How many times had her fingers counted the beads of her rosary and uttered Hail Marys as her penance? Was she a good Catholic girl who walked to God’s home every Sunday? Was she even a believer? Or had she given up religion?
“Probably,” she answered.
“You ask for honesty from me, but your answers are half-truths.” It wasn’t a question.
“Aren’t you worried about what would be said if I’m seen sharing a bed with you before the wedding?”
I covered my chuckle with a scoff, and her eyes popped open.
“Anyone smart wouldn’t allow even a whisper.”
Her lashes fanned as her eyes lowered to her hand. She caught the direction it had taken to her thigh and brought it back, tucking them together.
Definitely hiding something.
“You will sleep in my bed.”
Her eyes flamed.
Test me, the demon begge
