"Nick-"
He shook his head. "Forget it. You're doing your job, helping out Vaughn and the lodge, and V m doing mine. I understand where your head is." He pinned her with his steady gaze. "So it shouldn't be too big a leap for you to see why I don't want to date a woman who's already been dumped by Vaughn."
Annabelle saw, but on a logical level, it made little sense. "But she's interested in you."
"Only because Vaughn is out of reach." He shook his head. "End of discussion, okay?"
She frowned. "Okay." She agreed, yet she intended to talk to Mara and help the other woman overcome Nick's insecurities, which she feared she'd just helped contribute to.
With a sigh, she glanced at the clock on the wall, ticking too close to early afternoon.
"What's our next step now that Vaughn's disappeared on us?" Nick asked, changing the subject back to business.
Annabelle smiled, grateful he didn't hold her thoughts against her. "Would you keep the reporter busy? Give him a tour and avoid the problem areas, okay?"
He nodded. "My pleasure."
"Meanwhile can I borrow your car?"
He narrowed his gaze. "Where are you going?"
"Just out to do a few errands." Following her gut, she had a few people from Vaughn's past she wanted to talk to before speaking with the reporter and giving their spin on things.
"Can you drive a stick?" Nick asked.
She nodded.
He reached into his pocket and tossed her his keys. "Don't hit anything, will you?"
"If I promise to take care of your car do you promise to think about giving Mara a chance?"
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I'll do anything for my Corvette."
She laughed. "Typical man." With a wave, she headed off to speak to one of Vaughn's old teachers. They were her only hope of finding out enough about the man to put his reasons for creating the camp in a positive light.
CHAPTER EIGHT
AS A CELEBRITY of sorts, Vaughn was used to the spotlight. He was used to stares, glares and whispers behind his back as well as blatantly in front of his face. So when he walked into his parents' home and conversation stopped, he had his first inkling there'd be trouble tonight. And he didn't think the gorgeous babe on his arm had caused the stunned silence-although she'd rendered him mute when they'd met in the front hallway of his house twenty minutes earlier.
Who'd have thought an appropriate-looking, basic black dress could appear so sexy, seductive and sultry? Of course it had something to do with the blonde filling out the material and even more to do with Vaughn and Annabelle's early-morning meeting in his bed. Because now, not only had he seen her body, but he'd held those firmly rounded breasts in his hands. He no longer had to rely on imagination, and the reality had taken up permanent residence in his mind.
Annabelle tugged on his arm, breaking him out of his daydream. "Are we going inside or are we going to stand in the entryway all night?" she asked, attempting to redirect his attention to where it belonged.
He wiped the sweat off his brow and focused on the company in the room. Their entry complete, the guests of his parents and the important trustees of the university had begun to talk among themselves again. And just his luck, his mother began to make a direct line toward them.
"We're going to mingle," he assured Annabelle, grasping her hand and heading in the opposite direction from Estelle.
Unfortunately she was a woman on a mission. "Oh, Brandon!" She waved, giving him no choice but to wait for her to accost them.
Only when she'd come close, so no one could hear, did she begin her tantrum. "You knew you were coming to this party, so how could you allow such a personal interview to come out today?" Her direct glare was more on Annabelle than on him.
Still, he wasn't about to turn an obvious family issue into Annabelle's problem. "Good evening to you, too, mother,” he said, smiling for the benefit of the people around them.
"Hello, Mrs. Vaughn." Annabelle extended her hand but Estelle didn't take it. Instead she motioned with a regal tilt of her head. "In the study. Now, please."
Vaughn raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "Let's see what's on her mind," he whispered to Annabelle. And maybe then he'd find out why everyone else had paused when they'd laid eyes on him this evening.
It was obvious the shit was about to fly.
They entered the study and Estelle clicked the door closed politely, but her squared shoulders and heavy breathing spoke another story completely.
She appraised him, her gaze raking the length of his European suit. "Just what is all over you?" she asked, brushing at his lapels with her hand.
He glanced down. "Hair," he muttered.
"Cat hair," Annabelle added with a cheery smile.
Her cat had decided she liked his room best. He'd laid his suit out on the bed and when he'd returned from his shower, she was curled into a ball on top of the dark jacket. He'd tried to brush it off with no luck. Just why the animal had decided to make him her best friend, he had no idea.
"Well you could have made sure you were lint free before coming out for the evening. We have important guests " his mother reminded him.
As if he didn't know. As if he really cared. Despite not being thrilled with the influx of animals in his home, he had to admit he didn't mind riling his mother a bit more and he shot Annabelle an amused glance. His coconspirator grinned back.
At the same moment, Vaughn realized her black dress was lint free, yet she'd had the dog and the rabbit staying in her room. "How'd you manage to keep clean?"
"Scotch tape. But you were in such a rush to leave, I didn't have a chance to share the trick with you."
His rush had actually been to get into a room with a crowd so he wouldn't rip off her dress and finish what they'd started this morning.
Estelle cleared her throat. "If you two wouldn't mind paying attention?"
They both glanced her way. "What's going on?" Vaughn asked his mother.
She folded her hands together. "You both lied to me. Annabelle Jordan isn't an old friend opening a hotel in New York. She's your publicist." She spat the word as if it were poison.
Was that all? Vaughn shook his head laughing. He'd tried to keep Annabelle's profession a secret only because he didn't want to be perceived as manipulating the public for his own selfish purposes.
As far as he was concerned, his mother had no reason to question who or what Annabelle was to him. She only cared now because somehow, she perceived herself as an affected or wounded party.
"Mrs. Vaughn," Annabelle began, "I'm-"
"I'm handling this," he said, interrupting whatever Annabelle had been about to say. "I hired Annabelle to help with a few PR issues surrounding the lodge. What's wrong with that?"
Estelle straightened her linen suit jacket. "Did you also ask her to go digging into your past? To bring up bad memories? To humiliate your father when all the trustees would be around?"
Beside him, he felt Annabelle stiffen. Still unsure what was going on, his skin began to tingle uncomfortably, but he ignored his mother's accusations and addressed the one thing he did know for certain. "I don't make any decisions in my life based around what you or Theodore want."
On the other hand, he did know better than to publicize much about his past and the only memories his father would consider bad ones involved academics. "What's going on?" he asked.
"The evening news ran a feature on your lodge."
"It was planned-"
Again, he cut Annabelle off, this time with a wave of his hand and turned to his mother. "You already know the lodge is a done deal."
She sighed. "You know I hate it when you're deliberately obtuse." She leaned over and picked the television and VCR remotes off the table. A few seconds later, she had a tape running of the local cable news.
The reporter began with the morning's vandalism and some of the other difficulties plaguing the lodge and then segued into an actual plea to people with reservations to hang on and trust in football lege
nd Brandon Vaughn, "a man invested in the next generation."
He shot a glance at Annabelle, who was accepting being shut up too easily. She merely batted her lashes and shrugged, but the proud smile on her lips told him that she'd come up with that particular theme for the lodge. Her satisfaction was obvious from the glow in her cheeks and damned if a part of him didn't share her pride.
He glanced at the television. So far the reporter hadn't come up with anything to upset his mother beyond the usual. "This is it," Estelle said and raised the volume a notch.
"Although unreachable for comment, we were able to interview Vaughn's publicist Annabelle Jordan, who said her client, quote 'remembers what it's like to be a kid' unquote."
So far so good, and Vaughn folded his arms over his chest and waited, pushing aside the uneasy feeling creeping over him that warned him there had to be more.
"Following a suggestion from Ms. Jordan, we made contact with Mrs. Peabody, a longtime teacher at the Greenlawn High School for interpretation." As Vaughn gritted his teeth, the camera panned to the high school where his old white-haired teacher stood on the lawn, the American flag waving in the background.
"Brandon is our star, our shining star," she said proudly, taking Vaughn off guard. "But he struggled mightily while here and if you think my recollection's faulty, school records speak for themselves. He's probably determined to open his lodge so he can bring kids with similar issues to a fun environment where they can also supplement their learning. I admire him, I surely do."
Estelle flipped off the television and stood staring at both Vaughn and Annabelle. Her cheeks were flushed pink with the embarrassment he remembered only too well from every parent-teacher conference she'd ever attended.
His stomach churned at having disappointed her again, at coming up short in his parents' estimation, until he reminded himself he wasn't that failing kid. He was an accomplished adult and that news report had been a positive one.
One that, for more personal reasons, he'd preferred hadn't aired, and he glanced at the source. Annabelle stood beside him, tapping her foot, and he figured she was waiting for the fallout. But with the afternoon behind him and plenty of time to think, he'd already come to the conclusion he wasn't being fair to her. He understood that and would deal with her and the repercussions later tonight.
Right now he had another problem. "And what exactly is wrong with truthful reporting?" he asked Estelle.
Before she could answer, a knock sounded at the door and Vaughn's father walked inside. "The guests are beginning to ask if anything's amiss. Are you ready to return?" he asked his wife, ignoring both Vaughn and Annabelle.
"Hello, Dad."
Theodore inclined his head. "I hope you're prepared to address the issues you stirred up today." Polite niceties were obviously too much to ask when he'd been disappointed again.
Well if his parents couldn't be polite, Vaughn damn well could. "I'd like you to meet my publicist, Annabelle Jordan. Annabelle, this is Theodore Vaughn."
"Professor Theodore Vaughn," his father said as he extended his hand toward Annabelle.
"A pleasure, Professor." Smiling, she shook his hand. "I'd be happy to answer any questions about the news piece, though frankly I thought they did a spectacular job portraying Vaughn as both a star and a compassionate human being doing his best to help others. I'm certain this will be picked up by the other networks and help sustain reservations."
"Other networks?" Theodore said, his jaw sagging. "That's…that's- You don't say." Obviously unhappy, he turned as pale as his beige shirt.
For the first time in recent memory, Vaughn's father was speechless and he had Annabelle to thank.
"Well now you know how we feel, not that it will make any difference to you. It never does." Estelle shook her head and walked over to her husband, sighing as she crossed the room.
They turned to leave, but Theodore glanced back over his shoulder. "Brandon, please try to steer the conversation away from the interview. I'm certain the board members will overlook your academic background in favor of your other skills."
As usual, other, meaning his athletic ability, was not meant in a positive sense. Still Vaughn didn't miss the irony. His parents, who'd always disdained his sport, now begged him to take a coaching position because it would help their standing.
Well it was too damn bad. "I'm not taking the job," Vaughn said clearly.
But his parents were out the door, heads together, plotting which person deserved their attention next.
He shook his head and groaned. "Damn but they never change."
"What world do they live in?" Annabelle asked.
"Their own."
"How can they not see you? How can they not appreciate your talent? Your drive? Your altruism?"
As she extolled his virtues, something inside him softened toward her even more.
"Listen, about the interview-" she began.
He clasped her hand and cut her off midsentence. "You did a good job promoting the lodge." He swallowed hard. "Thank you for that."
She narrowed her gaze. "No yelling, no screaming?" She pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. "Are you feeling okay?"
He laughed. Shockingly he'd never felt better. "I'm fine. I'm also not stupid and I know what you were trying to do with that report."
Annabelle smiled. "I never said you were stupid. Now would you care to fill me in on why you haven't sided with your parents when it comes to the news report? I'm sure you hated it as much as they did."
And Annabelle had been steeling herself for the confrontation all day. She just hadn't expected it to happen at the party.
He headed for the couch, pulling her along with him until they were seated, thigh to thigh. "Let's get a few things straight."
She tried to concentrate, but his body temperature was too strong, her attraction too potent.
"For one thing, I never side with my parents."
"I can see why." Watching the family dynamics was painful in the extreme. "They really don't get you, do they?"
He shook his head. "And neither do you. At least not when it comes to gauging my reactions." But that wasn't her fault. He'd refused to let her in. "Do you know where I spent the afternoon?"
"Running around the lake at the lodge?"
"Hiring a new security firm and then adding extra men so we don't lose much time. And all the while, I was thinking about how I could save the lodge. Which led me back to the fact that I'd hired you, then tied your hands with lack of information."
She blinked, startled into silence. "I really didn't expect you to realize that."
He reached his arm along the top of the couch and leaned back, laughing. "Well I may have taken a few hits to the head in my day, but eventually I can do the math. I need you to help me succeed and you need information out of me to do your job." He inclined his head. "You see? I get it."
She grinned. "So I can expect your cooperation from now on?"
He nodded.
Seeing opportunity, she snuggled closer. So close she smelled his delicious aftershave and her insides curled with warmth and desire.
She peered up at him and fluttered her lashes. "Your cooperation in all things?" she asked, deliberately coy.
"All things business," he said with a grin and a quick wink.
She laughed. "Well you can't blame a girl for trying." Meanwhile he'd given her his professional trust and she couldn't imagine a better gift. "Don't we have people to see?" She gestured to the study door.
He let out a groan. "That we do."
During the next excruciating few hours, time made more painful by the dominant overseeing of Vaughn's parents, Annabelle discovered a few more things. She learned not only did Vaughn consider this town home, but he had good reason.
The college board of trustees applauded the television interview. They felt Vaughn's devotion to children only bolstered their desire to hire him as a coach, and his old teacher's admission of academic difficulty made him more human to
them. More real.
But not to his parents. They couldn't see beyond their own expectations and disappointments.
Annabelle saw everything.
Including the fact that he'd become the man he was today, not thanks to his parents but despite them. And that was a credit to Vaughn's strength of character. She admired him. Enough to know she intended to pick up where they'd left off earlier that morning.
And she'd do so tonight.
THEY'D DRIVEN HOME in comfortable silence, then parted at Annabelle's bedroom. Now she steeled her nerves, adjusted the straps of the only teddy she'd brought with her and knocked on Vaughn's door.
Her knees were shaking. For all the fun and teasing she subjected him to, she wasn't so brave now when her pride was at stake.
The door swung open wide and she stood facing Vaughn. Physically exposed, she felt emotionally stripped as well. But she hadn't come this far to turn back now.
She looked into his sexy gaze and drew a deep breath. "Hey there, Vaughn."
"Annie," he said in a gruff voice.
The sound of her nickname took her off guard. "I…" She glanced down, unsure of what she'd been about to say and discovered he was wearing a pair of black boxers and nothing more. Tanned skin, powerful muscles and a rock-hard body, she thought, trying to catch her breath.
Her gaze flew to his. "I thought you'd be a Jockey kind of guy," she said to break the tension.
"I'm dyslexic," he blurted out at the same time.
From arousal to understanding in seconds flat.
Annabelle blinked and as Vaughn stepped back into the room, she followed him inside. Though she couldn't tear her eyes from his gorgeous body, she also knew what it cost him to admit his childhood weakness.
"Do your parents know?" she asked, settling herself on the edge of his bed.
He nodded. "And before you say anything, yes, you'd think a professor would understand. He doesn't," Vaughn said flatly. "All they know is that the educator's son couldn't hack school. I'm not their pride and joy, I'm their biggest embarrassment."
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