If Darryl had anticipated an argument from the stunning nun, he'd calculated erroneously, for she ushered them inside without comment, other than to bid Sawyer close the door behind them. In her hand, she held a lit candle, shielding it from the momentary breeze their arrival had stirred.
"Some things never change, do they, Sawyer?" Sister Sue's smile was dazzling; Darryl wondered if she'd been a cover model in her other life, before she became a bride of Christ. He also wondered what her relationship with the sexy Sawyer was.
Take a deep breath and try to come back to reality.
Before he completely lost it over this virtual stranger. Assuming it wasn't too late already.
"Could be," Sawyer replied enigmatically. "Maybe you're thinking of when we were in school." He offered her a cheeky smile which made Darryl ache on the inside, almost painfully.
The nun slapped Sawyer lightly on his arm, mindful of the candle. "It's always the same with you, don't even tell me it's not. And you don't fool me with that I want to use your phone crap, either. You're never without your cell. You want a favor, don't you? C'mon."
Without waiting for a response, she led them into the church itself. Darryl was amazed at the size of the place; from the outside it hadn't looked near this big. He'd never seen such beautiful stained glass in his life. And the statuary... It appeared to be almost lifelike, exquisitely carved from the most beautiful materials he could imagine—translucent alabaster and what appeared to be Carrara marble.
He was drawn to one statue in particular; it was almost hidden behind a Corinthian column. The handsome face of the statue held a distinct resemblance to... He glanced between the marble and Sawyer with undisguised confusion.
Sawyer simply smiled and reached for Darryl's hand. He gave it willingly.
Sister Sue led them to the back of the church, behind the altar, pulling back a beautiful Flemish tapestry to reveal a door recessed so cleverly it was almost invisible to the naked eye. From there she proceeded to take them into a private room, paneled in rich dark mahogany, even finer tapestries strewn about its walls. Not to mention ornamental pieces in gold and silver and beautiful jewel tones. She waved them into chairs, taking her place behind an ornate desk.
Darryl took a seat, almost sinking into the soft leather of the well-upholstered armchair, while Sawyer went directly to a cabinet, removing a cut-glass decanter. He turned toward Sister Sue. "Two or three?" he inquired.
"What do you think?"
He brought out three fluted glasses, set them on the rich wood, and began to pour the dark liquid. The liquor reminded Darryl of the color of night itself, rich and soft and velvety. He hadn't known fluids could assume such mysterious hues. "What is this?" he asked, but received no immediate answer.
Sawyer placed one glass into the nun's outstretched hand, before pulling his chair very close to Darryl's, as close as he could manage without being in his lap. He took a seat, handed Darryl a glass of the divine elixir, but before he could drink, the beautiful blond had twined his arm through Darryl's, bringing his own glass to his lips.
