“Did it take time for you to win him over?”
She’d blown any chance of that the night she’d offered him everything she had, including her love. But this was just pretend, so she played it as if her “husband” really felt something for her. “As a matter of fact, it did.”
“And now you know he’s completely devoted.”
“As devoted as any man could be, I suppose.”
Ethan threw back his head and laughed. Rachel suspected he was exaggerating his reaction for Nate’s benefit. He wanted Nate to think they were having more fun than they were. But she didn’t care how their dance might be affecting her boss because she knew his jealousy was all part of the act.
“You have issues with men?” Ethan asked.
“Only when they try to control me. I’d had enough of that by the time I was seventeen.”
“And who has tried to control you, beautiful Rachel?”
“Mainly my father, who was formidable.”
Ethan’s suit smelled of expensive cologne, which wasn’t a wholly unwelcome scent. “He was strict?”
“Militant.”
She hadn’t gone into much detail at dinner.
He seemed to think that over. “At dinner, you said you were from Utah.”
“That’s right.”
“Mormons can certainly be…rigid.”
The music swelled and the volume of voices around them crescendoed with it. “A decent guess, but I’ve never been Mormon.”
“What religion were you, then?”
The dossier Milt prepared hadn’t covered this, so—like Nate at dinner—she went with what she felt would be convincing, and the truth was the most convincing of all. “A break-off from the Jehovah’s Witnesses.”
“A break-off?”
“When my father was in his early twenties, he met a man who was heavily involved in a faith that his brother had founded, one even stricter than the original. It’s only been around for about thirty years. It isn’t large.”
“What’s it called?”
“The Church of the Witness of True Faith.”
“I’ve never heard of it. I don’t know much about Jehovah’s Witnesses, either. My own family was agnostic.”
“Then it’s ironic you became so religious.”
“We all worship something.”
“What did your family worship?”
“Money.”
Hadn’t he told her earlier that his father was a dissolute alcoholic? “And booze, right?”
His grin slanted to the side. He didn’t seem to care that he’d just given away his lie. “Right.”
“Definitely not my father’s problem,” she went on. She didn’t want the conversation to focus on anything remotely close to the fact that she’d already known his background.
“What was?”
“Control, of course.”
“The True Faith was more restrictive than most religions?”
“You could say that.”
He turned her so she could no longer see Nate, only the faces of the many strangers looking on. “I’ve heard that Jehovah’s Witnesses can’t get a blood transfusion or donate blood,” he said. “Was that also a belief in the True Faith?”
“That and more.”
“For instance…”
“I wasn’t allowed to attend a school dance. Or any school activity, for that matter.” Her father had refused to permit her to join such activities. She could spend very limited time with girls whose beliefs differed from his, which put her on the outside of about every group or clique there was.
“Now I understand why you were reluctant to come out on the floor with me. You’re not accustomed to this type of celebration.”
“Any type of celebration.”
Sobering, he rubbed her back lightly. “Poor baby. Tell me, what else did you miss?”
She hid a grimace at the endearment but had to admit he seemed genuinely interested and even somewhat sympathetic. “We didn’t celebrate any holidays, including Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Valentine’s or our birthdays. I couldn’t join the Girl Scouts, become a cheerleader, run for class president or play any sports. I wasn’t supposed to salute the flag or sing the national anthem. And I couldn’t date without supervision. I couldn’t even say ‘bless you’ when someone sneezed, although I can’t remember the reason for that.”
He turned her yet again. “I’m guessing the worst sin of all would be marrying an unbeliever, correct?”
“Correct.”
“But you did just that.”
Not yet. However, it was exactly what she planned to do if she ever found the right man. Never would she marry someone who was ultrareligious. “Yes. I walked out when I was seventeen and haven’t looked back.” That was a bit of a stretch. She looked back all the time. But she couldn’t go back. Only part of her ever wanted to.
“What a little rebel.” Using one finger, he tilted up her chin. “How’d you get by?”
“I lived with another member who’d left the church until I graduated from high school. Then I put myself through college. College would also have been off-limits if I’d stayed at home, by the way.”
“What about sex?”
She arched her eyebrows. “What about it?”
“With restrictions that limit everything else that’s enjoyable in life, I would expect your religion to have strict rules regarding intercourse.”
“‘Neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men kept for unnatural purposes, nor men who lie with men, nor thieves, nor greedy persons, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the Kingdom of God.’
“I’ve read that somewhere,” he said with half a smile.
“First Corinthians.”
A nod told her he knew as much. “You’re well versed.”
“I had no choice. It was memorize the Bible or get a whipping.”
“Spare the rod, spoil the child.”
“Something like that.” She noticed Sarah watching them from behind a knot of men and couldn’t help wondering what she was thinking.
“We as Covenanters have no need to control the minutiae of another person’s life. We offer freedom, patience, love.” He motioned at everyone around them. “You’d like it here.”
“You don’t agree with the Bible?”