Famed for his iron control, Prince Benedict, just weeks from joining the priesthood, is unprepared for the chemistry that ricochets through him when he meets Ruby. She is temptation personified...but she couldn’t be more inappropriate for a royal fling! Except after years of choosing duty over desire his control has finally snapped—he’s choosing pleasure...of the most X-rated kind. After all, if he’s going to indulge in the forbidden, the higher the stakes, the greater the thrill!

“DARE is Harlequin’s hottest line yet. Every book should come with a free fan. I dare you to try them!”

—Tiffany Reisz, international bestselling author

CHAPTER ONE

Benedict

MY KNEES ARE stiff against the cold flagstones. No surprise, seeing as I’ve been at prayer since before dawn. But my concentration breaks every time my gaze falls on the painting of the blonde angel, the one hanging above my head in the gilded frame. Instead of elevating my soul, she’s become my secret torment, her innocent image taking center stage in my wicked fantasies.

Imagine if she were flesh and blood instead of oil and canvas. Better still...imagine those pouty red lips sheathing my shaft, her hot tongue taking me to heaven while I pump her greedy mouth.

During these brief daydreams, I’m not Brother Benedict, a holier-than-thou man in a white collar and black cassock. I’m just plain Benedict—a free man able to give himself to all perverted desires, damn the consequences.

I suppress a shudder. Freedom is the one possession I’ve never had in my privileged upbringing as the second son to the King of Edenvale.

It isn’t only dangerous for me to lust, it’s pointless.

Rising, I crush my fist into my prie-dieu. With a heavy grunt, I lean my weight into my split knuckles, leaving a small tattoo of blood on the polished mahogany, penance for my debauchery.

At that very moment, the rising sun hits my prayer room’s stained glass window, and the pane glitters like so many jewels. I freeze, hypnotized as the multicolored shards cast reflections on my throbbing hand.

Hundreds of years ago, a long-forgotten artist had carefully selected each of these colors based on their symbolic meanings:

Red for courage and martyrdom.

Blue for heaven and the promise of eternal life.

Green for hope and victory over sin.

Gold for divinity.

White for purity.

I bow my head and retreat into the shadows, my stomach clenching like a fist, tight with guilt. I’m a seminarian and in one month’s time I’m going to take my final vows for Holy Orders.

This is my duty. My life has been scripted for this moment since birth. I can’t afford for my resolve to weaken.

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