The 39-Year-Old Virgin

The 39-Year-Old Virgin
Marie Ferrarella

Литагент HarperCollins EUR

It was a big world out there…But was ex-nun Claire Santaniello ready for it? Her yearning for a home and family had her shedding her habit and moving back to California. But her true calling definitely wasn't with sexy single dad Caleb McClain. Was it? The stunning redhead seemed uncomfortable in the crowded bar. She was also tantalizingly familiar.Caleb couldn't believe the girl he'd once loved was now a teacher in their hometown. Soon after he rescued her from the dance floor, Claire made it her mission to bring out his softer side, arousing feelings Caleb couldn't ignore. Was it finally time for them to create the future together they both craved?

She’d never been kissed.

Until now.

Anything she might have imagined as a young girl didn’t even begin to scratch the surface. She felt disoriented and yet there was this wild rush inside her. And electricity. A great deal of electricity, crackling and humming between them. It took everything Claire had not to just fall into the kiss and remain there.

But she couldn’t. It wasn’t right. This wasn’t what she’d intended to happen.

Her breath felt trapped in her throat. And she was dizzy. She, who had never been lost for words, now felt as if she’d suddenly been struck dumb.

Dear Reader,

For those Catholic children whose parents couldn’t afford a parochial education, there was “religious instructions” or, as some of us called it, “catechism.” We studied our book, memorizing answers to questions just in case, when we finally made it up to the Pearly Gates, St. Peter decided to give us a quiz. We all went on Saturdays and Wednesdays. It was Wednesdays that made us a source of envy for the other students. They had to remain seated while we—they thought—ran off to freedom when the bell rang dismissing “all students attending religious instructions.” The truth was, we remained captives of these sharp-witted, often sharp-tongued ladies whose faces and hands were the only visible evidence that they were human rather than spirits sent by God to tidy up our immortal souls.

I don’t remember the questions or answers—hopefully St. Peter will be magnanimous—but I remember those ladies and how I wondered if they were happy. I actually had a Sister Michael. This is not her story, but it is the way I would have imagined it.

Thank you for reading and, as ever, I wish you love.

Marie Ferrarella

The 39-Year-Old Virgin

Marie Ferrarella

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

MARIE FERRARELLA

This USA TODAY bestselling and RITA

Award-winning author has written more than one hundred and seventy-five novels for Silhouette Books, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide. Visit her Web site at www.marieferrarella.com.

To

all the dedicated Dominican Sisters at St. Joseph’s in Queens, NY, who passed through my life

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter One

So this nun walks into a popular hot spot…

Ex-nun, Claire corrected herself silently. Dear God, what was she doing here, anyway?

The loud din of voices wedged itself into the throbbing music, forming one large wall of noise that seemed to swirl all around her. Thinking was becoming increasingly more difficult, never mind hearing and talking.

Claire supposed she was daring herself to forge ahead into the life she’d never previously sampled, the life she’d left behind.

Heaven knew that, although popular, she certainly hadn’t had more than her share of dates. Less would have been a better word to describe the condition of her social life at the time. Her popularity had a universal appeal. She’d been the one people always talked to, the one they wanted to hang out with. She was a “friend” with a capital F to all, no matter what gender.

The bottom line was that she’d never had a boyfriend, no steady male in her life to turn to, to nurture secret dreams about. There’d been no one to make her pulse race, her adrenaline flow. She’d never even had a crush, much less been in love.

Was it so wrong to want to discover what she’d missed?

Her fingertips tingled. She was nervous. Just as nervous as she’d been this afternoon when her cousin Nancy, Nancy of the comfortable life, loving husband and four children, had insisted on taking her shopping for not just something suitable to wear tonight, but for undergarments, as well.

“What’s wrong with what I have?” she’d asked.

“Nothing, if you want him immediately guessing that you were a nun.”

She’d discarded the see-through panties that Nancy held up, trying hard not to blush. “There’s not going to be a ‘him,’” she insisted.

“Uh-huh.” Picking up the panties again, along with two more just like them, Nancy grinned. “On me,” she announced, heading toward the register.