Giulietta's heart pounded as if it would break free from her chest. She clutched the edge of her skirt, her fingers trembling.
She couldn't understand why this man, this stranger, wielded such power over her emotions.
The room, her sanctuary, felt stifling under his gaze. His presence was overwhelming, consuming.
Her voice was small, barely above a whisper, but firm as she recited, "All have sinned and fallen short of His glory." It was her anchor, a reminder of who she was and what she stood for.
His smirk widened, his thumb casually brushing over her knuckles, an intimate gesture that made her flinch. "A man has never been in this house before, has he, Sister?" he asked, his voice smooth and low, his words cutting through her like a blade.
She stiffened, pulling her hand back slightly. "No," she said flatly, her resolve steadying. "An unmarried man and woman should not be alone together in a room."
Her throat tightened, her breaths quickening. The heat in the room seemed to intensify, and her thoughts grew hazy. What was wrong with her?
Why did her body betray her with this unfamiliar warmth? She felt her composure slipping.
"Then," he continued, leaning closer, his dark eyes piercing hers, "you've never been kissed by a man, I presume?"
Her cheeks flushed violently at the question. Her pulse raced as she yanked her wrist free from his grasp, the heat of his touch lingering on her skin. "I think you should leave, Mr. Vitale," she said, her voice shaking but resolute. "This is inappropriate before God."
He stood, towering over her, the smirk never leaving his face. Sweat trickled down her temple, and before she could stop him, his thumb grazed her neck, wiping it away with a deliberate slowness that sent a jolt through her.
She recoiled instinctively, her voice trembling as she shouted, "Don't touch me!"
His expression darkened, his eyes glinting with a dangerous amusement. "Touch you?" he repeated, his voice like velvet dipped in sin. He stepped closer, and she instinctively backed away until her back pressed against the wall.
Her shame mixed with something else, something she couldn't name but burned deep within her.
When he leaned in slightly, their proximity leaving only a whisper of air between them, she felt her knees weaken.
"What are you thinking, Sister?" he asked, his tone mocking but laced with curiosity.
Her eyes widened, panic flashing across her face. "Nothing!" she gasped, her voice higher than usual. "What do you mean?"
He tilted his head, his smirk widening into something more predatory. "Well, I'm thinking a lot, Giulietta," he murmured.
Before she could respond, he moved swiftly, caging her between his body and the wall.
The heat of him was suffocating, his dark presence swallowing her whole. "I'm thinking a whole lot," he whispered, his voice a breath against her cheek.
She trembled, her mind a chaotic mess of emotions she couldn't decipher. This man was dangerous, intoxicating, and utterly wrong.
Her heart screamed for him to leave while her body betrayed her with its unsteady shivers.
Abruptly, he stepped back, his smirk fading into something more serious. He walked toward the door without another word, leaving her pressed against the wall, shaking and breathless.
At the threshold, he paused, turning back to her with an unreadable expression. "Forgive me, Sister," he said, his voice quieter, almost regretful. "For I have sinned."
With that, he disappeared into the night, leaving Giulietta alone in the silence of her too-small, too-hot room.