Hot Stuff (Hot Zone 1)

She shrugged. "I just got this assignment, remember? I'm not yet up to speed. But I will be." She patted the laptop he'd just hefted on top of her large suitcase at the same time his hand came to rest on the computer.

A jolt ricocheted through him, shaking his equilibrium. She sucked in a startled breath and withdrew her hand fast. Apparently she'd felt the connection, too.

Vaughn quick

ly grasped for the thread of conversation they'd suddenly dropped. Hotels, motels and where she would stay. Not exactly the safety net he'd been looking for. But obviously Yank hadn't given her any facts on this subject.

Vaughn had always found that truth was best served cold and hard. "There's no B and B, either. The nearest hotel is a solid forty minutes away. You'll be staying at my place."

One delicate, finely shaped eyebrow rose warily.

"Trust me, it's not a come-on," he said, reading her mind.

Or maybe it was his own mind he was betraying, since he couldn't stop imagining her in his king-size bed, the normally cold sheets hot from the friction of their bodies having sizzling sex.

"Are you sure about that? Because I know attraction when I feel it and this is obviously mutual."

Swallowing a groan, he met her gaze. "What my body wants and what I want are two different things." He slammed the trunk shut.

"No sense sugarcoating it," she muttered, a glimmer of hurt in her voice.

Well hell, it wasn't like he didn't desire her or find her attractive. He just didn't need or want the involvement. But, he reminded himself, he cared about her uncle and he certainly didn't want to hurt her feelings, either. He walked around to hold the passenger door open, hoping good manners would make up for the verbal slap.

"Since I'm staying with you and you don't want to make a flashy scene, what exactly are we going to tell people I'm doing?" she asked him.

They'd never settled this question yesterday and he'd spent last night thinking this through. As he'd tossed and turned, thoughts of the beautiful blonde pervading his mind, her sexy scent forever in his memory.

"We'll tell people you're an old college friend with a background in hotel management. Nobody in town will know any better and in the meantime, you'll get an inside look at the lodge and I'll get you a rundown on the problems," he said, repeating the scenario he'd concocted.

She stared at him without saying a word. He took that as agreement.

"You'll be my spin wizard, decide what kind of ad or whatever to take to fix things, and be on your way. And that, as they say, will be that." He slammed the door shut and hoped like hell he was right.

VAUGHN'S HOME TURNED OUT to be a huge, modern monstrosity built in the midst of traditional suburbia, Annabelle thought. If he was seeking to make a statement, something to say I've arrived, he'd done it in a grand way.

She didn't have a problem with the house itself, but the lack of shrubs, trees, plants and flowers gave the white stucco an austere, unwelcoming look. The best thing Annabelle could say about the place was that she'd be guaranteed breathing room and space away from the hot-blooded athlete to whom she was so attracted.

Though how she could be hot for a guy who didn't want to want her in return was beyond her. Damn her hormones anyway. She'd chosen to confront the sexual currents head-on by acknowledging them and, with any luck, neutralizing their power. Hah. If anything, she thought as she watched him unload her suitcases from the back of the truck, muscles flexing beneath his shirt, he intrigued her even more.

As she followed him up the stone steps, she focused on the reason for this trip. Damage control for the lodge, which Vaughn intended to use as a summer place for underprivileged kids. She shook her head, still unable to reconcile that altruistic part of the man with the gruff guy who disliked animals. She wondered if the charity bit was for show and she pursed her lips in thought.

Somehow she had to get a handle on the man and assess this situation and its players. Otherwise she had no way of handling his crisis. So far Vaughn wasn't cooperating. Since she had yet to meet his friends or family, or get a sense of who he was and what image he wanted to convey for the lodge, she had only this house to go by.

The large and lonely dwelling didn't bode well for her vision of a PR damage control plan. Neither did his notion of keeping her in the background for too long. She could lay low for a while, but to fix this situation, she very much intended to make her mark.

"I love your house," she said with forced enthusiasm.

"Really? I hate it." He paused at the door and dug into his pocket for the keys.

Now there was a comment worth exploring. "Then why live here?"

"Because I wanted to move back to my hometown and this was the only place that fit my needs." He flung open the front door and lugged her belongings inside. Her laptop hung from one shoulder, a large suitcase trailed behind him from one hand and he hefted her toiletry bag in the other.

He'd left the animals up to her and she held Boris and Natasha in each hand as she stepped inside. "And what needs were those?" she asked, picking up their conversation.

"Peace, quiet and space."

She nodded as if she understood. She didn't, of course. She'd lived life afraid of being separated from her loved ones. Even now, as an adult, she lived across the hall from Sophie and Micki, needing to hear their voices and feel them close by. She even filled her apartment with things, breathing and otherwise, so she'd never really feel alone.