“Oui, and her favorite brother, at that,” he said, his grin full of promise and trouble as he reached a hand toward hers. “And from what I gathered from those two camera-toting clowns, your name is Willa?”
Willa tentatively took his hand, shaking it as she nodded then tried to pull away. But he held her. His hand was warm and work-callused, with long, artistic fingers that seemed to cling to her palm a bit too much for comfort. Lucas Dorsette didn’t just shake her hand; he held it as if it were a treasure. And then he did something even more unexpected. He bent his head and kissed her hand.
“Hello, Willa,” he said as he lifted his head, those dark, mischievous eyes sparkling with way too much charm. “Where on earth did you come from?”
“She came from New York,” Lorna said from behind him. “And she’d probably like her hand back, big brother.”
Willa watched as Lucas shrugged, then turned his head toward his sister and her husband, Mick, as they strolled down the garden path from the house. But he didn’t let go of her hand. Instead, he kept it tucked in his then brought it down, holding it as if they’d been lifelong friends. “I’ll give it back…in a little bit.”
Willa didn’t wait for him to decide when. She gave him a slight smile, then pulled her hand away so she could wave to Lorna, glad for the distraction and glad to have her tingling hand away from his overly warm fingers. “Hello there. I was just about to explain to your brother what I’m doing here.”
“Let me,” Lorna said, giving Willa a light hug. Then she turned to Lucas. “Lucas, this is my friend Willa O’Connor. She arrived late last night. I met Willa in Paris a few years ago, and we’ve kept in touch since then. She needed a few days to herself, so I invited her to come down here to Bayou le Jardin. And I expect you to give her some much-needed space.” Then she yanked playfully on a silky strand of her brother’s unkempt hair. “And I expect you to behave yourself.”
“Don’t I always now?” Lucas said, his gaze zooming in on Willa with all the bright-eyed intent of someone who never, ever behaved himself.
Oh, she loved his accent—part southern gentleman, part backwoods Cajun, slow and easy and downright irresistible. Lucas Dorsette was everything his sister had described and more. A true contradiction—fierce and gentle, mysterious and gallant. Handsome and fun-loving.
A lethal combination of charm and rebellion.
Lorna had warned her.
But he had come to her rescue like some gallant knight from a romance novel. Only who was she kidding? Willa knew she needed another man in her life like she needed another pair of designer shoes. She’d had way too many of both.
And she’d come down to Louisiana to clean her closet, get the cobwebs out of the attic, so to speak. Decide what to do about her crumbling life. She didn’t need Lorna’s handsome brother complicating her already complicated existence.
And yet, she could still feel the warmth of his lips on the back of her hand.
“Your brother has behaved perfectly this morning,” she told Lorna. “He helped me out of a very sticky situation.”
“What happened?” Lorna asked as she leaned against her good-looking husband’s chest. Mick automatically wrapped his arms around Lorna, holding her close as they waited for Willa to answer.
Willa envied the happiness her friend had found in the spring, envied Lorna’s glowing face and contented newlywed smile. She was glad Lorna had found some peace at last. She’d come to Lorna’s beloved gardens hoping to find some peace of her own.
But apparently, it wasn’t to be.
“I’m afraid I’ve been found,” she said. “The press—two goons from the tabloids.”
“They were hiding in the bushes like possums,” Lucas said, his dark brows lifting as he watched Willa. “And hey, jolie fille, mind telling me what that was all about? Why did those two want pictures of you so bad, besides the fact that you’re beautiful and so obviously photogenic, and as you said, somewhat of a celebrity?”
Willa had to smile at the innocence of his question. A man who didn’t know her face? A man who really didn’t follow every aspect of her career? She found that hard to believe, but it was a refreshing change, at least.
Lorna gave her brother a gentle slap on the arm. “You dolt, don’t you know who she is?”
Lucas nodded. “Yes, she’s Willa O’Connor, fair maiden and friend of Lorna. Isn’t that all I need to know?”
“Yes,” Willa said.
“No,” Lorna replied, rolling her eyes. Then she took her brother by the face, holding a hand to his jaw. “Willa is a supermodel. Her face is famous all over the world. And right now, she’s supposed to be resting—away from all the cameras and the spotlights. So you did the right thing by sending those two away.”
“They’ll be back, and they’ll bring others with them,” Willa stated, her head down. “Which means I probably should leave soon. I don’t want to disrupt your home or bother any of your other guests.”
“Nonsense,” Lucas said before Lorna could reply, his dark eyes gleaming with new knowledge. “If you came here to find rest and relaxation, then that’s exactly what you’ll get. And I’ll put myself personally in charge—just to make sure.”
Lorna’s husband, Mick, spoke up. “How, uh, noble of you, Lucas.”
“Ain’t it, though?” Lucas replied, clearly unaffected by his brother-in-law’s teasing. “Personal detail—I’m good at that. I can be your tour guide, your bodyguard, whatever you need me to be.” He held his hand over his heart, then gave Willa a besotted, lopsided grin that had her laughing in spite of herself.
But the way he’d spoken left her wondering exactly what his many talents entailed. Probably heartbreaker, rake, charmer, just to name a few.
“Easy, brother,” Lorna cautioned. “She needs to rest. And if I know you, that word translates more into restless. Don’t drag her out into the swamp for any ‘gator sightings just yet.”
Lucas looked affronted. “The swamp can be a very restful spot. And highly romantic.”
Willa had to smile again. “Rest I need. And as for romance, I’m afraid I’ve given up on that forever.”
“Forever is a long time, suga’,” Lucas countered. “Me, personally, I couldn’t survive without a little romance now and then.”
His dark, unwavering gaze washed over her, telling her that neither could she—if he had his way.
“I warned you,” Lorna reminded Willa, taking her husband’s hand to head to the house. “Breakfast is ready, if you can tear yourself away from my poetic brother.”
“I’ll escort you,” Lucas told Willa, tucking his arm around hers before she could take a step. “According to our aunt Hilda, breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
“Willa’s already met Aunt Hilda,” Lorna called over her shoulder. “She had an early meeting in town so she couldn’t stay for breakfast with our guests, but she did urge Willa to eat a good meal.”
“See?” Lucas ducked his head low, his words coming in a warm rush near Willa’s ear. “And she always let’s me say grace.”
Grace. Willa wondered what that word meant, exactly. She’d been told she had a natural grace. She was in demand because of that, at the top of her career. And she’d just walked out on one of the most important fashion shows in the industry. How was that for having grace? How was that for saving grace?
She knew Lorna’s family was devout. Lorna had never made any secret of her Christianity, nor of her strong faith. Was that what real grace was all about? And could this beautiful, timeless