The Playboy Takes a Wife. Crystal Green

The Playboy Takes a Wife - Crystal  Green


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up a good contest, Sister Elisabeth.”

      “I always do.” The nun looked like some kind of cherub as she rolled her eyes in resignation.

      The new woman walked toward Gabriel. The boy was fairly hopping with excitement at her presence.

      “You having fun with your friend?” she asked, frowning slightly at the boy’s drenched clothing.

      Gabriel reached out for a hug. The woman freely gave it to him, not seeming to mind that she would be dampened, too. When she pulled away, Lucas tried to keep his eyes off a wet blouse that was now hinting at the lines of a simple slip underneath.

      Future nun, nun, nun, he told himself.

      After she helped Gabriel down from the bench, it took her only a few seconds to realize that she was less than fully covered and she awkwardly crossed her arms over her chest. Good thing, too, because Lucas had been dreading having to embarrass her by pointing it out. It’d been tough enough to keep his gaze averted.

      “Gabriel,” the nun named Sister Maria-Rosa said, “we need to change your clothing now.” She sighed. “What are we going to do with you?”

      The novice stepped forward, arms still protecting her front. “I can—”

      “No, Alicia—” Sister Elisabeth said, gently taking Gabriel by the hand and leading him away “—You already have many responsibilities. Don’t worry about Gabriel.”

      They hadn’t addressed her as “Sister,” but maybe that was typical for a wannabe.

      The nuns nodded at this woman named Alicia—a four-syllable name as opposed to three, Lucas noted—as they left. The little boy turned around and waved back at them.

      “Adiós, Miss Alicia. Bye-bye, man.”

      Lucas waved, too, along with four-syllable Alicia.

      “He’s really a good boy.” She looked at him, blushing an even deeper red, then glanced away. “Most of the time.”

      Lucas didn’t know what to say, because if Gabriel was anything like him, as he suspected, she was dead wrong.

      “But you were handling him very well,” she said, raising a brow and grinning.

      Damn.

      He laughed, just to set himself back to balance again, to send away the thrust of a taboo attraction. “But I don’t have to control him twenty-four hours a day.”

      Her face fell, and he realized that maybe she’d been sizing him up for a possible adoption.

      Right. Him. That was a funny one.

      He shrugged off his coat and offered it to her. With a grateful nod, Alicia took it.

      “You don’t mind?” she asked. “I don’t have an extra change of clothes here and—”

      “I don’t mind a bit.” Well, yeah, actually, the hound in him did mind, but Lucas wasn’t about to admit to any carnal thoughts around someone bound for the church.

      “Thank you.” She put it on, bringing an end to the best thing that had happened to Lucas all day.

      She tilted her head, gauging him again. Then, as if he’d passed some kind of test, she stuck her hand out.

      “I’m Alicia Sanchez and I’ll be your group’s guide and hostess. We’re so pleased to have you at Refugio Salvo, sir.”

      As he took her hand in his for a greeting, his skin tingled, sizzled.

      Attracted to an angel, he thought. It was definitely something new, even for him.

      * * *

      As the stranger’s hand enclosed hers, Alicia’s heart kicked at her chest. It’d been doing that since the first instant she’d seen him, and she still hadn’t recovered.

      Unable to get enough of looking at him, she noted every detail: Fancy tie, shirt, shoes. Well groomed. His jacket smelled good, too, like spicy soap, clean and heady.

      He was a lot taller, so much that she was forced to lift her chin to meet his gaze. The color of his eyes startled her—a deep violet, just like the flowers that had grown in the small garden of her abuelita’s house back in San Diego. His light brown hair was a little long and ruffled, carefree in the breeze. His body…

      Alicia tried not to look, but she couldn’t help noticing that he was strong, wide-shouldered and muscled like an athlete.

      His grip tightened, and she realized that she’d been staring, her skin goose-bumped and flushed from the inside out.

      Quickly, she let go of him, gaze trained on the ground. She shoved the hand that had been holding his, into a jacket pocket, wishing it would stop blazing with heat.

      Then, donning a civil expression, she distanced herself from the visitor. Right away she saw the glimmer in his eyes fade a little, as if he were second-guessing something. Then he also took a step backward.

      “You’re with the billionaire?” she asked, making conversation. Easy enough, with his affable personality.

      It was obvious that he was here with Lucas Chandler. She knew the reporters were out in front now, taking pictures and asking questions before they all came inside Refugio Salvo. But why wasn’t he with the rest of the crowd?

      He gave her an odd glance, then sent her a high-wattage smile in answer. She just about pooled into herself right then and there. What was happening? Dizziness, flushed skin, a giddiness she couldn’t explain…

      “I’m looking forward to meeting him,” she said, ignoring the blasts of heightened awareness shooting through her.

      “Because he’s so handsome?” He was teasing.

      “Well, that’s what the female cooks here say, among other things.”

      Cocking an eyebrow, he sat on a bench, looking pretty entertained with her comment. “They say that, do they?”

      “It’s not all that important. I’m not one for TV or tabloid nonsense, anyway. But still…” She blushed, laughing at her all-too-human curiosity. “I am wondering about him.”

      Especially because he had money. Wait—that sounded wrong. It wasn’t that she wanted any of it. If Mr. Chandler were in another charitable mood, the orphanage itself would be much better off after another donation.

      He was smiling at her again. Dimples. My, my.

      They were such nice, deep dimples. Semitrucks could park in them.

      Yet…was this man sort of flirting with her? Alicia wasn’t sure, but she should put a stop to it. Now. No, really, now. She wasn’t a nun, but she might as well have been with all the promises she’d made to herself. No sex before marriage—never again. As a volunteer who worked side by side with the women of Our Lady of the Lost Souls at the orphanage, she did her best to be a good role model for the children.

      And then there was also a very personal need to remain chaste….

      “So the nuns volunteer at the orphanage, too?” he added, interrupting her musings.

      Press time. She put on her best PR voice. “Yes, the order teaches academics and sees to the boys’ spiritual needs. Regular workers—” like her “—run the facility and oversee the ranch work since each boy, whether he’s just old enough to start chores or mature enough to work with the horses, has scheduled responsibilities and training.”

      “You’re all a very caring group of people.”

      Why did he suddenly seem so…sad? Or did he look guilty? Alicia couldn’t be sure.

      The splashing of the fountain became the only sound. She rushed to cover the tension, wanting everything to run smoothly.

      “It’s our pleasure,” Alicia


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