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Back at the rectory, he spent the rest of the day and much of the night in prayer.

The next day, Father Fillipo Gianelli made an appointment with the bishop, who heard his confession. He didn't leave anything out.

The bishop absolved him of his sins; gave him penance and counseled him on the sins of the flesh; impure thoughts and reminded him of his vows of celibacy.

For the next few months, Fillipo fought off those impure thoughts; fought off thoughts of Bettina, Concetta and Cornelia. For the most part except at Mass, church events or in the confessional he never saw those women again.

However, the rumors and gossip about him swirled underground throughout the parish. Six months after his visit with Cornelia Migliore at her dairy farm, he was hearing confession.

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. Don Fillipo, it is me, Azzurra."

His heart raced. It was Azzurra Amoruso who was his first and only love. The girl he thought he'd marry when he was called to the priesthood.

That was almost ten years ago. He saw her at Mass and around Arenzano; she was as gorgeous as she was when she was eighteen, but now she was a woman and not a girl. By any measure, she was the most beautiful woman not just in Arenzano, but in the entire region; perhaps all of Italy.

It wasn't just her perfect tits and great ass, that Fillipo Gianelli had known so well; it was that she dressed impeccably. It wasn't that she was flaunting her assets, it was that she was a young Italian woman, who knew how to carry herself in public.

She didn't confess her sins. "Don Fillipo, I hear the rumors. I cry myself to sleep every night. You go with other women. Why not me? I have not married. You've heard my confession numerous times. You know I have not been with a man since you left for the seminary. I'm still waiting for you, Don Fillipo."

He couldn't see her tears, but heard her crying in the confessional.

"Signora, you must go on with your life. What you are asking is not possible."

"Father Gianelli, since I was last with you, you know what I mean, I've prayed every night for a miracle. I will keep praying for that miracle." Azzurra Amoruso ran out of the confessional in tears.

You might think that was the end of it.

There were other confessions to hear. There was a sermon to prepare for tomorrow's Mass. There were his other duties in the parish, but he couldn't get Azzurra out of his mind. Day and night; night and day, she was always there.

He started thinking; researching, making plans. He needed to move quickly. What if she took his advice and moved on with her life? Met a man? Got married? Moved away?

He decided that Milano was his destination. It wasn't too far and was big enough for someone like him to get lost in the population. He'd thought of Marseilles, but language would be a problem.

Father Gianelli did not take a vow of poverty, but a parish priest in Italy didn't make much money. He'd have to be frugal until he found work. Work? He'd never really worked, had he?

He'd spring it on Azzurra suddenly. It had to be that way. He couldn't take the chance she'd even accidentally share what he told her.

He waited until she came to confession again; specifically, his confessional. "Bless me Father, for I have sinned."

Father Gianelli's heart raced. He'd been waiting for this moment for a

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