Blessed: A Bad Priest Romance

by Alexis Angel

  More than guiding the Donovans, though, my father guided me through my most turbulent years. And so, I ended up following his footsteps, becoming a member of the Order just like him.

  Now, I wasn’t satisfied with just that; instead, I also made a vow of celibacy. Why would a guy like me do that? It’s crazy, right? Well, not exactly. After all, I’ve already had more sex than anyone should have, and what better way to become a stronger man than to fight against my most basic instincts? It hasn’t been that hard, though. Even though women still throw themselves at my feet, I’ve never come across someone capable of rattling me. And I honestly doubt that’s going to happen, especially now that I’m about to embark on a very special mission.

  You see, just like my father, I’m about to become an adviser to the Donovan family.

  If you were wondering why a guy like me would be aboard a luxurious private plane, that answers it. Even though I don’t care much for luxuries, and would have preferred to book a commercial flight, this time it couldn’t be helped.

  A flight from Rome to New York takes, usually, more than half a day, and with a private jet plane, I can travel that distance in under nine hours. And why am I in such a hurry?

  Because of the funeral.

  Two days ago, my father passed in his sleep, and I was quickly tasked with taking over his role inside the Donovan family. I’m much younger than he was when he accepted that responsibility, and I’m not really sure if I’m ready for it. That uncertainty, coupled with the way grief has been clawing at my very soul since I found out about my father… Well, it hasn’t been easy.

  But life isn’t supposed to be easy, is it?

  And so, despite all hardships, I will do my job. I’ll follow in my father’s footsteps, and I’ll make him proud. Which isn’t going to be an easy task, mind you. By now, the two Donovan children, Earl and Clarise, are all grown up; I met them just once, but I remember the heated rivalry between them.

  Something tells me things haven’t changed.

  Well, that’s my responsibility now.

  2

  Clarise

  Black dress, black heels, black shades.

  I take a spin in front of the full body mirror, watching as the fabric of my dress clings to my curves, and I sigh heavily.

  Usually I enjoy dolling myself up, but there’s nothing fun about getting ready for a funeral. Specially when it’s the funeral of someone who was very dear to you. I can’t even begin to imagine how life will be now that Edward’s gone. He’s been with the family ever since I was a small girl, and I thought that he’d always be around ... of course, life always has to throw you a curveball, and now the house seems more empty than ever.

  It might sound a bit stupid to say it, but in a sense, I considered him part of the family. More than an adviser, he was like that uncle who always knew exactly what to say when trouble reared its head. And, oh, how I pestered him with my teenage girl problems. More than wise, Edward was definitely a very patient man. Even more patient than my own parents.

  Not that I can blame my parents; I’ve always had a reputation as a party girl, and you know how that plays out with powerful families, don’t you? Bad press, tabloids, and whatnot … my parents hated it, especially my mother. Only Edward seemed to be kind toward me, even when I was at my worst.

  But now he’s gone, and at a time our family needs him the most.

  Ever since my brother started working under my father’s tutelage, being groomed as a possible heir to the Donovan empire, things have started to become hard. Now, I know… I’m a privileged child. I shouldn’t be telling you about how life’s hard when I live in one of the most expensive mansions in the world and have all the luxuries that come with it.

  But having money doesn’t mean that you’re happy, you know? Sure, it doesn’t hurt, but it’s not a guarantee of anything … Sometimes I even think that I’d be much happier if our family was just a normal one, no business empire or legacy to worry about.

  There’s a silver lining to all of this, though.

  I know, I know… It’s a bad thing to say! Well, but there really is a silver lining… Shortly after Edward passed away, we received notice from the Vatican that they’d be sending a replacement: Edward’s own son, Connor. And, there’s no other way to put it, I’m a little excited with the prospect of seeing Connor again.

  He used to visit Edward in the summers, staying at the guesthouse with him, and those were always fun times. I mean, Connor was handsome and charming… He was just a few years older than me, but he dazzled me all the same. Nothing ever happened between the two of us, though, and I suspect that was because he saw me as both too young and as someone under his father’s responsibility.

  I was a bit surprised when I got word that he had become part of the Order of the Temple, though. Just like me, he had a reputation as a party beast, and every time he came here he left broken hearts in a thousand-mile radius. But, somewhere down the road, he changed. And now he’s coming back as our advisor. It’s almost funny to think about him in such terms.

  Yeah, okay, I’ll admit, I always had a bit of a crush on him. But it’s not like that’s a surprising revelation or anything. I mean, every single one of my friends (or pretty much every girl I know) had a crush on Connor. So, yeah, forgive me if I’m a bit anxious with the prospect of seeing him again.

  "Clarise?" I hear my mother say from the other side of the door, and then she raps her knuckles against it. Before I can say a thing, I see the handle turning and, one second later, she steps inside my bedroom suite. Although the dress I’m wearing is as fit for a funeral as it is for a boardroom, my mom’s definitely dressed for a funeral. She’s even rocking one of these dreadful veils. Still, she’s a lucky one; despite being in her mid-fifties, she remains as beautiful as when she was twenty. It’s kind of a cliché, but it’s true—some women don’t age, they mature.

  "I’m almost ready, mom," I tell her offhandedly, turning my attention back to the mirror and running one hand through my hair.

  "Maybe you’re too ready?"

  I turn on my heels to meet her gaze, and her judging smile tells me everything I need to know. It’s pretty obvious actually; while she’s wearing a modest black dress, something that’d be appropriate anywhere in the world, the one I’m wearing pushes the envelope a little bit because of my cleavage.

  "What?" I ask her, pursing my lips and sighing. "I’m not that bad."

  "Ah, God, Clarise," she sighs heavily, her gaze going straight to my cleavage, and then she shakes her head disapprovingly. "You’re lucky we’re already running behind schedule, or else I’d make you change that dress."

  "Yeah, thanks for the compliment, mom," I shoot back at her. In a sense, I know she’s right; it isn’t exactly in good taste to show this much cleavage, but I let my unconscious mind pick the dress for me. Just like I told you, Connor’s coming back to town and, deep down, I want to show him that I’m not a little girl anymore.

  Does that make me bad? I think it does. But I’m not afraid of being a bad woman. This world needs more bad women, don’t you think?

  And so, as I walk side-by-side with my mom, making our way down the main stairway of the mansion, I can’t help but let a slight confident grin creep up on my lips.

  "There you are," my father tells me impatiently, running his fingers down his tie and then waving at the limo waiting for us. "Let’s go, we’re already late."

  "Thanks to Clarise," my brother mutters, looking at me sideways with an annoying grin. He doesn’t waste an opportunity to jab at me, and why would today be any different?

  But I won’t let him rattle me. No, today’s a day of mourning…

  And it’s also the day I see Connor again.

  3

  Connor

  I’ve never been a fan of huge churches, particularly one as big as the one in which I’m sitting right now. According to a brochure I read before arriving, this particular congregation is big enough for more than fifty thousand souls. Can you ev
en imagine a church this big? And, more than being just big, it’s also a luxurious one. It must've cost a fortune to erect these walls, and that’s probably why the Donovans were one of the main donors when it came to building.

  It’s kinda fitting, in a way; a family as powerful as the Donovans always swing for the fences when it comes to occasions like this. I don’t think my father would’ve enjoyed a service this big, though, and if it were up to me, I’d have chosen somewhere more intimate. But I didn’t have a choice; I was in Rome when my father passed away, and the Donovans kindly arranged everything.

  So, if it seems that I’m complaining, rest assured, I’m not.

  Of course, I know that Jonathan Donovan wouldn’t mind going for something more intimate as well. After all, he knew my father better than anyone. But according to what my father used to tell me, Jonathan’s wife, Carolyn, cares about appearances as much as she cares about the air she breathes. Not that my father said that in a derogatory manner; according to him, keeping up with appearances was part of being one of the Donovans. After all, with the amount of money and power they have, they’re always under the public eye.

  Not that everyone in the family follows these guidelines, particularly Jonathan’s daughter. She was always the rebellious one, partying hard as she made her way through college. Even though I spent the last few years in Europe, I always made sure I kept up with the news coming out from the States… And, sooner or later, there’d always be an article about Clarise, one of the heirs to the Donovan empire. Even though she was top of her class at Wharton Business School, the tabloids didn’t cut her any slack with her ‘party-hard’ attitude.

  "What can I say about Edward?" Jonathan says, speaking into the microphone as he gazes down toward the thousands of people hanging on every word of his. He’s in the pulpit now, my father’s casket just a few meters away from him, and every set of eyeballs is trained on the leader of the Donovan family. His voice booms through the dozens of speakers mounted throughout the cavernous room, and I feel the air on the back of my neck standing up as I listen to him. "More than just a good man, he was an outstanding man. It’s no secret that he was one of my closest friends and, more than that, he also helped my family throughout the years."

  The crowd remains silent at his words, but I can feel that some people are feeling the itch to start clapping. No wonder, I feel the same as well. But out of respect for my father, everyone remains solemnly silent.

  "It’s my deep belief," Jonathan continues, standing tall while he faces the crowd, "that the Donovan family wouldn’t be what it is today without the strong advice Edward offered us. But today is not about my family; today’s about the best man I’ve ever known in my entire life. A man of honor and integrity." Even though he has written his speech, he’s speaking straight from the heart right now. "And only one person in here knew Edward better than I do. And that’s his son, Connor."

  He points toward me as he finishes speaking and I get up from my seat, buttoning my jacket as I do it. I was scheduled to speak immediately after Edward, so it doesn’t come as a surprise that he mentions me right now. The crowd finally submits to the urge to clap, but they do it in a respectful matter, quieting down as I walk down the main aisle and assume my position behind the pulpit.

  "Have at it, son," Jonathan tells me politely, shaking my hand, and then he walks back to his seat, sitting down next to his family. I let my gaze wander over the crowd, but I find my eyes being drawn toward the Donovans. And when I say the Donovans, what I really want to say is Clarise.

  No, don’t look at me like that. I’m just doing it out of curiosity, after all, I haven’t seen her in years. And, oh, the years have been very kind to her… She was already pretty as a young woman, but she has grown into someone truly extraordinary. Full lips, perfect curves, straight golden hair… Her mother was a beautiful woman back in the day, but I guess that Clarise has now claimed the title of Donovan beauty to herself.

  "Thank you, everyone, for being here today," I finally say, leaning into the microphone and taking a deep breath. "My father was a simple man, and he lived his life in the way he knew best: with dignity, and with a strong sense of what it means to be responsible for our surroundings. He devoted his life to others and, in that, I think he was an example to be followed."

  The crowd takes in my words attentively but, even though I keep on speaking for a few more minutes, my mind starts drifting. Somehow, I just can’t peel my eyes off Clarise… And she, like everyone else, is looking straight at me. And, Jesus, her deep blue eyes are making me lose my focus…

  "Once again, thank you for being here. My father would take great pride in knowing that so many people loved him," I finish off, forcing myself to take my eyes off Clarise. The crowd starts clapping again and, without further ado, I make my way down the aisle toward my seat.

  What the hell just happened in there?, I think to myself, Clarise’s figure burning bright inside my mind. This is my father’s funeral, and here I am, lusting after a woman I’m supposed to guide in life.

  Not a good start, that’s for sure.

  4

  Clarise

  "Amen," I repeat after the priest, my voice just another one in the chorus. Lowering my head, I wait until the casket is moved down into the hole in the ground, and I have to grit my teeth to stop myself from crying.

  It’s hard to bury someone who cared about you. Maybe the correct thing to say would be that it’s hard to bury someone we cared about… But, the truth is, the people who end up leaving a mark in our lives are the ones who cared about us, not the opposite.

  And Edward was exactly that kind of person. Wise and patient, he put up with me even though my family saw me as nothing more than a spoiled little brat. And for that, I’m eternally grateful.

  In my hands there’s a small rose with a long stem, its petals painted in a violet red. I brought it with me so that I could lay it on top of his casket. It might seem a bit silly, but I just wanted to offer one final gesture.

  Before the dirt is shoveled on top of the casket, I take one step forward and breath in deeply. I’m just a few feet away from the hole in the ground when my eyes find Connor’s; he’s standing opposite of me, and there’s something in the way with which he’s looking at me that ignites a slow burning fire inside me.

  Oh, God.

  Okay, look… I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but I just can’t stop myself.

  Pursing my lips, I take a few steps forward; I look down at the casket, a thin layer of dirt already covering it, and I bend over slowly, my fingers curled tight around the stem of the rose.

  Opening up my hand, I let the rose fall down, and it lands on top of the casket softly. Bending over as I am, I feel my breasts hanging loosely, and I know that Connor has a pretty nice view of my cleavage right now. In a way, maybe I’ve chosen this spot unconsciously… fully knowing that it’d put me right in front of him.

  Again, let me ask you, does this make me a bad person? After all, Connor’s burying his father, and here I am… Showing off my cleavage in a rather lewd way. Now, don’t think that I’m jiggling my breasts like some stripper on stage—no, I did it rather carefully, making sure that I was in Connor’s line of sight only.

  Still, it’s in poor taste, I know. But desire doesn’t really care about taste, does it? Desire only wants that sweet electric crackle, and it’s not something that I, or anyone, for that matter, can really control. At least that’s the way I choose to see it.

  Standing up, I lock my eyes on Connor’s, and my heart almost skips a beat as I fall under his gaze. He’s staring straight at me and, even though his expression is a solemn one, I somehow can see that he enjoyed the sight of my breasts. How? I have no idea, but something in his eyes tells me that there’s more to Connor than whatever vow he took.

  I still find it hard to wrap my head around the fact that Connor took a vow of celibacy. It almost seems… wrong. Handsome as he is, smart and charming as well, it’s almost a sin for him to remove
himself out of the dating pool.

  Perversely, knowing that he took a vow makes me want him even more. Yes, I’ve said it; I want him. And I don’t need to tell you exactly how I want him, do I?

  Without even thinking about what I’m doing, I let my feet carry me forward. I stop right in front of him, still looking straight into his eyes, and then offer him a slight smile. "I’m truly sorry, Connor," I tell him, and I mean every word of it. "Your father was … he was my friend," I continue, not knowing what else to say.

  "I know," he replies softly, returning my smile even though there’s a deep sadness in his eyes. Ah, I wish I could help clear all that sadness … and maybe I can. But, of course, I can’t do anything right now.

  With a slight nod, I then turn on my heels and march straight to the place where I was, joining my father as the dirt starts to pile up on top of Edward’s casket. We stand there for a long moment, watching in silence, and only walk away when the sky turns grey. A light drizzle starts taking over the day, and that’s when the whole crowd starts heading out of the cemetery, heading for their cars, and preparing to make the drive toward the Donovan estate. Knowing that there’s no way that Connor could organize such a thing, being that he was in Rome and all that, my father decided to do the repast in our own estate.

  In a way, it might seem like my family is taking up the spotlight. I know that, but what else can we do? Edward was, after all, one of the most important members of our family, even if he didn’t share the Donovan blood.