Read Online False Tongues by Kate Charles - Free Book Online Page A

she’d been sitting and crossed to the window, studying the view silently.
    That gave Callie the chance to observe the top Tamsin was wearing—something that had been difficult to do when Tamsin was seated. It was a sort of a t-shirt, periwinkle blue in colour, made of a stretchy jersey fabric, but tailored to Tamsin’s ample figure and topped with a dog-collar. She was about to mention it when Tamsin shook her head, sending her curls into bouncy mode, and changed the subject.
    â€˜Let’s not talk about him anymore—he’s not worth it. I want to hear more about your wonderful Marco. Is it true what they say about Latin lovers? Is he fantastic in bed?’ She gave Callie a lascivious grin, then smacked her lips.
    Oh, no—the question she’d hoped Tamsin wouldn’t ask. Callie flopped back onto the bed, pulling the pillow over her face, aware that she was blushing. ‘Actually,’ she said, ‘I don’t know. Yet. We haven’t—’
    Tamsin shrieked. ‘You haven’t? Why not? Don’t tell me you’ve developed scruples, now that you’re ordained?’
    â€˜It’s not that, exactly.’ Why was she telling Tamsin this? It was something private between herself and Marco, none of Tamsin’s business, but Callie couldn’t stop herself now that it had gone this far. ‘It’s not me, it’s Marco. He’s Italian. He’s Roman Catholic. He has this thing about priests being holy. He says he just can’t, until we’re married.’
    â€˜My God. But he’s a red-blooded man, isn’t he?’ Tamsin yanked the pillow from Callie’s hands and stared down at her.
    â€˜I didn’t say it was easy. And I’ve tried.’ Callie pressed her palms to her burning cheeks. How humiliating—to have to admit, even to one of her best friends, that her fiancé didn’t want to sleep with her. That wasn’t strictly true, though, she reminded herself: he did want to sleep with her, and had clearly demonstrated how much on a number of occasions, but she hadn’t yet managed to overcome all of those cultural barriers that were standing in their way.
    â€˜You haven’t tried hard enough, obviously.’ Tamsin grinned, irrepressible. ‘I know what we’ll do. We’ll sneak away from the college some time this week and go into town. That sexy lingerie shop in Rose Crescent, near the market…We’ll find something there that will do the trick.’
    She’d had enough of this conversation; it was Callie’s turn to change the subject. ‘Speaking of clothes,’ she said firmly, ‘tell me about your…um…clerical shirt. I’ve never seen anything like it.’
    Tamsin struck a pose, arms outstretched and chest thrust forward. ‘Good, isn’t it? One of my parishioners is in the fashion business, and she designed it for me. I have them in all sorts of colours. Every colour of the rainbow, for every day of the week.’
    â€˜But…why?’
    â€˜I can’t wear a normal clerical shirt.’ Tamsin looked down at her chest and gave her blond curls a rueful shake. ‘My boobs are too big. The buttons won’t stay done up over them, and nothing looks more unprofessional than a curate with her boobs hanging out. I have a difficult enough time being taken seriously without that.’
    Callie laughed. ‘Well, whatever works for you, I suppose.’
    ***
    Neville’s meeting with Detective Superintendent Evans had taken exactly the path he had expected. Evans’ main concerns, apart from the obvious ones of solving the crime and finding the perpetrators, were to identify the victim and to manage the press. ‘It’s mainly why I’ve put you on the case,’ Evans said. ‘The press are going to go mad over this. Another teenager stabbed to death. Sort it, Stewart.’
    Fortunately that meeting had been short, if