she saw rows of wooden pews, lit by the sun streaming through long windows. At the end of the chapel, a few steps ascended to an altar. A large gleaming orb sat on the altar, and an even larger circle of gold was hanging from the high ceiling.

To the side of the altar, she spotted a man in a hooded black robe moving in the dark shadow of an alcove.

“Excuse me, Father?”

He stopped with a jerk, his back turned toward her.

Pirate woofed softly behind her, and she spun around. “What are you doing?” she whispered. “I don’t think dogs are allowed in here.”

He crouched low to the ground and slunk underneath one of the pews.

“Pirate, come out of there.” She leaned over to look at him. He didn’t appear inclined to move. With a sigh, she straightened, then caught a glimpse of the hooded priest slipping into a confessional booth.

You can do this, she assured herself, then strode down the aisle. She opened the door of the booth next to the priest and let herself inside.

It was not quite as dark as she had thought it would be, for there was a small opening at the top of the booth to let in some light. She settled on the wooden chair and glanced toward the metal grate. The man was turned away from her, his face completely hidden by his dark hood.

Was he one of the king’s spies? She would have to be careful and convince the priest she was one of the Enlightened. And not let her accent slip again.

With her best Eberoni accent, she recited the first line. “Greetings, Father. May the Light shine upon you always.”

*

Damn, damn, damn!

Leo gritted his teeth. Of all the stupid situations to get himself into. And everything had gone so well up to this point. He’d accompanied Nevis and Brody into the fortress. Brody had shown him the location of Lady Tatiana’s bedchamber before dashing off to the catacombs to shift back into a dog. Then Leo and Nevis had proceeded to the Great Hall, where the midday meal was being served. Leo had remained hidden upstairs on a curtained balcony at the far end of the hall. He assumed it was a gallery for musicians, but with no musicians there, it afforded him the perfect place to study all the people below. When he spotted the three priests busily eating, he hurried to the chapel to search their rooms for the sort of weapons an assassin might have.

Just before he could reach the door that led to their rooms, a female voice had called out to him. Luckily, a dog named Pirate had distracted her. It had only taken a second to realize who Pirate was and who she had to be. And like a fool, he had turned to look at her.

Tatiana. So close. And even more beautiful than he’d imagined.

How long did she intend to pray in the chapel? He couldn’t afford to be trapped in the priests’ rooms until she left, not when the priests could return at any moment. A quick look around gave no sign of another exit. Before she could finish fussing at Brody, he slipped inside a confessional booth. It hadn’t occurred to him that she would enter the next booth. Shit!

When was the last time he’d confessed? Ten years ago? Twelve? He’d seen no reason to tell anything to the king’s spies. But apparently, others still went through the ritual. Perhaps they feared the priests would report them if they didn’t. These days, a bad report from a priest could get a person killed.

She cleared her throat as if she thought he might not be aware of her presence. How could he not be aware? Her voice was soft with the tiniest hint of a lilt. Charming. Her scent of rose petals wafted through the grate. Sweet. He could hear every rustle of her skirt as she settled on a chair. Feminine. If he dared to turn his head, he would see her. Beautiful.

He clenched his gloved hands. Dammit.

“Greetings, Father,” she said softly. “May the Light shine upon you always.”

What was the proper response? He cleared his throat. “Blessed be the Light.”

“Blessed be the Light that can illuminate my sins,” she answered.

He winced. Did she actually have something to confess? Like consorting with one man while she was betrothed to another? He turned his head slightly so he could see her through the grate. She was staring straight ahead, biting her lower lip. Her skin was pale and luminous. Her profile sweet and delicate. Small nose, pink cheeks, and a soft curve to her jaw. She looked so young. And innocent.

“First, if you don’t mind,” she began shyly, “I would like to give thanks to the Light for restoring my health.”

He leaned closer to the grate, trying to see any lingering signs of her close brush with death, but her cheeks were pink and full, her eyes unmarked by shadow. “I heard you were quite ill.”

Her blush deepened and she lowered her head. Her loose black hair swept forward like a silk curtain, hiding her face. So close. He rested a gloved hand against the grate, imagining how soft her hair would be. How soft her skin would be.

“The Light was merciful. I am much better.”

“Beautiful,” he whispered, then turned away quickly when she glanced sharply toward the grate.

“Excuse me?”

“The … the Light is beautiful in his mercy.” He winced and pulled the hood forward to better hide his face. “Did you have something you needed to confess?”

She hesitated, then answered, “I’m afraid so.”

His jaw clenched. If he had to hear about her lover—

“May the Light shine upon my transgressions for the world to see. I—I took a long bath.”

He blinked. “That’s it?”

“Well, it was a really long bath.”

He snorted. “You should be ashamed.” He certainly was, for he was starting to imagine her naked body immersed in warm, sudsy water.

She sighed. “I’m afraid I lounged in the tub for hours. And I used far more soap than was necessary. I must have lathered up my entire body three times. It was terribly wasteful.”

He groaned silently as more visions flitted through his mind. Long, shapely legs extending into the air with soap sluicing down her skin, headed for her sleek thighs. Rounded breasts, slick and glistening, peeking above the water with soapy bubbles clinging to her nipples.