Lessons in Sin by Pam Godwin
CHAPTER 12
MAGNUS
The following day, I sat behind my desk and stared at Tinsley Constantine with new eyes.
She stood with her hands at her sides, shoulders back, and expression brimming with self-possession. Not a trace of the ashamed, teary-eyed girl I’d left in this room yesterday. Overnight, she’d regained her strength of will. With a few differences.
Her uniform met the dress code. She’d arrived on time for Mass this morning and sat through the service with little interruption. But I was under no illusion about her sudden compliance. I suspected, after a night of brooding anger and humiliation, she was simply picking her battles.
Or maybe I was the only one who spent the evening in turmoil.
I’d never ordered a student to remove her undergarments. Never even considered it. At the time, I’d told myself it served a practical purpose, knowing full well she would lose the fight with her bladder. I’d counted on it.
But when the tiny scrap of white cotton had slid down her legs, my entire body reacted. My thoughts turned inside out, and God help me, I hungered like I’d never hungered before. I ached for her humiliation so ravenously that when it finally arrived, it took all the concentrated restraint in the world not to fall upon her like a mindless, raging beast.
I had a choice. I could’ve fucked her. Right here in my classroom, I could’ve broken my vow and fucked her with piss on her legs, virgin blood on my dick, and her heavenly tears soaking the hand I would’ve held so tightly to her mouth.
She wouldn’t have survived it.
A demanding whisper in the silence of my heart argued she was stronger than I knew, stronger than anyone realized. That whisper had lured me back to the campus later last night to discover just how strong she was and how loudly she could scream.
Then I saw her. Walking along the wall just before nine, she took my breath away. Her beauty was so otherworldly, so unrivaled and angelic, I wanted to protect her, not hurt her. I couldn’t stomach the thought of poisoning her with my cancer and stripping her soul from her body. I wouldn’t do it.
I made a choice.
I packed away every depraved, immoral thought into a deep compartment labeled, Never open. Then I spent the rest of the night praying the rosary and celebrating my abstinence with a few too many whiskeys.
Nine years ago, I’d successfully buried my sickness in the same way. Since then, I hadn’t misstepped. I hadn’t come apart at the seams. I never caved. My self-control was inviolable.
Tinsley wasn’t in danger around me. Not yesterday. Not now. Not ever. She wasn’t a temptation.
And so this morning, as I stared at her with new eyes, it had less to do with me and more to do with the paper on my desk.
Pressing a finger against it, I slid it across to her. Then I laced my hands on the wooden surface and watched her.
She bent forward, glanced at the page, and little lines of disappointment knitted across her brow, there and gone by the time she straightened.
“Explain this to me.” I kept my tone light, conversational. “According to your enrollment paperwork, you’ve never taken a standardized test for university admissions. Why?”
“You would have to ask my mother.” She shrugged.
Her blasé attitude set my teeth on edge.
“I’m asking you.”
“If my mother has it her way, I’ll never see the inside of a university. An educated woman doesn’t make a good trophy wife in a loveless marriage with a man who’s twice her age. It’s best to keep me dumb, unambitious, and subservient.”
“And if you had it your way?”
“I want to go home.”
“How would that change your mother’s plans?”
“It changes everything. At home, I was well on my way to living my own life. I was exploring universities, experimenting with guys, figuring out who I am and what I want. That’s why she sent me here. To put a big fat stop on my voyage of self-discovery. She’s essentially locked me in a cage, secluded me from everyone and everything. I can’t even choose my own clothes.”
I couldn’t dispute any of that. Caroline held the reins of Tinsley’s life, which made the matter of the paper on my desk increasingly moot. But I wasn’t letting it go.
“The tests you took are proprietary assessment exams, created specifically for this school to place students on an appropriate individualized learning path.”
I was intimately familiar with the structure and intensity of the test questions because one, I used to own the corporation that designed the exams, and two, I’d taken the tests myself. Multiple times.
“In all the years I’ve been running this school and the hundreds of tests that have come across my desk…” I tapped the paper. “I’ve only seen test scores this high one time.”
My scores.But I kept that to myself.
She hadn’t cheated. I’d sat behind her the entire time, watching her fly through the exercises.
“Academic aptitude of your caliber doesn’t go unnoticed.” I pressed my fingertips together in a steeple against my mouth, thinking. “Your high school grades are average. You weren’t in any advanced classes. Have you not been applying yourself in school? Or has something else been holding you back?”
“I’m not smart, if that’s what you’re asking.” She strolled alongside the desk, letting her hand trail the surface’s edge. “I remember things. If I hear it or read it, I can recall it later. It’s just memorization. Nothing special.”
Her intelligence went way beyond memorization, and whoever had told her otherwise should have their tongue ripped out.
“The exam measured a range of cognitive abilities.” I studied her over the steeple of my hands. “That includes mathematical skills, spatial perception, and language. Your scores in science and logic are especially impressive, which has more to do with problem-solving and less to do with memory.”
“Whatever. So are you going to put me in advanced classes or something?”
My initial concerns had been that she wouldn’t keep up in those classes. Now that I knew she was ahead of our curriculum and every student here, I had to adjust for that. “I teach Advanced Placement Calculus after lunch, followed by Econometrics and Statistics. You’ll take those classes and spend the mornings with me in individualized instruction and religious training.”
She seemed to perk up at that, and I could guess the reason. She thought I was her ticket out of here.
I spread out my elbows on the desk, leaning forward. “Spending every day with me does not open opportunities to sabotage your graduation from Sion. Furthermore, any feelings you may develop for me—be it contempt or desire—will be squashed. Our relationship will remain professional, and any efforts to defile that will be punished.”
“Will my clothes be removed for these punishments?” She fluttered her eyelashes, straight-faced.
“Depends on your on-going issue with urinary incontinence.”
“I do not have incontinence.” She made a scoffing sound. “I hadn’t gone to the bathroom since before church.”
“Find a solution for that, Miss Constantine. You’re far too old to be reminded to use the toilet.”
“That’s not…ugh!” She paced away, clawing her nails along her scalp and pulling at her hair.
I rubbed a hand across my mouth, wiping away my amusement. She was way too easy to rile, and I rather enjoyed it.
Now that I thought about it, I’d never been this eager to converse with a student. Her rapid-fire quips and witty rejoinders kept me sharp and thinking on my toes. Given her test scores, it was no wonder. It would undoubtedly be a long year of stimulating conversation and verbal sparring.
She pivoted back toward my desk, her gaze drawing a path from my lips to my collar before darting to my eyes. “How long have you been a priest?”
“I was ordained four years ago.”
“So you haven’t had sex in four years?”
“Nine. I entered seminary and discernment nine years ago.”
“Nine years without sex?” Her eyebrows crawled to her hairline. “In all that time, you haven’t slipped up even once? Haven’t given in to the baser needs of human nature?”
“Not once.”
This line of questioning was nothing new. It’d been asked by hundreds of curious students and parents before her. So when she voiced the next question, I was ready for it.
“Why did you become a priest? And don’t give me a canned response. I already know you were a self-made billionaire and New York’s most eligible bachelor.”
All common knowledge. She only needed to put my name in an internet browser to learn the highlights of my illustrious career. I had no secrets, save one, and that lay buried beyond anyone’s reach.
“Before I chose this path, I was a wealthy businessman. I was raised Catholic, went to Catholic school, and endowed this boarding school with a lot of money because I have a personal connection here.”
“What personal connection?”
“Father Crisanto has been my best friend since childhood.”
“So he suckered you into a life of celibacy?”
“Do I look suckered, Miss Constantine?”
“Good point.” She pursed her lips. “But you have had sex, right? You’re not a virgin?”
“I’m not a virgin. When I reached my thirties, I made a conscious decision to do more with my life, to be more.”
“And you thought, Hey, why don’t I become a penniless, sexless, heartless teacher?”
“I donated my wealth and my life to this school because I wanted to become a shepherd.”
“And we’re your sheep.” She slowly inhaled through her nose and chewed on the inside of her cheek.
The answers I gave were honest, with one crucial omission. The secret I would take to my grave.
“That’s very noble of you, Father Magnus. I suppose you’re a better human than me.” She planted her hands on the desk and leaned in. “But that doesn’t mean you’re better at making decisions regarding my life. What becomes of me here, this year, impacts my entire future. Look at me.” She pointed at her face. “Look closely at my eyes, my expression. You’re staring at a woman who longs for one great passion, and always it lies beyond the next asshole.”
“If you’re calling me an asshole—”
“You’re the biggest one yet. But guess what?” She bared her teeth. “I want this more than you do.”
“You want what exactly? What is this one great passion?”
“Anything. Everything. Independence, self-discovery, romantic love, spiritual or professional fulfillment—whatever it is, it’s mine.” Her rasping breaths fell in a beguiling tumble of sounds, striking the air with tenacity. “The passion is in pursuing the life I want, and no one is going to take that from me.”
“Very well.” I gathered the papers on my desk and opened my laptop. “You can long for your one great passion while you’re on hands and knees scrubbing the floor of my classroom.”
“What? Why?”
“Zero tolerance, Miss Constantine.”
“Zero tolerance for what?” She gripped the edge of the desk. “Was it the asshole comment?”
“The comment, the attitude, the blatant disrespect.” I kept my gaze on the screen, dismissing her. “You know where to find the bucket and cleaning supplies.”
“Disrespect?” She laughed mockingly. “It’s called a backbone, and it’s pronounced, Go fuck yourself.” She spun away and stormed toward the door. “Scrub your own goddamn floors.”
I was out of the chair before the last part left her mouth. My longer strides beat her to the door, and as she reached for the latch, my hand was already on the wood, holding it closed.
Her breath caught audibly, and she slowly turned her neck. Her gaze landed on my legs and inched upward, sneaked a drive-by glance at my groin, and skated to my chest. The narrow gap between us forced her head to tip back, back, back, until a constellation of dainty, bewitching features filled my horizon.
The air buzzed with tension and animosity.
Then, with a twitch of her lashes, those blue eyes, both hot and fearful, locked on to mine. “Either send me home or spank me. I’m not scrubbing your floors.”
“Careful, Tinsley.” I fought every instinct that demanded I reach out and grab her by the throat. “You have no idea what you’re asking.”
Dragging her over my lap and welting her upturned ass didn’t begin to address what she deserved. Or what the sickness inside me craved.
As if reading my thoughts, she gulped, and the blood drained from her face.
“When you finish the floors in here, you’ll do the next room over and the one across from it, as well.”
A muscle leaped in her jaw. “I—”
“Think through what you’re about to say. There are six classrooms on this floor. There’s also a church and gymnasium with expansive wood flooring.”
“If I’m playing janitor all day, when will I learn?”
“Don’t worry about that, princess. I’ll read to you while you work.”
She groaned miserably. A sound that left me feeling deliciously winded as she marched off to the supply closet.
This tiny elven minx was going to be the death of me.