Page 7 of The Sculptor

I flash her a fake smile and hold out my hand.

“Sweetheart, I’d like for you to meet Dr. Potter,” Congressman Albrecht says, unaware there’s a turbulent history in this room. “Dr. Potter, this is my fiancée, Ramsey Ford—your new patient.”

Ramsey

No.

No.

No.

It can’t be him.

It can’t be those hazel eyes that hold memories of lying under the stars, our hands locked together like no one could separate us.

He called it the season of wildfire that year we fell in love. A time when we burned the brightest before everything fell down around us.

Though, I can’t be sure, because this guy’s shoulders are broader than the ones I remember, and his waist is more tapered than before.

But it’s his ticking jaw that smothers the last of my hope that this is a stranger and not my childhood love—Duke Potter.

“My doctor?” I rip my eyes away from Duke and narrow them at my soon-to-be husband. “Since when do I need a plastic surgeon?”

Gah, why is Duke here? How in the heck did he find me?

It’s too soon!

He can’t be here right now. He can’t get involved.

Langston chuckles, his gaze going from hospitable to threatening as he grits his teeth in an evil smile. “Since last month… when you agreed to be my wife.” Heat blooms across my cheeks when he sweeps a dismissive look over my body, pausing at my ample chest. “Marrying me is quite the upgrade from living the life of a broke expat. And as a proper thank you, you’ll look the part of a congressman’s wife and upgrade those tits.” He dares me to argue in front of our guest—the very guest with the hardened jaw, clenched fist, and previous history of having a severe white-knight complex.

I step in front of Langston, blocking Duke from doing anything stupid. I know him—or used to—and unless he’s found an abundance of patience in the last two decades, this meeting will end poorly. “Oh, Langston. You sweet man. Here I thought this meeting was for you, and you surprise me with a boob job!” I try pushing excitement into my words as I cup his cheeks and attempt a loving gaze. “How did I get so lucky?”

Fury rolls off Duke in waves, but I ignore it. Langston requires my nauseating “gratitude” at the moment, and I can’t be distracted, worrying about what Duke thinks of me. “You are too good to me, baby.”

The devil of a man grins at the stupid pet name and relaxes under my hands. “You better not forget it either, darling. Now, be good for Dr. Potter, and let him make you pretty for me.”

He grabs my shoulders and spins me around to face Duke, who has somehow managed to unclench his fists and fake a smile. But the lingering threat of violence swirling deep within those hazel eyes concerns me.

I’d recognize that look anywhere.

It’s the same look Duke gave my father after he had ripped me from Duke’s arms. But unlike last time, I’m not clinging to Duke, pleading my apologies.

I’m not the same helpless girl anymore.

I don’t need Duke to hold me and promise to make things better again.

No one should hold the key to your happiness, not even great guys like Duke.

But Duke would have tried.

He would have tried to love me past the pain.

He would have sacrificed his career and relationship with his family.

And that kind of devotion deserves protection—even if it’s from himself.

So just like back then, I protect him now. It’s for his own good.

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