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“You must be extremely proud.” A deep-voiced man shook me from my sexual musings.
Turning, I peered over my shoulder and was startled to find a stunning piece of eye-candy
beside me. Dressed in a gray suit, his dark eyes matched his coffee-colored hair and the well-manicured scruff adorning his chiseled face.
“I beg your pardon?” I asked, confused by his remark.
“I said you must be extremely proud. Joshua captured you impeccably in this decisive piece of erotica.” The man nodded toward the statue.
“Oh!” I blinked. “No. That’s not me.”
He cocked his head as if trying to decide if I was telling a lie. Darting several glances between the sculpture and me, he pursed his lips in a frown. “She bears an uncanny resemblance of you.”
“Coincidence, I guess.” I shrugged.
“Hmmm,” he grunted in disbelief. “That’s some coincidence, and a quite a pity.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I think you’d look stunning on your knees before me,” he quipped with a wicked smirk.
My mouth fell open in absolute shock.
“Ah, Ian. Glad you could make it, man,” Joshua announced as he slapped the other man on the shoulder with a broad smile, joining our conversation.
Snapping my jaw shut, I welcomed his interruption. Joshua had left me speechless.
“You know I wouldn’t miss this,” Ian chuckled.
“Melinda Carson, Ian Stone. Ian, Melinda,” Joshua introduced.
“Not Melinda.” I cringed. “Please call me Mellie.”
“Mellie, I’m enchanted,” Ian replied with a wolfish grin. Lifting my hand to his lips, he brushed a kiss over my skin.
“Back off, bro,” Joshua warned. An unmistakable tone of jealousy resonated in his voice.
“Seriously?” Ian asked, arching his brows. “I should have known.” Turning, he pinned me with an accusatory stare. “I almost believed you when you said you weren’t the model for the statue.”
“I’m not,” I gasped.
As if putting the pieces of our conversation together, Joshua peered down at the kneeling woman, then turned and studied me with a razor-sharp gaze. “That’s truly amazing.”
“What?” I asked as a rush of anxiety rippled through me.
“She looks just like you,” Joshua affirmed.
“No, she doesn’t.”
“Yes, she does,” both men chuckled in unison.
“It’s fate and can only mean one thing,” Joshua marveled as he plucked the statue from its stand.
“What?”
“She’s yours,” he insisted, thrusting the delicate woman into my hands.
The unexpected weight of the piece surprised me. I clutched it tight, praying it wouldn’t slip through my fingers and splinter over the glossy hardwood floor. “I can’t possibly accept this. It’s too much, honestly.”
