Page 50 of The Love of Priest 2

They enjoyed two glasses of champagne before dinner was served for them.

Their plates were decorated with neatly placed mounds of rice and lobster.

Priest had planned this outing perfectly, down to the very last detail.

Joining their hands together, Priest led the prayer.

She couldn't contain the smile on her face at the sound of him praising and thanking God for her.

He did this often, but this time around, he sounded as though he had a lot more conviction and passion in his voice.

Releasing each other’s hands after the prayer, the two dug into their food while enjoying some conversation. "You've gone above and beyond for this trip," she praised him.

"You do that every day for me. I know I can't always depend on gifts and luxurious experiences to repay you?—"

"Yes, you can," she jokingly interjected, causing him to laugh.

"I will, but what you do for me goes beyond stuff like this," Priest expressed his gratitude for her.

"I was just kidding," she clarified. "I'll do it all over again without all of this." She pointed down to the ring that graced her finger before gesturing around the room.

Priest nodded. "I know that."

He trusted Britain so much that there was no doubt in his mind about her.

She was sincere and genuine. What he loved about her was that she stepped into the relationship with no expectations or motives.

She wasn't searching for him to give her anything or build some sort of foundation for her.

When they met, she was standing on her own, and even though he felt like it was now his place to take care of her, he knew she didn't necessarily need him. That was a relief to Priest.

"Why are you staring like that?" A light laugh drifted out of her.

Priest’s broad shoulders shrugged. "You haven't been the same since I got shot, and it's like I'm trying to bring small pieces of your back, but I don't know how well that's going for me," he admitted, unloading a heavy conversation in the midst of their romantic dinner.

Indeed, Britain had been over the moon ecstatic during their trip; however, Priest knew her more than anything.

He had spent months on end studying her in every way possible.

She was now missing a part of herself, and he felt that he was to blame for that.

She sat her utensils down, rubbing her hands nervously down her thighs.

A look of sorrow webbed her eyes as she met his gaze.

"I saw what your mother said about me," she admitted to Priest. She knew he had a clear set of boundaries, and she wasn't supposed to be indulging in anything pertaining to his other life, but she couldn't contain herself.

How could he be so okay with withholding things from her?

Their relationship was built on transparency and honesty.

She didn't think these boundaries were set in place for the betterment of their relationship.

She thought they were implemented so he wouldn't have to deal with her grilling him about what was going on.

She could see the look of disappointment form on his face. He masked his clear frustration with a sigh and a light head nod.

"How?" he asked.

Priest knew that if they were back in New York, Britain wouldn't have had any issue getting her hands on the information she wanted to know, but they were all the way in Ibiza. He really thought he could protect her from the chaos until he handled it, but of course she managed to defy his desires.

Britain pursed her lips sheepishly. Admitting what she did to get the information she needed probably wasn’t going to be her finest hour, but she had to tell the truth now that he was asking. "You were asleep last night, and I got into your phone," she mumbled, clearly ashamed of herself.

"Britain," Priest let out in a chastising tone.

"I know, but this isn't the usual for us. You're making me feel like I have no other choice," she stressed.

Priest shook his head. "Brit, that's not what we agreed to.”

"Priest, I'm a reporter for God's sake. I made my big break by reporting on you," she reminded him.

"I understand you can't fight the urge to know, but at what point will you listen to me,Gioia?" He shook his head.

Britain sighed deeply. She knew she had ruined the mood of their romantic dinner just by the way the glow that had filled his orbs since they left New York had now diminished. "I do listen to you, Priest, but I don't agree with everything, and I think that's where we get our wires crossed.”

With a sigh, he shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what else to say to stress to you how important it is for you to stay out of things.”

She could see the stress she had caused him, which ultimately made her feel bad.

Rising from her seat, she made her way over to him.

Despite wanting to be stern with her, he wavered with one glance into her orbs, which were filled with sorrow.

He moved his seat back from the table, allowing her enough space to sit comfortably on his lap.

"I'm sorry," she apologized sincerely as she wrapped her arms loosely around his neck.

Priest had an unconvinced look etched on his face.

She was curious, and there was no way he could ever kill her curiosity.

That applied to everything. If she had questions or wanted to know something, she was bound to get to the bottom of it.

As much as he didn't like her going against him and what they agreed on, he couldn't necessarily fault her.

This was a part of her long before he came into the picture. He just had to accept it.

"I'm tired of giving you the same speech,Gioia . You can't handle it," he said to her while securing his arms around her waist.

Britain craned down, pecking hips tender lips lightly. "I think I can handle Sylvia and Paula bad mouthing me to the press," she scoffed arrogantly.

Priest's face screwed up. "Wait. What you mean Paula?" He furrowed his brows up at her.

Britain tilted her head to the side in some confusion. "You did watch the entire video, right?"

A guilty look spread across his face. "Nah, after Sylvia started to mention you, I just turned it off. The shit was pure nonsense," he shrugged dismissively.

"Well, Paula and Sylvia made a nice little alliance on your behalf," Britain muttered with a roll of her eyes. "And their rival just so happens to be me.”

Priest scoffed in deep annoyance at the fact that Paula had somehow still managed to nestle herself into one of the cracks in his life.

She was relentless at this point. Sylvia always had a like for Paula.

They were one in the same, so Priest wasn't surprised.

It was almost like the two discussed their motives for Priest and his finances with each other and promised not to get in each other's way.

"I'll take care of it," he assured Britain.

Britain nodded her head. Paula had a way of angering Priest like no other. Adding Sylvia to the mix only made his anger brew more. The two were in for something that neither could handle.

"See, it's a blessing in disguise that I watched that video. You're falling off your game, playa," Britain bragged as she smiled cheekily.

Priest shot her an unmoved stale face. "Shut up," he muttered, causing her to laugh.

He didn't want to admit it, but she was right. Paula aiding his mother would have gone completely over his head if Britain hadn't informed him. "Hear me out," she told him in a light voice before planting a gentle kiss on his neck. "I won't intervene, nor will I be overly emotional."

Priest's jaw clenched just as Britain began trailing her kisses up to his structured jaw line. "You can't control that," he rebutted.

"I can, and I will. Watch me." She lifted her head so he could see the arrogant smirk that graced her lips. Priest shot her a stern glare, causing her to lightly laugh. Ignoring his glares, her hands tracked underneath his shirt.

The feeling of her cold hands against his chest caused his dark orbs to sear into hers. "You're dangerous,Gioia." A deep chuckle rolled out of him as he shook his head.

Her hands slipped out of his shirt, trailing down to the waist of his jeans.

His bottom lip rested between his perfectly aligned set of teeth as his eyes filled with lust. "It's not fun if it's not dangerous," she laughed lightly.

"You taught me that, remember?" She leaned in closer, taunting him by hovering her plump lips over his.

Priest felt himself conceding to Britain and her arousing tactics, but then he caught himself. Leaning back slightly, he shook his head, causing a defeated look to smear across her face. "You thought you were about to seduce me into letting you win this fight?" he scoffed.

A pouty glare came onto her face as she rose from his lap.

Her arms were folded across her chest in a bratty manner as she made her way back to her seat.

Priest brought his chair closer to the table, grabbing his utensils before resuming eating his dinner.

"Now, we can have this conversation later so we can enjoy the romantic shit I set up for you," he stated as he shrugged his shoulders smugly.

As much as she wanted to continue to glare at him, Britain couldn't resist the laugh that overtook her. "I'm engaged to an asshole." She shook her head, playfully shaming him.

Priest eyed her in amusement as she picked up her utensils, returning to eating her food as well. "And you're hardheaded, so I think we're fucking even," he retorted in a jesting manner.

After wrapping up their dinner, he took Britain's hand, leading her to the upper level of the yacht.

She was in complete awe at the scenery Ibiza had to offer.

The deep blue waters drifted underneath them as eroded rocks piled on top of each other, standing tall within the ocean. It was simply gorgeous.