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Maybe he was trying to make up for something he felt badly about, just as she was. Maybe he was attempting to find purpose, too. But there was one thing she could guarantee: his trip to Refugio Salvo hadn’t been designed to allow him to hide from the reality of a life left behind. That was her own cross to bear.
Her father…her mother…her shameful past.
Many times she’d even wondered if the piety she’d been raised with was forcing her to punish herself for how she’d been born. For her parents’ carnal crimes that her abuelo had told her about. There were so many times she thought that the circumstances of her birth made her less of a person….
Mr. Chandler had grown quiet in his own right as he gauged the land with narrowed eyes. He wore an expression that gave her pause—so serious, his brows drawn together, his lips tight.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“I’m just now realizing how much can still be done.” A beat passed, then a mirthless grin settled on his mouth. “Now that the camera flashes have worn off, it’s a clearer view.”
“You’ve been a true supporter,” she repeated. But somehow she doubted it was getting through to him.
“I haven’t contributed half as much as you, and that’s humbling, Alicia.”
For a naked second, she thought she saw a chink in his armor. She’d detected it yesterday, too, but he’d closed it up so fast that it’d almost been subliminal.
“As long as we all do our part,” she said, “the children will flourish, Mr. Chandler.”
“Lucas. Just call me Lucas.”
They resumed their ride, neither of them speaking. He was back to that thinker’s pose, and she wondered what exactly was causing all the seriousness. He seemed to catch on to this, because before she could take her next breath, he sent a sudden, devilish grin to her, encouraging his mount to a trot.
What had that sudden change of mood been about?
Not to be outdone, Alicia urged Pancho ahead, laughing, then hunching over her horse’s neck and signaling him to a gallop.
Almost immediately he did the same, until they were neck and neck, flying over the grass.
A bubble of amusement expanded in Alicia’s chest, then popped. She urged Pancho on and soon she realized that Lucas was veering toward a massive oak tree, its bare branches spread like a canopy, a haven from the mild sun.
When they got closer, she saw that there was a picnic table covered with a red-and-white-checked cloth. Silver bowls and a vase of wildflowers dominated the china.
Flabbergasted, she dismounted, cooling Pancho down. Lucas followed her example, and she couldn’t help glancing at the spread with contained anticipation.
Laughing at her obvious impatience, he came and took Pancho’s reins, allowing her to sprint to the table to finally get a closer look.
When the horses had been taken care of, Lucas sauntered over, having given them freedom in the grass.
“A picnic?” she said, her heart just now returning to a semblance of normal thud, thud, thuds.
Then again, with every step he took closer, her pulse started picking up again.
“It’s snack time.” He went over to a silver bowl on top of a smaller table and washed his hands, drying them off with a fluffy towel. “Come and get cleaned up. I thought you might enjoy something flown in from Bella Sofia. It’s an Italian restaurant I like in San Diego. You enjoy Italian?”
“Who doesn’t?” Still stunned, she moved over to her own silver bowl, the rim delicately etched with flowered patterns. It was filled with water, a lemon wedge floating on the surface. After washing, she used that fluffy towel, sighing at the softness of it. She’d never felt a towel so lovely.
“I also had the restaurant cater the boys’ meals today,” Lucas said. “And the workers will get their fill. Got to share a good thing.”
Touched by his thoughtfulness, she came to the picnic table, where he helped her onto the bench just as if they were in a fancy restaurant and he was pulling out her chair.
What was really going on? Was he kind of flirting, just like yesterday? Or was this just an expression of appreciation for showing him around today? Or maybe he was hoping she’d brag about his kindness to reporters after he’d left?
All these questions she had. Couldn’t he just make a nice gesture without any cameras around and that was that?
She decided that he was treating her out of the goodness of his heart. Just seeing how much he’d enjoyed and been genuinely taken with Gabriel and the other children yesterday told her that his gestures came from a decent place.
Integrity, she thought. Even with Lucas’s reputation, she wanted to believe that he really did have it. In fact, ever since her abuelo had told her the truth about her father and mother—how Alicia was the product of a sleazy one-night stand, how they had both deserted her because neither of them had been responsible enough to even raise a child—she’d searched for it. The possibility of finding some in a person like Lucas Chandler made her want to grab on, allowing it to pull her out from all the layers of mortification she was buried under.
He was taking a bottle of wine out of a basket. “Comte Armand, a wonderful burgundy.”
“I don’t—”
“Drink?” Shooting her a teasing grin, he tugged another bottle out of the ice bucket, deserting the more expensive wine. “Or there’s always sparkling cider. I got it for variety.”
Touched, Alicia fingered the flower vase in the middle of the table. “You think of everything.”
“All your hard work deserves a treat.”
He poured for her, then him, then opened a silver-lined cooler—a heater, really—and presented her with a basket of breads. She took one with cheese melted over the top while he poured oil and vinegar onto a side plate.
The cheese, tinted with garlic and herbs, made her close her eyes in pure pleasure.
Too decadent for her…usually. But why shouldn’t she enjoy it while it lasted?
She opened her eyes to find him watching her. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was taking as much happiness as she was out of her meal. Warmed by his interest, Alicia shivered.
He doled out the salad for her. “Want to know what surprised me yesterday, among other things?”
“I can’t even begin to guess.”
“That mojo you seem to have going with our friend Gabe. He got pretty upset at the end of the day, but you seemed to know just how to handle him.”
At Gabriel’s name, Alicia pepped up. “From the day he came to the orphanage I’ve worked extra hard to win him over. He’s come around, but you should’ve seen him before.”
“Even more hyper?” Lucas hadn’t said it unkindly at all. In fact, she suspected he had a tiny soft spot for Gabriel’s vivacious spark, just as she did.
“He is active.” She tossed her salad with a fork. “He always has been. But, at first he exhibited a mean streak, lashing out at the other children and the workers, throwing tantrums. He feels more comfortable now that he knows there are constant people in his life, thank goodness. And that’s exactly what he needed—security. We don’t know much about him except that he’d been abandoned by his parents so his trust is shaky.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw, and she didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that he was disturbed by the boy’s background.
Welcome to life, she thought.
“You know,” she added, “yesterday was a good day for him, but he still has his moments. We’ve had a part-time counselor who’s seen him, so that helps, but in the long run he’ll need a special family to give him a lot of attention and love.”
A shot of panic seized her at the thought of him ever leaving. She’d become attached to the child and she knew it wasn’t smart, but it’d just happened. He was charming and ultralovable; that was a part of his mercurial personality, though. He was a challenge her heart couldn’t resist, because every time he needed reassurance or extra affection, she felt the responsibility to give it.
“I think,” Lucas said, “we all need special families.”
When he caught her understanding glance, he polished off his salad, not looking at her.
He seemed on the brink of saying something else, so she kept her tongue. A few seconds later, he laid down his fork, appearing so serious that she stopped eating.
“Have you ever thought—maybe one day when you’re ready, I mean—of adopting? That’s if you even want a family…”
He watched her intently.
“Yes.” She hadn’t even hesitated. If she could make sure a child like Gabriel grew up with people who adored him—people like her—she’d do it. Trouble was, everyone at Refugio Salvo thought the boy would be a tougher child to adopt out than most. He might always be passed over for the quieter ones and never even have the chance for a normal life out of the orphanage.
“I’d give anything to have a family again,” she added.
“Your grandparents and parents…you miss them a lot. That’s real obvious.”
A pang of loss hit her square in the chest. He had no idea how much she wanted a group of people to surround her with love.
She blurted out her next heartfelt words before she even realized she’d said them. “Truthfully, all I want is a family. I even have dreams of children, especially the ones who are already born and need parents.”
“That makes sense. I can see you and Gabriel together.”
She had to fight a lump in her throat before she could answer. “Me, too. I can imagine that very clearly. But first, before any children, there’s a husband….”
Silence emphasized the moan of wind through the branches as she concentrated on her food. Admitting her dreams out loud had made them all the more distant. For her, a family would also include a partner, because she believed in raising children the traditional two-parent way.
Too bad she couldn’t adopt a man who would love her and bring back her dignity, too.
Avoiding any further revelations, she glanced at Lucas, who was considering her with a scrutiny that dug into her.
“And how about you?” she asked, returning the conversation to lightness. “Would Lucas Chandler, the big tycoon, ever consider adopting?”
At her question, he became even more intense, leaning on the table, his posture deceptively casual. “Only under the right circumstances.”
Why did that sound as if he could mean so much more?
And why, Alicia asked herself with a growing mixture of trepidation and excitement, was she hoping he was back to flirting with her again?
Alicia took another bite of her salad instead of responding, but Lucas waited her out, using the opportunity to absorb her. She was wearing another prim, neat white blouse with short sleeves and crisp jeans to ride in.
The charms on her silver bracelet sang with her every move.
Anxiety throttled him again and he shifted on the bench. He still hadn’t come to any conclusions about David’s plan, but Lucas couldn’t help feeling out Alicia, anyway. Why not? His desire to gain stature was probably going to force him into some kind of other PR relationship, anyway—he might as well admit it. He wanted the respect badly…so badly he could taste it.
So he filed away the information about her really, really wanting a family. She was a good woman who would make a good mother. Extra PR points for that—
He cut off the thought, disgusted with himself for even musing about it.
When Alicia finished her salad, Lucas brought out the next course, fettuccine slathered with a creamy marinara and topped with honey ricotta. Heaven.
She must’ve thought so, too, because the first bite caused her to do a little wiggly dance in her seat. Damn, it was cute.
“Know something?” he said. “I’m pretty surprised you’re not giving me the hard sell about adopting one of the boys now, like a spokeswoman usually would. I get the feeling you’d normally never let this chance go with anyone else who’d visit the property.”
“It shouldn’t be a pressured decision, Mr…Lucas.” She smiled. “If adopting was in your heart, then you won’t need to be talked into making it happen.”
Ouch. But he recovered because he had to. “I think you just know when to let something lie.”
She took a sip of her sparkling cider, then slowly put it down. “My grandparents taught me how to do that. They were full of good advice and lessons to learn from.”
Lucas thought about his own family. He’d learned by example from them, too, except it was to do the opposite of whatever his dad did.
“We weren’t very well off,” she added, “but my grandparents scraped up enough money to give me a great home and an education. I realized from them what was important in life—the basics. And they showed me it was necessary to be thankful for every one of them.”
“College.” He was genuinely interested to hear more about her. “Where did you go?”
“Oh, just a community school. And it turned out that it wasn’t for me. So I decided to work as a receptionist and contribute to the household, just as I did when I worked waitressing jobs in high school until I knew what I wanted. But eventually my abuelo died.”
A shadow seemed to pass over her face as she returned to eating.
She hadn’t explained anything, really, had she?
“And how did you become the philanthropist you are today?” she asked, clearly changing the subject.
“Oh, you know…” He twirled some noodles onto his fork. “The usual rich-kid tales. The best schools, the best of everything. My mom divorced me and my dad when I was real young. She decided life as a socialite was too empty and she took off for parts unknown to take advantage of her anthropology degree, doing lots of fieldwork, from what I understand.”
“You don’t talk to her?”
“Occasionally.” When Lucas took a bite, the food was suddenly tasteless. “She attempts to make contact from each of her research locations but, more often than not, she’s in a village with no modern technology and bad cell-phone reception.”
“So you don’t know her very well.” Alicia’s soft gaze was sympathetic.
“Right. But that’s okay. I’ve had a lot of stepmoms to take her place. Four, by my last count.”
“Four? Are you close to any of them?”
“Nope. I did get a half brother out of the deal, though. Luckily, he’s the only other child my dad bothered to have. Unleashing two cynical Chandler boys into society is enough.”
“Cynical.” Alicia laughed. “You?”
She wasn’t being sarcastic. Not this straightforward woman who barely knew him. It was a nice change of pace for once.
“I’m afraid so. See, we were raised by a man who values cold, hard success above everything.”
Alicia tipped her glass to her mouth, the rim resting against her bottom lip. Lucas found himself leaning closer, envying the glass.
She finally took another sip, ending his reverie.
“So, am I to think that your father soured you on marriage?”
Her words were a punch to the gut.
