Joy Avery - Campaign For His Heart

Lauder had spoken the truth at the coffee shop. She hadn’t always hated him. That had happened when he’d taken her virginity and then told all of his friends. Then had the nerve to adamantly deny it—more like lie—to her face.

Hannah started again, drawing Willow’s attention.

Reaching for the piece, Hannah said, “Well, the brother is fine. If you don’t want him, I’ll gladly take him.”

Willow swatted Hannah away, surprised by her protectiveness over the bust. How in hell had she managed to sculpt an entire bust of Lauder without realizing it? This man was too much in her head, too potent in her thoughts. She had to stop thinking about him. But how, when his presence had opened a cavern of old memories? Some good, some not so good.

“Don’t let the strong jaw and perfect bone structure fool you. He’s the Antichrist,” Willow said, staring at the figure as if it were speaking to her. She felt like punching it in the face; however, since it was some of her best work, she refrained. But at that moment, she vowed to never think about Lauder Tolson again.

“Um, Willow?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“You might want to cover the Antichrist.”

Cover him? Hannah was being overdramatic. Lauder wasn’t that dang tempting. Willow tilted her head to one side and studied the sculpture. Actually, he was. Even in clay form, the man was beautiful. Ugh . Never thinking about him again , she reminded herself.

Lauder did foolish things to her system. Sinfully delicious things. Things that got her juices flowing. She made a mental note to call Reggie, her occasional friend with benefits. She needed his benefits tonight. That would help rid her system of Lauder Tolson.

“I don’t think covering him is necessary,” Willow said. “Now, had you said toss him in the trash, I could have supported that.”

“Nah, you should probably cover it. Apparently, someone left the gates of hell open. And look what just escaped. I might just be willing to sacrifice salvation for a night with that delicious devil.”

Willow glanced over her shoulder just as Lauder was being directed toward them. “What the hell—” She gasped. “No way.”

She frantically looked for something to conceal her rendition of him.

“Use your apron,” Hannah said out the side of her mouth.

Good idea . Willow fiddled with the strings. “Shoot. I can’t get it untied.”

“Oh, yeah. He wants you, Will. Look at how he’s undressing you with his eyes. He wants to blow your back completely out. And judging by those long, muscular legs, he could do just that. Lawd, I love a man in a tailored suit.”

Glancing up caused Willow to lose valuable time. Mainly because watching Lauder float toward them stalled her brain. As she raked her eyes over him, her stomach fluttered. Why did she keep responding to him?

Out of time, Willow blocked clay Lauder with her body as the real thing strolled inside the room. The idea that clay Lauder was staring at her ass made things even more awkward. What had she done to the universe to deserve such a disturbance in her life as Lauder?

One good thing came from Lauder’s approach. It shut Hannah up. When he nodded at Hannah, Willow thought the woman would split the corners of her mouth smiling so hard. Shameless , Willow thought until Lauder slid his gaze to her. The mild sensations she’d experienced moments ago blossomed into full-fledged lust convulsions.

“Willow.”

Lauder’s tone was so damn smooth, so damn steady, so damn confident one would think she’d actually invited him to invade her space. “Lauder.” Nope, her tone wasn’t smooth. Probably couldn’t be considered steady. Definitely wasn’t confident. But at least she’d managed not to moan. A triumph in her book. Small, but a win nonetheless.

When Lauder’s eyes lowered to her lips, a bout of nervous tension knotted her stomach. Why was he eyeballing her mouth? Her eyes were what he should have been focused on. They were the only things he would ever connect to.

Lauder’s eyes rose, and his lips curled slightly. “I found you.”

“I wasn’t lost.”

“We’ve all been lost at one point in our lives. Sometimes, we don’t even realize we’re waiting to be found.”

Willow’s eyes narrowed at him. What in hell does that mean? She didn’t bother asking him to elaborate, because she wasn’t interested in his cryptic logic.

“I really hope these sprinklers work,” Hannah said, eyeing overhead.

Willow scowled at her friend.

Hannah visually attempted to bite back a smile. “I’m going to give you two some priv—”

Willow’s scowl deepened, warning her against leaving the room.

“Like I said, I’ll be right over here.” Hannah pointed over her shoulder and backed away.

Refocusing on Lauder, Willow tried not to pay attention to how good he smelled. Like mature, sexy man. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Why?”

“Because you’re nice to look at.”

Hannah made some ridiculous sound that drew both their attentions. Yep, the woman was fired as her best friend. Although, she could admit—only to herself—that he was pleasant on the eyes, too.

“Well, thank you for stopping by to look at me, but I want to do you.”

Willow’s body went board stiff. There were a hundred ways she could have responded to her word blunder: sprint from the room like she was on fire, fake a blackout, slide a heated glance in an audibly tickled Hannah’s direction. Instead, her gaze remained pinned to Lauder’s. She straightened her spine, because that’s what a lady in complete control did. And she was in complete control. Completely.

Clearing her throat, she said, “I apologize. What I meant to say was I have work to do. I should show you out.”

Not bothering to wait for his response, she took off toward the door. Hannah’s warning—a sharp gasp—came a fraction too late. Willow realized the mistake she’d made.

“Huh. Damn, you are good with your hands.”

Lauder said it as if he’d discussed her abilities with someone. Again, straightening her spine, because that’s what a lady in—Oh, hell. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t in control. Hadn’t been since Lauder crashed into her world again. The best she could do was to pretend his presence had no effect on her.

Backtracking to join real Lauder staring at clay Lauder, she said, “I can explain that.”

“Oh, this should be good,” Hannah said just loud enough for Willow to hear.

Lauder lifted one of his large hands. For a brief second, a memory of how his hands used to explore her body—slowly, cautiously, thoroughly—played in her head. Stop it , she warned her defiant brain.

“No need. Obviously, you think I’m nice to look at, too,” Lauder said.

Willow barked a laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself. There’s a perfectly good explanation for this.”

Lauder folded his arms across his chest, causing his biceps to mushroom against the steel blue shirt he wore. The sight was like a magnet, and her eyes were drawn to it. At seventeen, his arms hadn’t been puny, but they hadn’t been sculpted like this, either. Clearly, he spent a lot of time in the gym.

“Okay. So...” Lauder said.

“So, what?” she said absently.

“So, what is the explanation?”

Willow released a nervous chuckle, sobered, then laughed. “I’m a forensic sculptor. This is what I do. I sculpt people.”

“Oh, I get that. But why did you sculpt me?”

Stay cool. You’ve got this. Don’t let him shake you . Play it cool . “Oh, you...you thought that was you?” Okay, so playing dumb was probably not the best strategy.