Читать книгу Campaign For His Heart - Joy Avery - Страница 14

Chapter 5

“You did what!” Hannah’s bright eyes glowed with excitement.

Willow flailed her arms in Hannah’s direction. “Shhh,” she warned, coming from behind her desk to close her office door. “Keep your voice down.” Willow peeped out to make sure no one was within earshot of them, then pushed the door shut. Facing Hannah, she rested a hand on her forehead and sighed heavily. “I kissed him. Like, really kissed him. I couldn’t stop kissing him.”

The second her lips touched Lauder’s it was like she’d had an out-of-body experience, as if she were hovering high above watching herself kiss Lauder, unable to stop. By the time she’d pulled away, her body was so electrified she thought the current would kill her.

“Was it good?” Hannah asked.

Willow attempted to bite back a smile, but it broke through. “It was fantastic.”

Hannah squealed. “Yes! I knew it. I knew you still had feelings for him. After all of these years apart, your heart still beats for your first.” She cupped her hands under her chin and went all dreamy eyed. “That’s so romantic.”

“Because I enjoyed a spine-tingling kiss way more than I should have doesn’t mean I’m still in love with Lauder Tolson. It’s been—” Willow paused, noting the odd look on Hannah’s face. “What?”

“Still?”

“What?”

“You said still in love with him. Meaning, at one point, you were in love with him.”

Willow released a shaky laugh and rubbed her shoulder. “I—I was sixteen. Of course I thought I was in love. Isn’t that what sixteen-year-old girls do? Fall recklessly in love with bad boys?”

“Yes, reckless sixteen-year-olds. Since we met freshman year of college, you’ve always been ordered, in control, methodical.”

Never been reckless? Then how did Hannah explain her agreeing to play Lauder’s fake lover? In her opinion, that was as reckless as you could get. She reminded herself why she was doing it. The idea of becoming a mother made her decision less daunting.

Hannah smiled. “How long have we known each other?”

“Over ten—”

“Yep, over ten years,” Hannah said, cutting Willow off. “So I know when you’re lying. Even when you’re not rubbing the brown off your shoulder.”

Willow allowed her arm to fall to her side. “I’m not—”

Hannah pinched Willow’s lips together. “Shush.”

Willow protested in an array of grunts.

“Shush,” Hannah repeated. “Are you listening?”

Defeated, Willow nodded her head. “Mmm-hmm.”

“Good. Let this thing between you and Lauder happen. You deserve a man like Lauder—fine as hell, rich and powerful. You deserve great sex—the kind that leaves you hobbling afterwards. And you definitely deserve love—the kind of love that will last an eternity.”

Willow hummed but.

“Shush. You’re going to go on your date with Lauder tomorrow night. You’re going to kick all caution to the wind. And you’re going to let. It. Happen.”

Another muffled but.

Hannah’s voice went from soft and sweet, to gruff and deep. “Let. It. Happen.”

Willow jerked. “Umph.” Then she nodded, because that was all she could do.

* * *

Twenty-four hours later, Willow stood in front of the full-length door mirror in her bedroom. Why in the heck was she so obsessed with her appearance for her date with Lauder? It wasn’t like she wanted to impress or entice him. And she definitely had no intentions of letting it happen. Regardless of what she’d agreed to under duress.

The elusive it made her think of the horror movie with the clown. What if tonight was just as terrifying? What had she gotten herself into? An evening with Lauder. Well, at least in a restaurant full of people, they wouldn’t be alone. That was a saving grace.

Why was she putting herself through this torture? Instead of jumping through hoops with Lauder, she could just let Reggie knock her up and forget about all of this fake lover business. No, she couldn’t imagine being tied to any man for the next eighteen-plus years. And if what Hannah suspected about Reggie—that he’d fallen for her—was true, he would surely want to stick around and be in the child’s life.

Not that Reggie was still an option anyway. She’d severed ties with him. Well, actually, not officially, but she’d declined his company for the past few weeks. She refused to acknowledge Lauder as the reason. He wasn’t. Then she recalled the last time she’d been intimate with Reggie. Well, attempted to be intimate. In her head, she couldn’t stop seeing Lauder’s face. It had ruined the mood. She hadn’t seen Reggie since.

The doorbell rang, startling her. Six o’clock on the dot. Lauder was punctual. Scrutinizing herself in the mirror once more, she headed out of the bedroom. Opening the door, she eyed the suited stranger standing there. “May I help you?”

“Ms. Dawson?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Donovan. Mr. Tolson sent me.”

Confused, Willow said, “He sent you?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m your driver for the evening.”

“My driver?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Willow looked past Donovan and spied the black luxury vehicle. No sign of Lauder. “Where is Mr. Tolson?”

“At his residence. I’m to take you there.”

“His residence?”

Donovan didn’t bother responding this time.

A hundred questions raced through Willow’s head. Why had Lauder sent a stranger in a hundred-thousand-dollar vehicle to get her? Why were they going to his residence and not a restaurant? Where there would be other people, she added. Was she overdressed?

She ran a hand over the black off-the-shoulder scalloped lace dress that fell just below the knees. I should change. A second later, she cast out the idea. Too much energy had been spent on perfecting this look.

“Shall we go?” Donovan asked.

Willow nodded.

Less than a half hour later, she stood face-to-face with Lauder. Two things she’d learned about him: he was one dynamic kisser, and he could wear the hell out of anything he slid his muscled body into. The dark denim jeans and white button-down shirt were no exceptions.

Again, the top button of his shirt was unfastened, flashing her a scant glimpse of his chest. Her eyes fixed on his Adam’s apple, forcing her to swallow hard when her throat suddenly went dry.

When her assessing gaze made an unhurried climb, she flinched at the quizzical expression on Lauder’s face. “Um...you don’t like wearing ties.” Of all the things she could have said, she’d said something so stupid.

“Only when I have to.” One corner of his mouth lifted into a sexy smile. “But I can put one on if you prefer.”

“You’re fine. The tie,” she said quickly. “It’s...fine.” What the hell was wrong with her? Why did Lauder turn her into a blushing fool? Note to self, you will remain in control tonight. He flashed that lopsided smile, and her pulse quickened. Complete control.

“You look...nice,” Lauder said, his eyes roaming over her body.

Nice? A nice was all she got? Not wanting to be ungrateful for the mild compliment, she said, “Thank you. So do you. Even without the tie.”

“Follow me.”

Willow trailed him. For the first time, she really scrutinized the space. He truly did have an amazing home. Decorated in rich stone and a blue-gray color palette with a splash of cream, it suited him. Intense.

The spacious dwelling needed something. But what? It hit her. Warmth. It needed warmth, because while it was intense, it was also cold. In that moment, and for some unexplainable reason, she felt empathy for Lauder.

Entering the modern-style kitchen fashioned with all stainless steel appliances, fixtures and accents, Willow noticed the prep-station-type setup.

“Can you cook?” Lauder asked.

“Umm...why?”

“I thought we’d prepare the meal together. But if you’d prefer to go out...”

“No. This is fine.”

“You sure? I don’t want you to think I’m trying to be cheap.”

Willow slid her gaze over the impressive spread atop the marble island: lobster, rib eye steaks, chicken kabobs and an assortment of fresh-cut veggies. Cheap was the last thing floating around in her head. “I’m sure.” Cocking a brow, she said, “You can cook?”

“Don’t look so surprised. I can burn a kitchen down. Which is exactly what happened during my first cooking lesson.”

Willow burst into laughter. “You set a kitchen on fire?”

“It wasn’t like a four-alarm fire or anything.” He shrugged. “A one-and-a-half alarm, at best.”

More laughter poured from Willow.

“Thanks to my foster brother’s wife and her bachelors-in-the-kitchen culinary package, I can throw down.”

“You took cooking lessons?”

Lauder flashed a comical expression. “Yes.”

“You must have been trying to impress a woman.” Lauder’s bright expression dimmed, and she couldn’t help but wonder why.

“Nah. Most women I come across prefer visiting high-dollar restaurants.”

“Not me.” God, why had she sounded so desperate? “I mean... I love to tinker in the kitchen, try new things. I watch a lot of the cooking channel. I have no life.”

Dammit. Why had she admitted that? Admitted any of that. For one, it sounded as if she were vying for some of his time. For two, she’d made herself sound like a freaking couch potato. For three, she just sounded pitiful.

“Huh” was all Lauder said.

Huh? What did that mean?

Lauder stared at her, narrow eyed, for a moment, then said, “Let’s cook.”

“Uh, normally, I’d be all for this, but I don’t think I have on the proper attire.”

“Take it off.”

Willow rested a hand on her hip. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“What kind of man do you think I am? I’ll give you something else to wear.” His eyes raked over her. “Mainly because that dress is distracting as hell. I don’t want to burn down my kitchen.”

Willow lowered her head to hide her smile. Had a man ever alluded to her looking too good in a dress? Nope. Latching on to his gaze again, she said, “Well, you probably should have mentioned we were going to put your culinary skills to work. I would have worn something less—”