Joy Avery - Campaign For His Heart

Willow gasped. Lauder? What is he doing here?

Something ridiculous crossed her mind. Had he known she’d be there? No. How would he?

Willow’s eyes raked over him. If Hannah thought he looked scrumptious when he’d visited their office, the woman’s mouth would be watering now. Dressed in all black, with the top button of his shirt unfastened, he was so alluring that it was sickening.

She gnawed at the corner of her lip. It made no sense for one man to be so damn gorgeous. Even his body language—sure, confident, relaxed—made him attractive. While there were plenty of handsome men in attendance, Lauder was in a category all his very own. Obviously, she wasn’t the only woman affected by his magnetism. He practically had a harem of women surrounding him.

“Just look at him. Getting every panty in the room soaking wet,” Gloria said in a hushed tone.

Gloria was a mix of a prim and proper socialite and an unfiltered comedian. Judging by the dreamy-eyed women clinging to Lauder’s every word, Gloria was right about the panty thing. Willow didn’t want to be a casualty of whatever drug he was dispensing. But before she could devise an escape plan, Lauder slid his dangerously dark and daunting gaze in her direction.

The intensity of their connection caused her lips to part slightly, a stream of heated air escaping. She refused to label it a searing line of suppressed desire. Swallowing hard, she fought the need to turn away. And let Lauder think he had an effect on me? No way.

The faint furrow of his brow suggested he was just as surprised to see her as she’d been to see him. The straight line of his tempting lips slowly curled into a tantalizing smile. His intense scrutiny felt like delicate kisses feathering her skin. Just the thought of his mouth on her caused the space between her legs to tingle.

Why? She hadn’t known his touch in close to twenty years.

“Excuse me, ladies. Might I steal this handsome creature for a moment?” Gloria threaded her arm through Lauder’s and led him away. “Lauder, sweetie, between you and this pretty lady right here, y’all are going to cause a riot in here.”

Willow could feel Lauder’s eyes on her, but this time she refused to look in his direction.

“Lauder Tolson—future Senator Tolson—I’d like you to meet—”

“Willow Dawson,” Lauder said.

Gloria glanced from Lauder to Willow. “You two know each other?”

“Um...yes. We, um, we knew each other once. When we were younger.” Willow felt as if she were a specimen in a petri dish being scrutinized for the slightest change in composition.

Gloria smiled. “I see. Well, Lauder is one of the most generous contributors to A Hope for Home. And he donated one of his warehouses for us to use as a staging location.”

“Wow. A modern-day Robin Hood,” Willow said. Instantly, she regretted sounding so patronizing.

Gloria started to speak, but someone summoned her. “Excuse me. Got to go earn these zeros,” she said. “I’ll leave you two to catch up with one another.”

A beat of awkward silence lingered between Willow and Lauder. At least, awkward for her because his eyes fixed on her as if trying to read her mind. Oh, he really didn’t want to read her thoughts right now.

Deciding she’d be the bigger person, she said, “The Robin Hood comment... I didn’t mean to sound so—”

“Condescending?”

“Yes.” Another string of silence played between them, Lauder’s gaze never leaving her. “A Hope for Home is a great organization. How long have you been involved?” she asked.

“Since its inception, so a little over two years. Gloria can be very convincing, but when she told me the foundation intended to furnish the first permanent home for foster youth who’d aged out of the system, she had me. I’m too familiar with the struggle of trying to survive after foster care.”

The sadness that flashed in Lauder’s eyes stirred Willow’s curiosity. Had he gone through something? If he had, he’d clearly gotten through it okay.

“I usually never attend these things,” Lauder said.

They had that in common. Not that she was keeping a tally. “So how did you end up here tonight?”

“Something drew me here.”

A similar thing had happened to her, but she would never in a hundred years share that with him. The smile melted from Willow’s face, her stomach fluttering from the way Lauder eyed her. Was he insinuating she had led him here? How ridiculous. Lines like that probably worked on his other women, but it wouldn’t work on her. “Uh-huh. Well, if you’ll excuse me.”

Lauder flashed a half smile and gave a single nod. “It was nice seeing you again.”

Willow walked away without mirroring his sentiment, because it wasn’t nice seeing him again. In fact, she’d prefer to never see him again. Unfortunately, he seemed to keep popping up.

Not wanting Lauder to believe he’d run her off, she forced herself to stay at the event a little while longer. Despite her attempts to maintain a safe distance from the man who made her body hum, everywhere she turned Lauder was there. Looking like a ripe apple straight out of temptation’s orchard .

Was she crazy or did he seem determined to be near her? The fact that she found the idea faintly endearing angered her. What was he doing to her? And why in hell was she allowing it?

Lauder joined her at one of the fabric-draped highboy tables. “If we keep bumping into each other like this, I’m going to call it fate.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, some people would call it stalking.” She flashed a low-wattage smile.

He laughed a sweet, sexy sound that made her stomach quiver. Why? Why couldn’t she simply ignore him? Ignore his delicious scent, those hypnotizing eyes, that gobble-you-all-the-way-up mouth, the way he filled out that suit. What kind of sorcery was this man? Shaking some sense into herself, she dispelled the idea he’d cast some sort of seduction curse on her.

“Do you want to get out of here? Grab a coffee or dessert or something?”

Willow glanced to the overabundance of desserts on the long table several feet away, then to the coffee bar next to it. Eyeing Lauder again, she said, “I should really get home. I have—” she searched the depths of her brain “—church in the morning. Early in the morning. Like seven o’clock.” Lying on the Lord. Yep, she’d just secured herself a nice, hot front-row seat in hell. “Good night, Lauder.”

When she turned to leave, Lauder captured her arm. She gasped at the onset of tiny lightning bolts striking through her system. The raw intensity of his touch overtook her. And had she not placed a hand on the table, she was sure she would have toppled over.

Lauder’s tone was gentle when he spoke. “Willow, wait.”

He was in luck. She couldn’t budge, despite desperately wanting to sprint away from him, from this—the insanely powerful connection that had her rooted to the floor. Maybe he was the energy she’d felt earlier. Not the entire room. Just one man.

Drawing in a deep breath, she spoke over her shoulder. “What do you want, Lauder?”

“You.”

That was the last answer in the world she’d expected and not one she wanted to hear.

* * *

It was a long while before Willow turned to face him, but when she did, Lauder could tell he’d stunned her. Hell, he’d stunned himself. Yes, he’d been thinking the word you , just hadn’t meant to say it aloud. Or had he?

Truth be told, he did want her. Wanted her in the best and worst ways imaginable. Wanted to yank her into his arms and kiss her like a madman. Wanted to strip her out of that curve-hugging dress that made the sexually deprived beast inside him ravenous with desire. Wanted to explore every inch of her with his tongue. Wanted to taste and savor her essence. And after all of that, he wanted to make slow, passionate love to her. All. Night. Long.