Hot Stuff

by Carly Phillips

  So by the time he'd taken a quick shower and headed to the kitchen, he had a dumbass grin on his face and looked forward to the day in a way he hadn't in a long while.

  Not even the persistent ringing of the telephone, the caller ID showing his parents* number, could change his good mood. Especially since he'd made the decision to ignore anything having to do with his mother or father, determined to put them and their persistent negativity out of his mind.

  He strode into the room and settled himself in a chair beside Annabelle. He glanced at her breakfast choice, surprised. "Cold cereal?" he asked.

  Annabelle raised an eyebrow. "What? You were expecting pancakes? Eggs? Waffles maybe?" She shook her head, laughing. "This is as good as it gets in the morning so you'd better get used to it." Her eyes opened wide as she caught her words. "I mean, this is as good as it gets. Period."

  "Hey, cereal and milk is fine with me." He ignored the slip-up because everything from her actions to her relaxed smile told him she was comfortable with what had happened between them, and that she didn't expect anything more than this.

  They were on the same wavelength, and things couldn't get any better, he thought.

  "Are things quiet at the lodge?" she asked.

  He nodded. "I'm paying the crews overtime to work weekends, but if it helps us fix the problems and open on time, it's fine with me."

  She stirred her soggy Lucky Charms with her spoon. "Look, I've been thinking about the PR and the summer camp you have planned. I understand you're a private person, but there are subtle ways you can help kids with dyslexia to work with their problems all year round." She raised her gaze slowly, obviously unsure if she'd touched a nerve by bringing up the subject.

  He drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He'd promised himself he'd give her the tools to do her job and not get angry or defensive, but he had to admit, defensive was still his gut instinct, especially after just talking with Laura.

  "You had time between last night and this morning to think things through? I must not have kept you busy enough," he said, half joking, half filled with hope she'd halt the discussion.

  "Guess you'll just have to try harder." She shrugged and his jersey slipped off one shoulder, revealing bare skin. Whether the move was intentional or not, his body temperature spiked another notch. A smile pulled at her lips. "Now stop trying to get me to change the subject."

  He groaned. "Okay, what'd you have in mind?" he forced himself to ask.

  "You're a successful businessman and a famous athlete, much as I hate to admit that and boost your already huge ego. But think what the revelation would mean to struggling kids who already look up to you."

  "No. I am not doing some exposé on my life." He slashed a hand through the air to emphasize his point.

  She pursed her lips in a pout, probably one she hoped he couldn't deny. "Just think about the kids who are too ashamed to admit they have problems and fall through the cracks because of it." Her cereal forgotten, her voice held a pleading edge.

  "What I think about are the repercussions at home when you admit you can't learn like everyone else."

  "Better to struggle?" she asked, frustration in her voice.

  "Better to pretend you just don't like school than to be laughed at for being stupid."

  "Then why offer the camp? Why give kids a place to come if you think it's going to stigmatize them?"

  He leaned forward on his elbows. "The camp will give any struggling child, dyslexic or otherwise, an opportunity to even the odds of succeeding."

  "An equal opportunity camp for delinquents and kids with disabilities alike, huh?" She shook her head. "I don't buy your theory. You're assuming your experience with your parents is the way all families will react to dyslexia or other disabilities. Are you suggesting kids shouldn't be diagnosed at all?"

  "I'm suggesting that I don't force the issue. I'd rather give kids a place to come where they can experience the freedom of learning in a nonjudgmental environment, no matter what their problems or issues are."

  She pushed her cereal away and rolled her eyes. "Sounds so good, you're definitely full of it. In fact, it sounds like you're running and not just from your parents' reaction." She rose and stood in front of him, her face inches from his. "Who else hurt you, Vaughn? Was it your ex-wife? Is that why you haven't called her back?"

  He narrowed his gaze, unable to believe she was this feisty, this frustrating, this gutsy. That she would push him so far angered him beyond belief. But damned if it didn't turn him on, too. "As a matter of fact, I just did call her back."

  "Oh."

  "She wanted to borrow money."

  Annabelle blinked. "I see. So was it her?" she asked softly. "Was Laura the one who hurt you and made you close yourself off?"

  "You don't know what you're talking about," he said, though he was afraid she did. Afraid that once again, she'd dug into his psyche and understood him too well.

  The truth was that as much as he wanted to help kids like him, he really was afraid to put himself out there for public scrutiny because then he'd risk rejection. Vaughn might have gotten help with reading but it was the psychological scars that remained.

  "Okay I'll stop pushing. Just think about it," Annabelle said into the silence, her lips so close he could almost taste her.

  Last time he'd agreed to think, he'd opened up and admitted his dyslexia. He feared with Annabelle here, he'd end up doing the same thing again and suffer public humiliation as a result. So instead of answering, he merely inclined his head slightly.

  She grinned. "I'll take that as a yes. Now kiss me."

  He blinked, surprised but definitely not opposed to her directive. "That won't solve our differences," he reminded her.

  "Maybe not, but it'll sure feel good."

  He laughed, breaking the tension. She had a way of doing that, easing his mind, making him feel good.

  But just when he was about to kiss her, the damn doorbell rang.

  "What is it with this place?" she asked. "Phone calls, door bells, interruptions galore. It's like Grand Central Station." She tucked her hair behind her ear and inclined her head toward the entry.

  He hit the intercom button on the phone near the wall. "Who is it?"

  "I should have known you'd be too damn lazy to answer the door yourself. No wonder you're getting old and flabby. Get the hell out here and let me inside," Yank Morgan ordered with the ferocity of a drill sergeant and a man used to getting his way.

  At the sound of the older man's voice, Vaughn's stomach plummeted. "Were you expecting him?" he asked Annabelle.

  Eyes wide, she shook her head. "No, but I'm going to get dressed while you let him in."

  "Good idea." The last thing Vaughn wanted was to have Yank Morgan stroll in and realize it was the morning after Vaughn had had sex with his niece,

  Yank's nieces were his pride and joy. If the man found out Vaughn had slept with Annabelle, no commitment involved, he'd have Vaughn's hide. Bottom line, he'd cut him out of his life again. And that was the last thing Vaughn wanted. He ran a hand through his hair, unable to believe he'd forgotten the main reason to steer clear of Annabelle.

  Resigned, he headed to the front door to let his guest inside. Yank appeared scruffier than usual and more tired than Vaughn remembered seeing him in the city.

  Added to that, this visit wasn't planned and Vaughn grew concerned. 'To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, gesturing for Yank to come inside.

  "Can't a man visit his niece without you asking one hundred questions?"

  He narrowed his gaze. Was it his imagination or did Yank seem crankier than usual? "At last count, I asked you one question only and not an unreasonable one considering how far you drove to show up on my doorstep." He placed a hand on the older man's back and guided him to the large living area he used for his infrequent company. "So what gives?"

  Yank settled himself on the sofa and motioned for Vaughn to do the same. Then he leaned close. "If I tell you, you can't tell Annie."
<
br />   So something was wrong. His stomach cramped but he forced a casual shrug. He'd just resolved to steer clear of the woman. How hard would it be to keep Yank's secret? "Since when do I share things with anyone?"

  Since Annabelle came the silent answer. But whatever Yank told him would remain between them. He had no choice. "You have my word."

  Yank cracked his knuckles as he admitted, "The doctor says my eyesight's going."

  Forget his stomach, now Vaughn's head began pounding, too. "Going as in…"

  Yank slapped his hand over Vaughn's eyes like a blindfold. "As in can't see a damn thing."

  He dropped his hand and Vaughn blinked to refocus. For a split second, Yank's face showed all the fear he'd been hiding, before he covered his emotions with an expressionless mask once more.

  Vaughn had been in a similar position to Yank, faced with a huge loss when he'd shattered his knee. So he knew better than to offer pity or condolences. He also knew what it cost the older man to open up, and it showed that no matter how many years had passed since they'd been close, the bond remained. It would strengthen as Vaughn helped Yank through this tough time. But if Yank found out about his one-night stand with Annabelle, both men stood to lose.

  Vaughn swallowed hard and focused on not pitying Yank now. "Dare I ask how you plan to keep this secret once you start walking into walls?"

  Yank let out a gruff laugh. "Well, that may take a while. Macular degeneration doesn't always progress quickly. Time'll tell. In the meantime, I had to get away from Lola before she drove me insane."

  "She knows?"

  Yank rubbed a hand over his full beard. "She knew before I did, or at least she sensed it. First she dragged me to the dang doctor, then she read all the literature. Next thing I know she's buying little items just in case."

  "Such as?"

  Yank placed his hand on his wristwatch and pressed a button. "It's 11:15 a.m.," a digital voice announced.

  Vaughn stifled a laugh.

  "She's made all kinds of crazy changes so I can get used to things before my sight goes," Yank continued, in a poor imitation of his assistant.

  Vaughn inclined his head and tried not to grin. "I take it you think she's overreacting?"

  "Is she a female?" Yank asked wryly. "You wouldn't believe what she's been up to."

  "I can only imagine." Vaughn wondered what Lola was doing to take care of this stubborn man.

  "Imagine what?" Annabelle asked, joining them in the family room.

  Vaughn glanced up. She'd changed into a pair of plaid boxers and a solid red, body hugging T-shirt. Simple and sexy enough to have him drooling. To have him dreaming of repeating last night over and over and over again.

  He shook his head hard. "Yank was just explaining his newest challenge," Vaughn said.

  The older man nodded. "It's Lola. She's gone over the edge."

  "How so?" Annabelle settled in beside her uncle, curling her legs beneath her and propping her chin in her hands. The love beaming from her eyes spoke volumes.

  She'd want to know about her uncle's condition, Vaughn thought. Heck, she deserved to know. But it wasn't his place to spill that truth, nor would he break a promise. Still, the warmth in her eyes had Vaughn wishing for things he'd never have. Things like unconditional love and acceptance.

  "Damn woman's become loose. Wearing tight-fitting pants, high heels, low-cut tops." His cheeks flamed at his description. "Lola, of all people."

  Annabelle's eyes opened wide. "And this bothers you?"

  "Hell yes, it bothers me!"

  "Pardon me, but I don't understand the problem. The ultimate bachelor is having issues because his beautiful secretary is coming on to him?"

  Vaughn could see Annabelle struggle not to let loose with laughter.

  "Bite your tongue, Annabelle Jordan. I didn't say anything about her coming on to me. But she's been dressing and acting different." He narrowed his gaze. "And you automatically figured she's making moves on me. That tells me you must've instigated the change."

  Annabelle rolled her eyes. "I did not! Though I have to admit I applaud Lola's determination."

  "You see, Vaughn? The women are ganging up on me."

  Annabelle's amused gaze shot to him and he forced a shrug. Since he'd vocally advocated Lola flaunting her assets, he opted to shut his mouth now. Besides he liked seeing the older man squirm and if Lola finally decided to give him a run for his money, and at a time when he needed a distraction, Vaughn was all for it.

  "I think you can handle whatever life throws your way, Yank," Vaughn said with a deliberate dual meaning that the other man acknowledged with a grateful nod.

  "Yank can handle anything except maybe a determined woman, right Vaughn?" Annabelle laughed and no doubt expected him to laugh, too.

  After all, she knew of what she spoke. Her determination had landed them in the sack and he'd gone all too willingly.

  He straightened his shoulders. "Yank knows better than to let any woman lead him around like a dog on a leash " he muttered, hoping Annabelle picked up the fact that he was talking about himself as well.

  "Damn straight, which is why I'm staying while Annie's working here. Get away from the floozy for a while."

  "You're staying?" Annabelle asked, obviously as surprised as Vaughn. "Here?"

  Yank nodded, unknowingly giving Vaughn a plausible reason to back off. A valid one that didn't need explanation since surely a bright woman like Annabelle would conclude there'd be no hank-panky with her uncle staying under the same roof.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ANNABELLE AND MARA were talking alone in the business office of the lodge later that day. Nick was off inspecting the damage with the electrical engineer and getting a time frame on fixing the problems, and Vaughn was tied up in meetings. Annabelle decided to use the time to implement some PR ideas with Mara's help.

  Unfortunately the other woman had other things she wanted to talk about first. "So I hear you have unexpected company?"

  Annabelle nodded. "My uncle. It seems he needs to get out of the city for a while." Though why her uncle had to show up now, when she'd just put the moves on Vaughn, and successfully, she might add, boggled her mind.

  Mara leaned back in her chair and studied Annabelle, a smile creeping onto her face. "Having family around must cramp your style, hmm?"

  Startled, Annabelle merely blinked. "I don't know what you mean." Could Mara know about her and

  Vaughn? She shook her head. Impossible. After all, they'd only just been together last night and had shown no public displays of affection at all.

  "Oh, come on! Indulge me in some girl talk here. I know you have a thing for him. And I can't help but notice he stares at you constantly with those baby blues."

  Annabelle was mortified. "I do not! And he does not! Stare or have a thing, I mean."

  "And I think the lady protests too much," Mara said laughing. "Joanne at the coffee shop said you were asking lots of questions about Vaughn when you first got to town."

  Annabelle cringed. "Would you believe I was gauging the lay of the land in PR terms?"

  Mara shook her head, laughing.

  "There are no secrets, are there?" Annabelle asked on a sigh, already resigned to divulging her feelings.

  "No secrets in this town," Mara agreed. "So can I take that as an admission?"

  Annabelle glanced over her shoulder, making certain the office door was closed. "Okay, I admit Vaughn and I are temporarily involved."

  Mara nodded slowly. "It's good you aren't expecting anything long-term. The man just doesn't know how to open up. Nick's the same way."

  Annabelle decided not to discuss Vaughn's inability to bond emotionally, especially since she felt she'd made progress. She would rather talk about Nick instead. She leaned forward in her seat. "Actually Nick's pretty transparent if you know what to look for."

  The other woman's eyes shone bright with anticipation. "Go on."

  "Not until I know you're serious about him." Annabelle had come to like
Nick and sympathize with his issues. After all, she thought wryly, everyone had insecurities whether they admitted them or not. She ought to know.

  Mara grew thoughtful for a moment. "I'm in love with Nick. Head over heels in love with the man and he won't give me the time of day."

  Relieved, Annabelle felt more comfortable discussing Nick. "He has his reasons for backing off and they really aren't personal to you. So I suggest you take the initiative. Go all out in your campaign and show him he's worth the risk."

  Mara swiveled back and forth in her chair and smiled. "I never would have pegged you as an advocate of women making the first move."

  Annabelle thought back to her silk teddy and bold knock on Vaughn's door last night and grinned. "You'd be surprised," she murmured.

  "Now you've got me confused." Mara crinkled her nose in thought. "Don't most men want to be the aggressor?"

  Annabelle had no desire to give away Nick's secrets and merely said, "Let's just say that in this case, Nick would appreciate knowing you want only him."

  Mara narrowed her gaze and groaned. "This is about Vaughn, isn't it?"

  "What makes you say that?"

  "In this town, all paths lead back to Brandon Vaughn. Besides Nick's made comments that lead me to believe he thinks I'm still interested in Brandon. Of all the stupid things. I dumped him and trust me, I have no regrets."

  "Why?" Annabelle asked, not just interested but curious why any woman would give Brandon Vaughn the boot.

  She shrugged. "No chemistry. Now Nick-" She swiped her hand over her brow in an exaggerated gesture. "He really does it for me."

  Annabelle laughed. "Then make sure he knows that."

  Anticipation sparkled in Mara's gaze. "I will."

  "Now can we get back to business?" Annabelle asked.

  Mara swiveled around in her seat so she was facing her computer screen and keyboard. "What do you need? Because anyone who gives me the advice you just did deserves my help."

  "Not to mention your boss is paying us to work?" Annabelle asked wryly.

  Mara chuckled. "That, too."