Page 52 of Angel In Armani

“You want me to believe that women don’t swarm around the good-looking rich doctor?”

He shrugged. “Swarm is an overstatement. I’m not a monk, if that’s what you’re asking. But neither am I a…” He trailed off, seemingly searching for the word.

“Womanizing jerk? Cad?”

“Cad?” He grinned again. “Are we in a Regency romance?”

That raised her eyebrows. “What do you know about the Regency?”

“I’ve read Pride and Prejudice.”

“You have?” She was impressed. In the army she’d known guys who had her appetite for books but their tastes, on the whole, tended toward thrillers and mysteries and science fiction. She’d never met a guy who’d read Austen. Or one who admitted it, at least.

“High school?”

“English lit in college. It was compulsory. But I liked it.”

“You did?”

“Yes. I even read Emma and Sense and Sensibility.”

Now she was fascinated despite herself. “Which is your favorite?”

“Probably Pride and Prejudice. I like Lizzy. Emma’s naive and Elinor’s a bit stuffy. Lizzy is just trying to be herself and look after her family. What about you? Are you a Darcy fan?”

“I have kind of a soft spot for Knightley, actually.” She was a Darcy fan, actually, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. The perfect rich guy who seemed standoffish and then turned out to be a true gentleman and all-around good guy seemed a little bit too close to the reality at the moment. And she didn’t want Lucas thinking that she wanted a rich guy to ride in and save her.

“Knightley.” He studied her a moment. “Knightley sees Emma’s faults and loves her anyway,” he said. “Isn’t that a bit foolish?”

“No, it’s what love really is, isn’t it? Loving the real person. Knightley saw what Emma could really be.” She shifted in her seat, suddenly wondering if this conversation was revealing too much. “I thought we were talking about your baby pitchers.”

“But you don’t like baseball.”

But I like you. She didn’t say the words. Because she wasn’t ready to admit it to herself, really, let alone to Lucas. He’d asked her to dinner, true, said he couldn’t forget her, but it could all be a line. He could just want more sex and then he’d ride off into the sunset in his Mercedes or Porsche or whatever ridiculously expensive car it was that he drove.

The waiter appeared with their entrées and Sara waited while he arranged the plates in front of them. The bread and dip had taken the edge off her appetite so she didn’t pick up her fork as he left them alone again. “So. Baseball. I don’t know a lot about it. What I saw in Florida was okay. Maybe I’d like it if I knew more.”

“I think people who like sports tend to know it.”

“I’ve seen Field of Dreams,” she offered. “Kevin Costner was hot.”

He laughed again. “As much as my life would be easier if the Saints had a magic baseball park in a field of corn, the reality is a lot more prosaic.”

“Damn, I only took the job for Kevin and James Earl Jones.”

“Sorry to disappoint. But to come back to your original question, no, we haven’t made any final decisions. I like that Sam guy, though. He’s hungry. And good.”

“He’s pretty young. Wouldn’t coming to play for you mean dropping out of college?”

Lucas nodded. “Yes, but that’s the nature of the beast. MLB doesn’t leave a lot of time for things like studying on the side. That’s the problem with dreams, sometimes you have to make sacrifices.”

“Like commuting between New York and Orlando a couple of times a week? How do you do that and do your rich-doctor thing as well?”

“It’s only for a few months.” He speared a chunk of lamb and smiled at her. “And once you get to be good enough to be a rich doctor, there’s a certain amount of flexibility in your schedule.”

“I would have thought it just meant that you were more in demand than ever, if you’re really good,” Sara said.

“Yes, but I can control my workload to some extent.” He frowned, and she got the feeling that he wasn’t as blasé about doing just that as he was making out. She remembered how insistent he’d been on getting back to Manhattan to do his surgery on the figure skater. And how they’d cut the trip short this time. He was juggling things, that much was plain.

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