The Good Sinner's Naughty Nun Read Free Page B

men—ugly, plain or not so much of either. Vivienne de Touraine was not there to waste time admiring a well-sculpted man. She was there to seduce him, distract him, get the key to that casket of relics and steal the treasure being smuggled inside it.
    Bishop Ravillard had chosen her specially for this task. But surely, she thought, had he seen this knight with his own two eyes, her master would have had second thoughts about sending only one female into the fray. Even if the female he sent was Vivienne, his most capable, most experienced, most cold-hearted seductress.
    Annoyed with herself, she pushed these wandering doubts aside. She'd handle the notorious Bonnenfant on her own, without reinforcements. She must succeed. Her master wanted that filigree gold and rock crystal vase hidden in the false bottom of the casket, beneath the 'holy' relics. It was a vase King William sent secretly to the Benedictine monks in the Abbaye-aux-Hommes at Caen, hoping to pay his way in through the gates of Heaven when his time came. Bishop Ravillard was determined to get his hands upon it before the casket reached Caen and he'd promised Vivienne, just as soon as she arrived in Rouen and placed the precious vase into his hands, he would set her free of her bonds. This was her final mission in his service and then she had repaid her debt to the powerful Bishop.
    It never ceased to amaze her the lengths men would go to claim riches, when all she wanted was her freedom. And perhaps, when she dared imagine it, a family of her own and a little, thatched-roof shack somewhere by a merry stream. A simple life away from this web of grasping ambition, away from the man who had enslaved her when she was only thirteen, forced her into his service to escape being burned as a witch along with her mother, and later dragged her likewise into his bed. The Bishop always reminded her that she owed him her life. For seven years she'd trembled in his presence, bowed to his every command, made herself numb just to bear the things he made her do for him. Because he'd promised her that if she was good and did all that he asked, he would one day set her free. He'd also assured her that by doing his bidding, she did the Holy Father's bidding, too. Thus all her past sins would be forgiven when she took her last breath.
    Now older and considerably wiser about many things, Vivienne knew God did not watch, as the Bishop claimed. God had long since ceased to care what she did or what happened to her. She was on her own. There might be no path to heaven for her, but at least she could still hope for that peace the Bishop had promised while she walked on earth.
    One last mission stood between her and that freedom.
    One last seduction.
    One last man.
    It may be said that Thierry Bonnenfant had never failed in a mission, but neither had Vivienne de Touraine, and she wasn't about to lose now that freedom was finally within her grasp.
    Approaching his tent, she noted a wary glimmer under his half-lowered eyelids, saw the tightening of his jaw and the tendons in his folded arms. He shifted slightly on his heels, a man prepared for a fight. She almost smiled. This man, so rumor went, would scarce blink an eye at bedding a nun. He was bereft of morals according to Bishop Ravillard—who should know, being a stranger to them himself. All she need do was throw a little temptation his way.
    "Well?" she exclaimed, finally reaching his tent and tucking her hands into her sleeves, as she'd seen Sister Marie do when she needed an air of authority. "What have you to say for yourself, young man?"
    Naught, apparently. He stared down at her, his face a rigid mask. If not for the low, rumbling burp that bounced out of him just then, she might have thought he was asleep on his own two feet. She was more than a little annoyed that she'd had to go to these lengths to get within reach of the man. When she began questioning the nuns' living quarters, causing a ruckus, she'd expected him to come and