Hot Stuff

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Hot Stuff Page 12

by Carly Phillips


  "Okay, here's the thing. I was thinking that we need to use Brandon Vaughn's generosity to counter the bad publicity caused by the sabotage."

  "How?"

  "By sending letters to all registered guests informing them that in exchange for not canceling their reservations during this time, they are receiving one free night's stay as thanks."

  Mara nodded and began typing. "On letterhead, right?"

  "Yes. And maybe we can include a brochure with a reminder that it's never too soon to book spring break?"

  Mara jotted a note on a pad next to her mouse. "Got it."

  "Okay then." Annabelle gathered her papers and stuffed them back into her briefcase, then swung her purse over her shoulder. "I have family back at Vaughn's that I have to deal with."

  "I'll handle this and, sometime today, I'll deal with Nick."

  Annabelle rolled her eyes and headed for the door, her thoughts on her obstinate uncle. "At this point, I'm not sure whose job I envy more right now."

  ANNABELLE JUGGLED her cell phone against her ear as she searched for money to pay the taxi she'd taken to Vaughn's house. She slipped the bills to the driver and headed up the front walk.

  "So I was thinking that if I tell Uncle Yank that Lola's coming on to Spence Atkins, he'll hightail it back to the city," Annabelle said to Sophie, explaining the plan she'd concocted to send her uncle home where he belonged. As much as she loved him, she had a limited time with Vaughn and she didn't want to lose any of it.

  "I'm sorry but I don't see that happening, Annie. You see-"

  "Hang on," Annabelle interrupted her sister and dug for Vaughn's spare house key she'd dropped into her too-big bag. Key found, she let herself inside.

  "Don't be so analytical," she told Sophie. "It doesn't have to be true. I just need a gut reaction from Uncle Yank when it comes to-Lola!" Annabelle stopped short upon seeing the other woman standing in Vaughn's front hall,

  "Not analytical, just factual." Sophie's voice carried through the phone line. "I assume you just ran into Lola? I would have warned you if you weren't always in such a rush." Sophie sounded truly amused.

  "You'll pay," Annabelle promised her.

  "I already am. I'm working with Randy, the jerk," her sister reminded her. "Say hello to Uncle Yank and Lola for me." And with a sudden click, Sophie was gone.

  Leaving Annabelle alone to deal with her uncle. And Lola. Who looked beautiful, ten years younger and like a handful of woman for her uncle to handle.

  "So you're both here," Annabelle said into the silence.

  "You're uncle needs me," Lola explained. "And I missed you." She gave Annabelle a big hug.

  Annabelle hugged her back. As she inhaled, she took in an old, familiar scent. "Love's Baby Soft?" she asked, quietly.

  Lola smiled. "I want him to remember the old days."

  Annabelle's mouth opened wide at Lola's admission. So she was trying to seduce her uncle. But couldn't she do it in the city so Annabelle could get back to seducing Vaughn?

  "Did you come to take Uncle Yank home?" she asked hopefully.

  "I can hear you," Uncle Yank called out from his seat on the couch where Boris lay on his lap and Spike curled on the sofa cushion near his head. "So don't be talking about me like I'm not in the room."

  Lola shook her head. "Then stop acting like you're deaf, dumb and-"

  "Don't say it" he growled. "And I thought I left you home to handle things for me." He glanced at Annabelle, a smug look on his face as he said, "She always does what I ask."

  "Maybe she used to but that was the old Lola," the woman who'd raised Annabelle said. "This is the new and improved version."

  The other woman was right. Annabelle didn't recognize her. Her usual long black skirt had been replaced by an above-the-knee number, her sensible flats were now stilettos that Annabelle would be proud to own, in red no less. And her prim, buttoned-to-the-collar blouse was now a form-fitting, boat-necked sleeveless black shirt. With stainless-steel studs along the neckline.

  Before Annabelle could reply, Vaughn strode in and let out a whistle of appreciation. Now the gathering was complete, Annabelle thought.

  "Thanks, Brandon," Lola said blushing.

  He inclined his head. "The pleasure's all mine." He lifted his dark sunglasses off his nose and hooked them into his shirt.

  Oh, he was good, Annabelle thought. The attitude perfectly matched the sexy body in tight jeans and a Polo collarless tee. Her temperature spiked just looking at the man.

  Vaughn glanced from Lola to Yank. "She doesn't look loose to me."

  Annabelle nearly choked.

  "Loose?' Lola strode over to Yank and slapped him on the side of the head. "Maybe I will accept Spencer Atkins's invitation to dinner when I get back to town."

  Annabelle stifled a laugh. Lola was doing what Annabelle herself had already contemplated. Using Spencer to make her uncle jealous. Judging by the red flush on his face, it had worked.

  "The hell you will," her uncle bellowed. "He only asked you out because he thinks you've suddenly become easy."

  Lola straightened her shoulders and held her head high. "At least he asked me out, unlike one stubborn old man I know."

  "Old? Who are you calling old?"

  "Oh my God, what's wrong with them?" Annabelle asked Vaughn in a low tone.

  He cocked an eyebrow. "You really have to ask? It's unrelieved sexual frustration," he muttered.

  "Oh Lord," she said, shooting a startled look the bickering couple's way. The two interlopers didn't seem to notice. "Think we ought to leave them alone?"

  He nodded. "Might as well. It's not like we can do anything to help them. Any chance this'll blow over soon?" he asked her.

  Annabelle shrugged. "I've never seen them like this. Uncle Yank's always been dense, but Lola's the unknown here. She's completely different. It's like she's set her sights on a goal and he's it."

  In fact, Annabelle thought, as Vaughn headed to the kitchen and she went to walk the dog, Lola and her uncle reminded Annabelle a bit of herself and Vaughn.

  She only hoped Yank's complete refusal to have anything to do with Lola wasn't a bad omen for all of their futures.

  VAUGHN WONDERED how his life had gotten so out of control. At work he had someone looking to undermine his lodge and at home he had the invasion of the relatives. Except they weren't his relatives and he wasn't used to so much company and noise around him. Strangely enough, he enjoyed the tumult. He was even beginning to like having the animals underfoot, not that he'd admit as much to Annabelle.

  He would prefer a big dog to the Q-Tip, but since it was only temporary, he could handle the fairy mutt. He snagged a piece of white meat chicken from his plate and snuck it to the pooch hopping at his feet under the dinner table.

  "Stop feeding the dog. You'll spoil him," Annabelle said, catching him in the act.

  He shot her an amused glare. "And sleeping in your bed isn't doing the same thing?"

  She shrugged. "I like the company."

  He figured as much. The animals obviously filled a void in her life, but with such a rambunctious family, he wondered why she felt the emptiness in the first place. He, on the other hand, had his parents alive, well and disapproving as ever. They lived in the same town and he might as well be alone. No wonder he'd sought out Yank Morgan again.

  He glanced at Lola and Yank who were eating in unusual silence. "So everyone enjoying the meal?" Vaughn asked. He'd driven into town where a new Boston Market had opened up and brought home a full dinner of chicken, mashed potatoes, vegetables and dinner rolls.

  Everyone glanced at each other and remained silent.

  "Boris likes it," Annabelle finally said.

  "It was delicious, Brandon. And I'm grateful for your hospitality." Lola carried her plate to the sink, despite his protests, rinsed and placed it in the dishwasher. Then she returned for Yank's, pulling the dish out from under him.

  "Hey I wasn't finished yet," he grumbled.

  "Would you rather clean
up yourself? Because I'm exhausted from the drive and I'm turning in early."

  Vaughn thought it best not to offer to clean for Yank and piss Lola off, and a smirking but quiet Annabelle obviously agreed.

  "Fine, clear my plate," Yank muttered.

  "You could stand to lose a few pounds anyway." Lola finished with his place setting.

  "I'll take care of the rest, Lola. Why don't you go get some rest?" Annabelle said.

  "Thanks, I think I will. Night all." Her gaze encompassed both Vaughn and Annabelle, deliberately excluding Yank.

  "Night, Lola," they both murmured.

  She headed for her guest room upstairs.

  Vaughn had had his cleaning woman open up two of the upstairs rooms, dust and clean them out to give both Yank and Lola their privacy. From speaking with Lola, he knew Yank's eyesight wasn't a real issue yet and walking stairs posed no problem. Since Yank had wanted to feel like he'd gotten away from the world, Vaughn provided him an upstairs haven. The only drawback was that he had Lola close by, Vaughn thought wryly,

  "Would you like dessert?" Annabelle asked her uncle once Lola had gone.

  "Why not? Might as well give the dragon lady something else to yell at me about," he said, referring to Lola's behavior.

  "Something tells me it's time for you to turn in, too," Annabelle suggested sweetly.

  He frowned. "I thought Vaughn and I could talk some first."

  Annabelle waved a hand. "I'll clean up in here. Maybe in the meantime, Vaughn can talk some sense into you as far as Lola's concerned. And as far as your staying here, don't you have a business that needs you in the city?"

  Vaughn saw his cue and grabbed at it. "Yank's welcome to stay here as long as he wants." As a buffer between himself and Yank's niece, a woman whose every facet he liked more and more.

  Annabelle narrowed her gaze. "You surprise me."

  "Why? You thought I'd be an inhospitable pig?" he asked with a friendly grin on his face.

  She shook her head. "I just thought you liked your privacy and needed your space." And with that, she began stacking the remainder of the dishes and cleaning the table.

  He mouthed a silent thank-you her way before turning to her uncle. "Yank, want to go have a drink in the family room?"

  A long drink. Long enough for the women in the house to go to sleep and let the men be in peace.

  ANNABELLE FOCUSED on the night ahead. While Uncle Yank and Vaughn shared a drink and talked, she took Boris for his last walk and cleaned Natasha's cage. Spike, she assumed, was perched on either Vaughn's or Yank's lap. She was female, after all. Alone in her room, Annabelle washed up and undressed for the evening. Since Uncle Yank or Lola could walk in or catch her in the hall sneaking to Vaughn's room, the silk teddy was out. That left her with the jerseys she felt most comfortable in anyway. Once she was finished washing up and changing, she glanced over at her empty bed.

  Loneliness seemed to emanate from the double mattress. She shook her head in frustration. Every night at home she slept alone, yet because she'd spent one night with Brandon Vaughn, one spectacular night, she craved his company. Not only had she gotten a tempting taste of sharing, and wanted more, but she knew her time with Vaughn was limited to this business trip. She'd be darned if she'd let an unexpected family visit ruin it for her.

  At the reminder of family, Annabelle's concern for her uncle rose. Something was up with him, she had no doubt. He wouldn't travel all this way to Vaughn's just to escape from Lola. Annabelle pursed her lips and thought hard, but came up blank. She obviously wouldn't be finding out what Uncle Yank's real problem was, at least not yet. So she turned her focus to her own issues.

  Vaughn was shutting down. He was using her uncle's visit as a means of putting up a wall between them. No shared meals, no joint cleanup, no long talks over dinner. Nothing. Annabelle had had every intention of correcting the situation. Though she was by no means certain she'd be welcome, as soon as she heard the door to Vaughn's room close, Annabelle drew a deep breath for courage and headed down the hall.

  Like last night she knocked on his door. Seconds passed that felt like forever. Finally the door opened wide and Vaughn stood before her.

  "Annabelle," he said gruffly, his voice filled with longing and desire. But he didn't invite her inside.

  "Can we talk?" She swallowed hard.

  He nodded, his big body blocking the doorway.

  "Inside," she prodded. "So we don't have an audience."

  With a groan, he stepped aside and gestured for her to come in. "This is crazy," he said as he shut the door behind them. "Your uncle's upstairs."

  "I'm over twenty-one," she reminded him. "Uncle Yank has no say. I respect him, but I won't let you use that as an excuse to avoid me."

  "It's not an excuse. I need to earn back your uncle's respect," Vaughn said.

  She reached a hand out and stroked his cheek. "I'll sneak out in the morning."

  His blue eyes dilated and darkened in hue but his next words smothered her hope. "I'm not sleeping with you while your uncle's under the same roof."

  She admired his chivalry and old-fashioned values. "All I want to do is share your bed." She didn't want to disrespect her family any more than he did, but she wanted to be with Vaughn. Just lying next to him would be enough.

  Uh-oh.

  Obviously despite her self-made promises not to get attached, there was a definite emotional component to her need.

  "You can stay," he said, understanding in his expression.

  She'd thought his mere presence would be enough yet as she joined him in bed and Vaughn shut the light and rolled over to go to sleep, she realized it was definitely possible to be with someone and still feel alone.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  VAUGHN AWOKE to the unfamiliar sounds of someone tossing and turning. It took only a second for things to register and for him to realize it was Annabelle, murmuring fitfully in her sleep while her body jerked against his.

  He might have successfully fought temptation last night, but only because he hadn't touched her. Hadn't allowed himself to connect emotionally. That was then. With her this upset even in sleep, he had no choice but to break his vow to keep his distance.

  Unless he wanted to watch her suffer. He didn't.

  "Annie." He reached over and pulled her tight against him, shaking her gently. "Wake up, sweetheart. You're having a bad dream."

  Her head turned from side to side. "We'll be good, I promise. Don't separate us," she pleaded, then suddenly jumped up and looked around with unseeing eyes.

  "Annabelle," he said softly.

  She turned and focused on him.

  He saw in her face the exact moment she realized where she was.

  "I'm sorry," she murmured, ducking her head and not meeting his gaze. "I should go." She tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her leave.

  "Tell me about the dream." He brushed her hair with his hand.

  She eased back into his arms and her muscles seemed to relax a little. "I've had these nightmares for as long as I can remember."

  Holding her tight, her lithe body molded to his, he inhaled the fragrant scent of her hair and fought his body's response and the desire building. A desire to ease her pain the only way he knew how, to bury himself deep inside her body and make her think of nothing except him.

  But even he knew better than to think sex was the answer to anyone's problems. "The dreams started when your parents died?" he asked.

  "Yes. I told you I wasn't even sure Uncle Yank would take us in."

  He swallowed hard. "I thought you just meant you were frightened and made that assumption."

  "It was more than that. I heard the social worker tell him that if he didn't take all three of us, we'd go to foster care. Separate homes."

  She swallowed a sob and he thought his heart would crack at the admission. "But your uncle kept all of you."

  "And I kept an eye on my sisters. I made sure they behaved, or I tried to. I figured if we were good girls, he wouldn't
send us away."

  He massaged her shoulder with one hand, trying to ease a pain too ingrained for mere reassurance to touch. "Yank would never have let you be separated."

  She tried to laugh, but choked instead. "I was twelve and I had no way of knowing that," she said, her voice trembling.

  "Good point. And these dreams?" he asked, pushing when he should let things go.

  She sighed. "They come almost nightly."

  His gut told him he'd regret what he was about to say next. "But you didn't have any the first night we were together. At least not that I heard."

  "You didn't reject me that night." She drew a deep breath and rolled over to meet his gaze. "Look, I'm not trying to give you a guilt trip, it's just fact," she said, her tone earnest. "But last night you let me stay because I begged. You didn't want me here and I'm sure the dream came back because in my heart, I knew that."

  He winced, his gut churning, his emotions too wrapped up with this woman. "I want you here. It's just that it's complicated."

  A soft smile curved her lips. "Welcome to my world."

  He couldn't help but laugh and at that moment, the alarm clock Annabelle had set the night before went off, signaling it was time for her to leave before her uncle or Lola woke up, ventured downstairs and found them together.

  "Saved by the bell," Annabelle murmured and once again tried to roll away, this time to rise for the day.

  Though he should have let her go, he allowed his heart to overrule his head. "Annabelle?" he said, pulling her back.

  "Yes?"

  He sucked in a deep breath, "Don't ever doubt I want you. Here. In bed with me."

  She deserved to know that truth and not have old insecurities resurrected because he had his own anxieties, he thought. He laughed, shaking his head.

  "What's so funny?"

  He groaned. "I am. Or should I say, life is. So, same time, same place tonight?" He extended the invitation despite himself.

  She answered with a huge smile and a kiss. Her lips came down on his and parted immediately, her tongue slipping deep inside his mouth. The kiss spoke of suppressed need and longing, of an emotional yearning.

  And damned if he didn't respond to that. All rational thought fled and he rolled her over until his body covered hers and then he took control of the inferno between them. Or so he thought until her hand slipped into the waistband of his boxers and unerringly found him, hard, erect and wanting her.

 

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