"We'll see."
She crooked her finger and as if he were connected by a string, he drew inexorably closer until her lips were inches from his. In that moment, he wanted her with a ferocity that rocked his world. Wanted her more than any other woman at any other time in his life.
"No, you’ll see. Because the answers I'm looking for could very well determine the success or failure of your beloved lodge."
He glanced at her glossy lips and full pout. Through sheer willpower, he didn't allow his gaze to drop lower, to the enticing vee of her top and the fleshy mounds beneath, but his fingers twitched anyway.
Suddenly she straightened and with a sassy flip of her hair and a smile of female satisfaction on her lips, she reached for the leash she'd left on the counter. "And now I think I'll go take my dog for a walk."
Before he could think, let alone answer, she whirled away, out of reach, leaving nothing but her fragrant scent and the promise of a restless night's sleep in her wake.
LOLA PICKED UP the telephone, then placed it down again. She'd promised Yank she'd keep his secret, but for how long? How could she not tell the girls about the diagnosis on his eyes?
The ophthalmologist's words came back to her with clarity. Macular degeneration could progress slowly or quickly depending on the person. And there were new treatments that could slow or halt its progression, the success rate also depending on each particular case. She and Yank had the written information, but he was refusing to read about it, at least right now. The doctor said denial was normal at first and as soon as he adjusted to his situation, he'd come around. Lola hoped so. By the time he did, she intended to be fully versed on all of his options.
But the girls, they needed to know. She'd just have to give Yank a deadline by which he either told them or she'd do it herself.
As for Yank, while sitting in the doctor's office, she'd glanced at his profile and accepted that he was the man she loved. If he needed a reason to push forward and help himself, she'd just have to give him one.
She glanced at the various shopping bags spread over her room, which contained her new wardrobe. The wardrobe that would hopefully catch the attention of any man, even one with blurry vision and a thick skull.
Now all she needed was the nerve to wear the clothing. But Lola was certain she'd find the courage. Because her future was at stake.
CHAPTER SEVEN
VAUGHN FELT SOMETHING warm and soft lying beside him. Slow, even breathing comforted him. He rolled over, opened his eyes, saw green eyes peering at him and yelled at the top of his lungs. "Annabelle, get the hell in here!"
His loud voice scared what he thought was a cat, causing the animal to dive onto the floor and probably crawl beneath the bed.
Annabelle barged into the room. "What's wrong?" she asked, coming to a skidding halt.
"I woke up with a cat staring me in the face." Vaughn pushed himself back against the pillows and folded his arms across his chest.
"You did, huh?" She lowered her gaze and her stare landed on his chest. "Uh, Vaughn? Are you naked beneath that sheet?" As if picking up where they'd left off last night, a slow, deliberate, sexy smile tilted her lips.
"Don't change the subject." If she didn't notice his body's reaction to her, he wasn't about to point it out.
"Then answer the question," she said, licking her lips, slowly, a woman with an obvious agenda. "What are you wearing beneath that sheet?"
He let out a groan. Why did it seem she was always in charge? And why did he enjoy it so damn much? "Same thing I always wear to bed. Nothing," he replied.
She blinked and her stare lingered on his bare chest. "So you're talking to me now and you're naked?"
"The cat?" he reminded her through gritted teeth. "I woke up with a strange cat in my bed."
"Better than a strange woman, I suppose."
He rolled his eyes. "Look, you came here with a dog and a rabbit and now
we've added a cat. How, when and for God's sake, why?"
No way would he continue to discuss his state of undress. He already had a morning hard-on and that only grew when he looked at his houseguest. Her hair was disheveled from sleep and her face lacked any makeup or artifice. On her luscious body, she wore a short sleeve T-shirt and matching Jockey shorts. She had more coverage than a bikini would provide and yet the morning-after look was so much more provocative. Sexier in a subtle, leave-it-to-your-imagination kind of way.
Without another word, she crossed the room and sat on the end of the bed with a huff, not at all uncomfortable being closer to him, confirming his hunch of an agenda that had nothing to do with sex. The talk of him being naked was a deliberate distraction. His being buck beneath the sheets wasn't an issue for her. His catching her with another animal in his house was.
"Well?" he asked, striving for focus when all he wanted to do was give in to the intense urge to tangle naked between the sheets with her.
She sighed. "I found the cat while walking Boris last night. She didn't have a collar, was purring and obviously hungry so I brought her back here, gave her some tuna and put her in my room. Obviously I forgot to shut the door tight after I walked them this morning so she joined you."