and her child, their heads bent in prayer.
“Can I help you?”
The warm huskiness of the masculine voice froze her in place. The timbre was that of a phone sex operator, which put it seriously out of its element in a church.
Curious, Eve pivoted to face the source.
She was startled to discover a portly balding man in a priest collar. “Hi,” she managed through her stupefaction.
“Hello,” he replied.
Not the same voice. She frowned.
“I’m Father Simmons. This is Father Riesgo.” The priest gestured behind her and Eve canted her body to see whom he referred to.
She almost gaped, but caught herself in time. “Father.”
Younger than Father Simmons by a good two decades, Father Riesgo looked so fish-out-of-water in the collar that it seemed more of a costume than anything else. His features were rugged and blunt, his green eyes extraordinary, his cheek marred by a scar she guessed came courtesy of a knife blade. With his dark hair slicked back in a short tail, he seemed more renegade than missionary.
“Hello.” He smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. “How can I help you?”
“I need a Bible.”
Both priests blinked, as if taken aback. She inwardly kicked herself for being an idiot. So her father didn’t own a Bible and her mother’s was written in kanji. She should have headed to the bookstore, not driven around aimlessly until she found a church in which to give her moronic tendencies free rein.
Father Simmons set his hand on Father Riesgo’s shoulder and said, “I will begin preparations.”
As odd as her day had been so far, the fact that she’d been left to the care of Father Riesgo was not inconsequential. Perhaps they thought she was a nut who might require some muscle to get rid of. Eve couldn’t decide if that was funny or sad.
Riesgo nodded and waited until the other priest had moved out of earshot. Then he returned his attention to Eve and studied her for a long moment. “What’s your name?”
She winced and extended her hand. “Sorry. Evangeline Hollis.”
“Ms. Hollis. It’s a plea sure to meet you.” His grip was strong and bold, like the rest of him. He gestured to the nearest pew, but she shook her head. “Okay,” he agreed, in that sinful voice. “Are you a member of this parish?”
“To be honest, Father, I’m not even Catholic.”
“Why come here, then? To St. Mary’s?”
She hesitated a moment, reluctant to display any further stupidity. Riesgo was the kind of man one approached without facetiousness. His green eyes seemed to take in everything with a laserlike intensity, and the set of his square jaw warned against subterfuge. But in the end, Eve went with the truth simply because that was her nature. “I’m not sure. I’d like to refresh my memory about some biblical stories, particularly the one about Cain and Abel, and I realized I don’t own a Bible. This building just happened to cross my path at the wrong time.”
“Perhaps it wasn’t wrong.”
Eve took a tentative sidestep toward the door.
Riesgo stepped as well, keeping abreast of her. “We offer classes, Ms. Hollis. The Rite of Christian Initiation. We would love to have you participate. For many, the Bible is a journey that needs a guide. I wouldn’t want you to feel lost or overwhelmed.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m not interested in joining the church. I just need a research source.”
Riesgo’s smile returned. “Wal-Mart sells Bibles. They’re priced around five dollars, I believe.”
“Of course.” She mentally kicked herself. “I should have thought of that. Thank you.”
Eve continued to edge her way toward the door.
Father Riesgo kept pace, grinning. “Ms. Hollis?”
“Yes?”
He reached into his pocket and held a business card out to her. “If you have any questions, please feel free to contact us here.”
“You’re too kind.” She accepted the card only in the name of politeness. “There are churches closer to me, so I doubt I’ll be bothering you again.”
Father Riesgo was disconcerting by nature, but when his focus narrowed, the intensity was arresting. He wasn’t handsome by standard definition, but charisma . . .he had it in spades. Combined with the husky voice, he probably lured a ton of women to mass.
“Hmm . . .” His skeptical hum made her slightly defensive.
“I have a bad sense of direction.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. You’re looking for answers, and your search brought you here. Would you mind waiting a moment? I have something for you.”
“I’m in a hurry,” she demurred, fearing a long lecture and hard sell ahead of her.
“A minute