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The Hot Zone by Carly Phillips (4)


CHAPTER FOUR

“She’s hot, Vaughn. Are you sure you aren’t fucking her?” Nick Gregory, Vaughn’s lifelong friend, asked.

Nick was also an investor in the lodge with as much at stake as Vaughn. Nick had been recently laid off from his job at CNT Sports Network and had wanted in on the project. Vaughn hadn’t needed the money, but he’d agreed anyway because there was no one he felt closer to than Nick.

Vaughn and Nick had grown up together in Greenlawn, New York. They’d rebel-roused throughout high school varsity football and, as a result, the people in town remembered them as a collective pain in the ass, even if both had returned as hometown heroes, Nick from his stint for Detroit and Vaughn for Dallas.

“Earth to Vaughn. I asked if you were screwing the lovely Miss Jordan.”

It was Nick’s best friend status that kept Vaughn from strangling him now.

Vaughn paused from lifting free weights, and with Nick spotting, put the 380 pounds back in their holder. “Hell yeah, I’m sure.” Not that it stopped him from wanting to bury himself inside all that lush femininity. “I wouldn’t need to release all this pent-up energy if I were.”

He vividly recalled the moment in the hall when he’d almost pinned her against his rock-hard body, lifted her tiny skirt and taken her right there against the wall. Vaughn sat up and let the blood rush out of his head. It had already permanently settled in another body part and would remain there as long as Annabelle stayed in his home.

He shot Nick a warning glance. “You’d better not be thinking of touching her, either, or her uncle will come after you with a shotgun.” Reminding Nick that Yank would be pissed served as an important reminder to himself. Screwing Yank’s niece would put him back in the doghouse he’d just crawled out of.

“Considering she’s way over eighteen, I don’t think Yank Morgan would be all that upset. You, on the other hand—” Nick barked out his trademark laugh.

Vaughn merely frowned. “We have enough business problems without adding a woman to the mix. Let’s just try to get things sorted out and back on schedule.”

“Good by me. I’m outta here. I’ll meet you at the site tomorrow 10:00 a.m.?” Nick asked.

“Yeah.”

“You coming upstairs?”

Vaughn eyed the treadmill. Though his knee prevented him from playing ball, he still kept in shape. “I’m going to run a mile or so first.”

“No problem. I think I’ll stop and say goodbye to your houseguest on my way out,” Nick said, a wicked grin crossing his face.

Vaughn scowled, pushed the safety key into the treadmill and joined Nick as he headed up the stairs.

*     *     *

Annabelle sat on the bed in the guest room, paperwork, laptop and documents around her. “Micki, are you still there?” She adjusted her cell phone so she could hear her sister’s voice more clearly.

She and Micki often hashed out problems and potential solutions. She was bringing her sister up-to-date on what she’d read so far in Vaughn’s files so she could figure out a methodical plan.

“I’m here. I’m just thinking. You mentioned there’ve been missed deliveries on materials. From the same company?” Micki asked.

Annabelle curled her legs beneath her. “No, that’s what’s so strange. Different companies, different times, nothing consistent here to go on. But it seems beyond the usual construction and work delays. Then there’s the occasional subcontractor who suddenly doesn’t show up and messes with the schedule. Add the heavy rains in May and June, rumors that make no sense, and things are backlogged and screwed up like crazy.”

“Bad PR,” Micki murmured.

“If they don’t open by Thanksgiving or, the latest, Christmas, they’ll lose an entire season’s worth of bookings, which are intended to help fund the camp Vaughn is planning. Another thing he never mentioned to me. I read it in the paperwork.” She exhaled hard.

“He’s a real mystery man, huh?” Micki asked.

“A contradiction is more like it. On the one hand, he’s an athlete and you know how they thrive on attention. On the other, he keeps his secrets buried deep.” She shook her head. “You’d think he’d be proud of the camp and want to publicize it all over. But who knows what goes on in that thick skull of his.”

Micki chuckled.

“Anyway, people already know there are problems and Vaughn’s been stalling cancellations with promises he may not be able to keep.” Annabelle tapped a pen against the clipboard.

“What’s your preliminary plan?” her sister asked.

“Counter the bad publicity with good, of course. Make sure anyone who’s booked knows that there are problems due to reasons they can relate to or misunderstandings that will be cleared up. And assure them that the resort will be even better in the end.”

“What do you think is really going on up there?” Micki asked.

“Either someone is deliberately sabotaging the lodge or someone’s a huge idiot. Either way, we have to make the resort and Vaughn look good.”

“I take it that’s not an issue?” Micki asked.

“Heck, no. The man always looks good,” Annabelle said, laughing. “And to do the same for the lodge, I was thinking of offering premiums to already-confirmed customers. If the opening is stalled and they have to be rebooked later in the year, we’d have to give them something tangible in return anyway.”

“Maybe you could promise them one free night?”

“Sounds like a possibility.” Annabelle smiled and jotted down Micki’s suggestion. “More importantly, though, I need to publicize Vaughn’s contribution to the community. The camp is one thing that will undoubtedly play well to the public. I need an angle to hook people in and keep them trusting in Vaughn and this project while he works out the kinks. And I’d like to find out why he’s doing this. I might be able to use that information in the campaign.”

“Sounds like you need to do some digging,” Micki murmured.

“Especially since he’s been so closemouthed about himself,” Annabelle agreed. “I need to see the lodge, meet the workers and get a genuine feeling for the people in town.”

“Gauge their reaction to the place being built,” Micki said.

“Better yet, I need to gauge their reaction to Vaughn.”

“What’s your reaction to the man?” her sister asked.

Annabelle had always been closest to Micki, not only because they understood each other so well, but because with their parents’ deaths, Annabelle had seen it as her duty to always be by her littlest sister’s side and make sure she felt loved and cared for. The fact that Annabelle desperately needed those emotions in return always made her feel a bit guilty, as if she were using Micki to fill her own needs. But then what were sisters for? All three sisters had their strengths and weaknesses that made the business and the family work.

She didn’t hesitate to confide in Micki now. “He’s incredible, Mick. So innately sensual, and sexy as hell.”

“He sounds delicious,” Micki said, dreamily.

She laughed at her sister’s description, a pathetic attempt to cover the all-over, tingling warmth that made her feel like Vaughn was in the room with her right now. “Well I’ve learned my lesson and I’m staying clear of the man. How’s your baseball player?” she asked Micki.

“He isn’t mine and he’s fine. I’m about finished here and ready to come home. Oops,” Micki said, obviously catching her slip.

Annabelle laughed. “Like I didn’t know you and Sophie were setting me up when you claimed to be too busy to take on Vaughn as your new client?” She piled the folders and papers and moved them to the nightstand. “I’m over Randy, the jerk. And, thanks for the thought, but I don’t need a man to help me forget about him, especially another self-absorbed guy who’s got a history of bedding jock bunnies. And since I’ve just described Brandon Vaughn, rest assured, I can handle him just fine. From a nice, long distance.”

A slow round of applause startled her and she jerked her gaze toward the door. Vaughn stood there with a man she’d seen while she was walking the dog earlier.

A hot, embarrassed flush rose to her cheeks. “Gotta go now. Bye.” She hit end on her cell phone and glared at the two intruders. “Ever hear of knocking to announce your presence?”

Vaughn grinned and began a lazy, deliberate knock-knock-knock on the door.

“Too late.” She jumped up from her seat on the bed to meet them on even footing. The dog followed, hopping up and down on his hind legs to get their attention.

“Hey Q-Tip, heel,” Vaughn said to the dog.

Annabelle scowled at him, which did nothing to distract her or alter his effect on her. Both men’s sheer size, strength, power and masculinity overwhelmed her, but only Vaughn’s did so in a blatantly sexual way. That damned attraction again.

The other man, a blonde whom many women would find good looking, stepped forward, hand extended. “Nick Gregory,” he said. “Vaughn’s partner.”

“I’ve been reading up on you. Especially since Vaughn never told me he had a partner in this venture.” And she’d wondered why a man with business problems had failed to mention his partner.

Nick laughed, apparently finding the omission amusing. Annabelle didn’t. How could she help if Vaughn left out information? She made a mental note to dig deeper into Nick and Vaughn’s relationship.

“That’s Vaughn’s ego for you. Can’t ever admit he needs anyone.”

“I don’t need anyone but myself,” Vaughn said.

A warning Annabelle knew she ought to heed. “Now that we’ve established that, anyone care to tell me what you’re both doing here?”

“Just came to say good-night, babe.” Nick winked at her.

“I’m nobody’s babe.” She caught Vaughn’s smirk and wondered what the man was thinking.

She glanced at both men as she deliberately shifted her long jersey that covered her shorts, drawing both men’s attention to her bare legs. She wasn’t surprised when their gazes traveled up to her low-cut vee-neck top.

“Sweet dreams, fellas,” she said, hoping they tossed and turned all night long. It would serve them right for eavesdropping.

Especially Vaughn, whom she knew would star in her erotic dreams, all night long.

*     *     *

The next morning, with an hour to spare before they were to leave for the lodge, Annabelle took Boris for a long walk. Summer had already hit the upstate town and the heat and humidity were in full swing. The heaviness in the air did nothing to help her wake up after her sleepless night.

Vaughn’s house was on the outskirts of the small town and everything was within walking distance. She paused at the window of Cozy Cups, a quaint storefront decorated with pinups and children’s drawings. The aroma of brewed coffee assaulted her senses and her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t had her daily dose of caffeine. Besides, a good PR person never passed up an opportunity to learn the lay of the land and the slant of the people who inhabited it.

Decision made, she bent, picked up Boris and headed inside. The shop was a countrified Starbucks and a comfortable warmth settle around her. She got a renewed jolt of much-needed energy just by inhaling.

A pretty brunette who appeared to be about Annabelle’s age stood behind the counter. “Hi. Welcome to Cozy Cups. What can I get for you?” she asked with a large smile.

“That’s more of a welcome than I ever get at my regular place in the city and I’ve been going there for the last two years,” Annabelle said, laughing. “I guess there really is a difference between the city and the country mouse.”

The woman grinned. “I didn’t think you were from around here. I know most people who walk into this place. I’m Joanne Walsh.”

“Annabelle Jordan. Nice to meet you.” Since the woman had a genuine smile, Annabelle decided she’d reach out. Not just because she was on a fishing expedition, but because she was naturally drawn to her warmth. “I’m visiting a friend,” Annabelle offered by way of information.

“First, tell me what I can get for you, then tell me this fella’s name,” she said, petting a squirming Boris, who was obviously dying to sample all the delicious aromas for himself. “And then, you can fill me in on who you’re visiting.”

Annabelle liked Joanne’s outgoing personality immediately. “Light coffee, Grande, Boris and Brandon Vaughn. In that order.”

Joanne shook her head, her brown eyes sparkling with laughter. “You do like things big and strong.”

Annabelle wasn’t touching that comment, but she couldn’t suppress a grin.

With a wink, Joanne turned and poured a large cup of coffee with a touch of regular milk, then slid the cup across the counter.

Annabelle took a minute to inhale the fresh aroma before taking a sip. “Mmm. You make a good java.”

“Thank you. So, tell me how you know Vaughn.”

“We go way back,” Annabelle said, keeping her cover story in mind.

“Do tell.” Joanne propped her head in her hands as she leaned across the counter. “Vaughn and I go way back, too. High school.”

“Boyfriend and girlfriend?” Annabelle asked, too eager for information on the man.

“Yep, but don’t remind my husband. The only way those men can coexist in this town is to ignore the past.”

Annabelle rolled her eyes. “Men and their egos. I understand only too well,” she said, thinking of her many clients ruled by their pride and nothing else. She sensed there might be more to Vaughn, but without proof, she was afraid she was running on pure hope. “Prom King and Queen?” she asked only half joking.

Naah. We didn’t last until June. A short fling and Vaughn was ready to move on. Good thing for me since I hooked up with Teddy. He’s my husband.” Joanne’s voice melted with warmth at the mention of his name.

Envy for the relationship she’d never have swelled in Annabelle’s chest. Joanne obviously didn’t hold any grudges or have any long unrequited feelings for Vaughn.

“Vaughn’s not exactly the relationship type, is he?”

Joanne shook her head. “Since high school he’s stuck to the same M.O. with women. Love ’em and leave ’em. It’s sad for him since he’s such a great guy and doesn’t know what he’s missing. Instead, he puts all his free time into either the lodge or the high school kids he volunteers with.”

Annabelle’s PR brain immediately picked up on information that would help her use his reputation to further the lodge’s image. “I’d love to hear more.”

“Vaughn really gives of himself to the kids in this town.”

So, that altruistic streak went deeper than Annabelle had originally thought. Inside she warmed at the possibility that Vaughn was really more than pure ego. “He’s so stubbornly silent, I know practically nothing about his life,” she told Joanne, in a not so subtle attempt to pump the other woman for information.

Joanne shot her a sympathetic glance. “I hear you. I don’t think even Nick knows what goes on in Vaughn’s head, and he’s his best friend.”

“Speaking of Nick, I was wondering about his relationship with Vaughn. They seem close.”

“As brothers,” Joanne said, nodding. “They watch each other’s back. On the field in high school and in every other way you can imagine now.”

“No jealousy?”

Joanne burst out laughing. “Aside from basic male one-upmanship, no way. You see, Nick’s house was Vaughn’s escape from parental pressure growing up. Nick’s folks were like surrogate parents for Vaughn. Everyone in town knows Vaughn’s mom and dad are elitist snobs.”

“And Nick never cared that Vaughn’s career was just that much bigger than his?” she asked.

“Not that he lets on.” Joanne swiped the counter with a damp rag. “Look, it’s fact that Vaughn’s just pure magic, a legend in his own right. Nick’s come to terms with it. It’s not like he hasn’t had his own great career and all.”

Annabelle digested the information and knew Joanne spoke from the heart, or at least told it the way she saw it. Still, Annabelle wondered if Nick had truly made peace with coming in second to Vaughn in all things, or if he nurtured a grudge deep inside.

“That’s good to know,” she said to Joanne, not divulging her doubts.

“Why do you ask?”

Before Annabelle could reply, a group of workmen strode into the store, giving her a reprieve from having to explain her motives.

Joanne sighed. “I’m sorry. But if you’re in town and want to talk more when I’m not working?”

Annabelle nodded. “I’d love that,” she said, meaning it. With her sisters in the city and Vaughn not exactly a talkative housemate, she knew she’d need to hear a friendly voice every now and then.

The men filed in behind her and Annabelle shifted Boris in one arm and held her coffee in the other as she dug in her purse for money.

Joanne waved a hand. “Friendship’s my price for a cup of coffee,” the other woman said, treating Annabelle to a brief smile before turning her attention to the new group of customers.

“Thanks.”

“Hey, pretty lady,” one of the men said to Annabelle. “I get off work at five. You free?”

Annabelle glanced down at her sweats and knew her face held not a trace of makeup. She decided either the town had no single women left or he was blind. “No, thanks,” she said.

He stepped closer. “Come on. I can show you a good time,” he said, deliberately bumping his hip against hers.

“So can Vaughn,” Joanne piped in. “And if he catches you horning in on his territory, you’ll be out a job and probably a couple of ribs. Go back to your wife, Roy.” Joanne chuckled. She obviously knew the man well.

He grumbled and the men behind him snickered, offering a few choice comments at his stupidity.

Roy cast Annabelle a sheepish look. “Why didn’t you say you was with Vaughn?” he said, his voice filled with awe and respect. “I’d never move in on his woman.”

“I’m not—”

Joanne made a slicing motion across her throat, indicating Annabelle should shut up while she was free of Roy’s advances.

Joanne poured the men’s coffee without them putting in a request and Annabelle guessed they were regulars. All the while, Joanne continued to talk. “Roy’s got his faults, but we put up with him because he’s got his good points. He’s an excellent father and he respects Vaughn.”

“Everyone likes Vaughn,” Roy said, ignoring Joanne’s other comment.

Murmurs of assent grew around him. Vaughn was obviously a popular town legend.

“He’s brought employment to town and he’s helping my kid stick with school so’s he can get his football scholarship and do better than his old man.”

Annabelle was grateful for the insight into Vaughn through the townsfolk’s eyes. They perceived her client not just as a businessman but as a human being. So far, he rated top notch. All boded well for the lodge.

“Well don’t you worry, Roy. Your mistake will stay just between us,” Annabelle promised him.

Annabelle placed Boris back on the ground and he took off at a run for the grass across the way. She couldn’t stop thinking of Joanne, Roy, and the other men who admired Vaughn, all with good reason. Despite his reputation as a womanizer, she had to admit, she was beginning to admire him, too.

*     *     *

As Annabelle returned to Vaughn’s house, Boris finally decided he’d found the appropriate spot and squatted to pee on Vaughn’s front lawn.

Of course, her host chose that exact moment to step outside.

He wore black nylon sweats and a gray shirt, ripped at the sleeves. He hadn’t shaved and he was still sexy as hell.

“Couldn’t you take him somewhere else?” Vaughn asked as he strode down the front steps.

Annabelle forced a bored shrugged. “Boris picks his own time and place. Don’t all men?”

Vaughn’s gaze fell to the dog who’d started to kick up the grass on the lawn with his hind legs. Annabelle tried not to groan.

“That brings up another interesting question. Aren’t male dogs supposed to lift their legs to mark their territory?” Vaughn asked.

“Maybe he doesn’t consider your home his territory. You certainly don’t act like you want him here.”

“I don’t. But don’t try to convince me he’s smart enough to squat here because of it.” Vaughn laughed then, the sound taking her off guard.

“Would you believe that when Boris was at the shelter with other male dogs, he did lift his leg? Go figure. I guess there are times he wants to be one of the boys.” She shook her head, still shocked at the dog’s actions.

“Locker room behavior,” Vaughn said. “Now that I can relate to.” He leaned down and patted Boris on the head, harder than Annabelle would have liked, but she wasn’t about to interrupt the unexpected, bonding moment.

His hand was large compared to her mutt’s smaller head, and the contradiction, added to Vaughn’s attempt to make nice to the animal, showed a completely different side to the man. One she knew he hadn’t intended to reveal. And one he wouldn’t want her to see any more than she wanted to like him. But she did.

Without warning, he paused, his hand midair and glanced up at her. Her gaze locked with his. She wanted to thank him for the glimpse into his soul because that’s exactly what she thought she’d just seen.

“Brandon!” a shrill voice said, shattering the beautiful morning silence and destroying their moment.

He rose to his feet, squaring his broad shoulders, stepping away from her and withdrawing. Annabelle felt as if she could see the walls being erected around him with each movement, and wondered what had caused such an abrupt change.

“Hello, Estelle,” he said, his expression hard and unyielding. The ex-jock who took no crap from anyone had returned.

Annabelle narrowed her gaze, curious as to who this woman was, and why she had the ability to turn off anything soft inside Brandon Vaughn.

“That’s no way to refer to your mother, especially in front of strangers,” the woman said, answering Annabelle’s silent question.

Annabelle stared at the immaculate woman in the pant suit. Her slacks were pressed, her heels high, and her sweater jacket screamed high-end designer. Annabelle ought to know, since she and Sophie often wore the suits to work. She’d never have pegged the elegantly dressed female as Vaughn’s mother. She was too pristine looking, too uptight, too severe. At a glance, it became obvious that mother and son had no more in common inside than out.

Annabelle wondered why Brandon would turn to ice around his mother and she was dying to find out. Since being orphaned, studying other people’s families had become her favorite pastime. Watching and figuring out what kind of parental relationship people forged was practically an obsession.

When Vaughn remained silent, his mother stepped forward. “I see your manners haven’t improved. Since you aren’t you going to introduce me, I’ll do it myself. I’m Estelle Vaughn, Brandon’s mother,” she said to Annabelle. “And who may I ask, are you?”

“She’s an old college friend and she’s visiting for a few days,” Vaughn said, obviously resigned to the introduction. “Annabelle Jordan, meet my mother.”

“It’s a pleasure.” Annabelle wrapped Boris’s leash tighter around her hand to prevent him from jumping on the perfect-looking woman.

“I wish I’d known you were bringing company,” Estelle chided her son as if he were a child.

But there was nothing childlike about Vaughn anymore and he bristled at his mother’s tone. “Why? So you could bake a cake?”

Annabelle winced as did Estelle. Any mother would want to be spoken to with respect, yet Vaughn had denied Estelle the basic courtesy. Annabelle couldn’t understand. How many times had she wished her mother had lived so that they could bond, or fight and make up again? Yet Vaughn had two living parents that he easily dismissed. Didn’t the man understand the importance of family?

“Oh, I know. You’d have thrown one of your infamous dinner parties,” Vaughn continued. “Well, you don’t need to bother yourself. Annabelle’s a guest in my home. I wasn’t planning on bringing her into yours.”

Feeling like a guilty eavesdropper, Annabelle took a step back. Neither mother nor son seemed to notice.

“Now that’s a pity,” Estelle said, her voice seeming to be earnest. “Any friend of yours would be more than welcome. But I’m sure you two already have plans of your own.” This time innuendo suggested that more was going on between Annabelle and Vaughn than mere friendship.

Which led Annabelle to wonder if Vaughn often brought women—sports groupies in particular—home with him. She immediately discounted the idea, recalling his reaction to her red car, his unwillingness to let her call attention to them, and his need for peace and quiet. Vaughn might be all show when he was on display, but in his hometown, he was about privacy. If he wanted the lodge’s perception turned around, that would have to change.

But, at the moment, Annabelle was all about ending this uncomfortable discussion between mother and son.

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