To Steal a Heart by K. C. BATEMAN

Author:K. C. BATEMAN
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2016-02-23T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 30

Marianne’s stomach writhed with nerves, a hundred times worse than before her opening night at the circus. Why on earth had she ever agreed to do this? Who in their right mind broke into a prison? And, Oh God, what if something went wrong? Valette said everything was arranged, but people were notoriously unpredictable. Things always went wrong.

“Please don’t tell me you kidnapped a priest to get this outfit,” she murmured as Valette drew the rough hooded cloak over her head. Her teeth were chattering.

He smiled angelically. “Of course not.”

She wrinkled her nose and tried to concentrate on the immediate things around her instead of the suicidal task that lay ahead. The cloth smelled of garlic, sweat, and soil. Whomever the previous owner had been, bathing clearly hadn’t been high up on his list of priorities. Her stomach pitched, and she scratched herself, horribly suspicious she wasn’t the only living creature in the hideous garment.

The long-sleeved robes of a novice were tied at the waist with an unadorned length of twisted rope. The overlong hem dragged on the dusty ground, but at least it disguised the fact that she was wearing thieving clothes underneath: black breeches, black stockings, black shirt. Her ballet slippers, kindly provided by Laurent, were tucked in the back of her breeches.

She suspected the shirt belonged to Valette. It smelled of him. She buried her nose in it, oddly comforted by his scent. Anything was better than garlic.

He drew up her hood and surveyed her with his head on one side.

“What?” she demanded self-consciously.

“There’s nothing we can do about your eyes. They should be blue, not green.” He sighed, as if it was her fault. “Keep them down. And leave the talking to me. I’m Father Beaupré, a Jesuit priest. You’re Brother Francis, my apprentice.”

She knew the plan. They’d gone over it only a million times.

As they ducked out of the stables she took the opportunity to study Valette in turn. She scowled, thoroughly disgusted. No man should look so enticing while dressed as a monk. He was so handsome. So vitally alive. And that seductive, stomach-melting smile was anything but holy. She fiddled with the sleeve of her shirt, uncomfortably hot.

“I’m sure it’s a sin to impersonate a priest,” she muttered.

He smiled that wicked half smile. “It’s hardly the worst thing I’ve ever done. Nor you, either, I bet.”

His face was alight, his eyes glowing. There was a new intensity about him, an almost tangible aura of excitement. He was enjoying this, she realized with a shock. Here she was, almost sick with terror, and the damn man was actually enjoying himself.

But somehow his sense of anticipation transferred itself to her. Just being near him was exhilarating. “You love this, don’t you?” she said. “Outsmarting others. Breaking the rules and getting away with it.”

He shot her a wicked glance from under his lashes “Don’t you think there’s something wonderful about the planning of a crime, chérie? The buildup of tension, the preparation. That buzz of exhilaration when you succeed.

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