"A Superbowl ring wasn't enough for the old man," Vaughn explained to Annabelle in a bored voice she didn't buy for one second.

His father didn't find the biggest accomplishment in Vaughn's career enough? That had to hurt, Annabelle thought.

"Let's not revisit old drama again," his mother said. "You know how I hate airing family business in public. Just tell me you'll be at the dinner. Please."

"I agree with your mother," Annabelle chimed in, seeing the opportunity as a golden one.

"Like that's going to sway me." He folded his arms across his chest and stared stony faced.

She sighed. Whatever Vaughn's reasons for not wanting to attend this dinner, they couldn't be as important as the PR reasons for him to attend. College events would bring visitors who would need a place to stay. Though Vaughn didn't yet realize it, he needed the University President and Board Trustees on his side, referring guests to his lodge.

And since Vaughn was paying Annabelle to do her job, she damn well intended to push harder and explain her reasons to him later. "Your mother's right. I wouldn't understand academia," she said, neglecting to mention her college degree and her MBA. "But even a dinner party would be a nice diversion from this small town with no nightlife." She grasped his arm and squeezing tight. "Can't we go, please?" she asked him in a whiny, girlfriend voice.

His mother already thought them a couple. She saw no reason not to reinforce the notion.

He cleared his throat. "I don't think-"

"Oh, please? I brought a nice dress and I'd love an excuse to wear it."

Estelle remained silent, obviously weighing her options. Her son at the dinner party with his inappropriate girlfriend or no son at all. "Annabelle's right, Brandon. Give the young lady an excuse to get out of her sweats and dress up for a change."

Annabelle shot Vaughn a triumphant grin. Damn she was good at reading people and gauging their reactions. Estelle had played right into her hands.

"Fine. We'll be there," Vaughn said, patting her hand in a way that felt more like a slap than a love tap.

"I can't wait to tell your father." Estelle jiggled her keys and began to walk away.

Annabelle knew she'd pay later, but for now she was darn proud. She'd just performed her first duty as his publicist and garnered him an important public appearance with her by his side.

Now all she had to do was keep things as superficial as the "jock bunny" label implied. Which shouldn't be a problem considering Vaughn's distant attitude. It was her own growing desire she had to keep in check.

VAUGHN WANTED TO KILL Annabelle. Short of that he'd settle for strangling her and that fairy pooch that didn't know how to pee like a man. Instead he'd driven her to his resort and handed her over to Nick for a tour. Meanwhile he'd headed to his on-site office to get some work done.

He needed the time to deal with the fact that she'd just put herself smack in the middle of his family hell. Add to that she was forcing him to show up at one of his parents' ridiculous cocktail parties in the name of good PR for the lodge.

If he'd known he'd have to make that kind of sacrifice, he'd have sold the entire place to Nick and been done with it. Nothing was worth subjecting himself to his father's boring speeches intended to impress the Board of Trustees and, Vaughn was certain, to remind him of all the so-called brain power his son lacked.

Yet as frustrated and angry as he was with Annabelle, he was forced to admit her reasoning made sense. He'd figured the lodge as an upstate getaway for kids during the summer and a cozy lodge resort in the winter. He'd never even thought about local colleges. He should have. But now thanks to Annabelle, he'd tap into a brand-new market. It was brilliant, he thought, as long as he didn't have to admit that to his new publicist.

He ran a hand through his hair and turned to the stack of paperwork in front of him. Thanks to the delays, the plumbing installation was behind schedule, but they'd made up good time in other areas. He hoped they could continue on such a smooth path.

Calmed somewhat, he headed to meet up with Nick and Annabelle. He found them near the lake where they had spread out a blanket beneath a tree. Annabelle and Nick sat side by side, laughing and eating from a picnic basket. The dog hopped up and down on his hind legs begging for attention and when that ploy failed, he ran laps around a nearby bush.

From Vaughn's perspective, the son of a bitch who called himself Vaughn's best friend had decided to romance Annabelle.

Vaughn came up to the oversized blanket they sat on, "I thought we were here to work."

Annabelle glanced up. She hadn't expected to see Vaughn so soon and her adrenaline shot up a notch.

"We did work," Nick said as he shot Vaughn a sidelong glance. "I gave Annabelle the grand tour and we came to find you, but Mara said you weren't to be disturbed."

Annabelle grinned at that. Mara was a woman who spoke her mind about business and a whole lot more. She'd been in Nick's face, flirting, but Nick had deliberately ignored her blatant interest. When he'd asked her to call a local restaurant to deliver a lunch picnic for himself and Annabelle, Mara had nearly flung the telephone at his head.

Oh, those two were interesting, Annabelle thought. As was this picnic, which had taken her by surprise. Then there was Vaughn, who looked ready to grind either their lunch, or her hyper dog jumping at his feet, into dust.

She grabbed Boris away and spoke to Vaughn. "Actually your assistant said you bit her head off and ordered no interruptions unless she wanted to lose her job."

Vaughn ran a hand through his hair. "It's been a long day."

"It's only eleven." Nick chuckled. "I hear you're going to the university fund-raiser after all. Plan on giving that coaching position a shot?"

Vaughn shook his head. "I told you to apply for it. They'd be damn lucky to have you."

"As second choice. I'd rather manage this place like we talked about."

Annabelle listened to the discussion between the two men with interest. Nick was Vaughn's best friend, but despite Joanne's assertions of loyalty, he was obviously runner-up to his pal, both in the lodge and in coaching choice. Could there be jealousy there? Enough to cause Nick to sabotage his own investment? The notion didn't seem likely but she couldn't afford to overlook any possibility.

"I was hoping we could go over some things," Annabelle said, glancing at Vaughn.

He nodded. "I have time now."

She rose and brushed stray grass off her Juicy sweats. With all the dirt and construction, she'd decided to dress down to visit the lodge.

"I'm going to go over the end-of-construction schedule and make sure the inspectors are lined up," Nick said.

"Ask Mara if she confirmed the electrical inspection. I want to get the drywall up," Vaughn reminded him.

"Will do. You two don't kill each other while I'm gone." Nick treated Annabelle to a teasing wink that had Vaughn clenching his jaw.

"We'll try not to," Annabelle replied in her best sugary-sweet voice.

Nick took off for the lodge and Annabelle turned to Vaughn. "Friend or foe?" she asked him about Nick.

"Friend." He spoke without hesitation. His steely-blue gaze met hers, ice in his eyes. "And who the hell are you to even ask?"

Okay so Vaughn's loyalty ran deep. She'd suspected as much. But could she say the same of Nick's? 'I’m the person you're paying to fix things around here."

"I'm paying you to fix the lodge's perception with the public, not question my best friend's loyalty."

She shook her head. Vaughn was a typical layman who didn't understand how PR was connected to every aspect of his life. "You're right," she said, opting to calm him down first. "But I can't do that if I don't know what's going on or who wants to prevent you from opening."

"And you think Nick's sabotaging his own investment?" Vaughn let out a loud laugh of disbelief.

"It's not impossible. And he is jealous."

"Of what? The man's a legend in his own right-"

"Who lost his last job because he wasn't pulling in ratings and who comes second to you in ownership of the lodge as well as a coaching job at the local university. I'm just saying he has reasons to undermine you."

"But he wouldn't. End of discussion." He glanced around at the remnants of their lunch. "So did you enjoy yourself?"

Deciding to test the jealousy theory, she answered him in a low, seductive purr. "As a matter of fact, I did have fun with Nick. He's a great guy." She began to clean the trash and put it inside the basket. "Charming, entertaining…"

She deliberately baited Vaughn even if, despite appearances, her get-together with Nick had been all business, something she intended to tell Mara at the first opportunity. She and Nick had shared a few laughs and he'd explained the workings of the lodge's construction, the foremen in charge, and who supervised each department.

"You had fun," Vaughn repeated.

"Yes. F-U-N. Which part of the word don't you understand?"

He clenched his jaw tighter. "Fun's a word I can handle just fine, honey." He stepped closer and her breath caught in her chest.

He towered over her, a big, strong, sexy man who made her skin flush hot and her body heat with the distinct rush of arousal flowing through her. Being practical flew out the window around this man and Annabelle knew it. Her heart might be warning, look out, but her body screamed go for it. And she remained on edge, wondering how far he'd push the issue.

Vaughn couldn't stand to hear how much fun she'd had with his best friend. "I can show you a lot better time than Nick ever could." Even as he spoke, he recognized that he was being absurd.

Vaughn knew Nick wasn't intending to seduce Annabelle. Intending to make Vaughn crazy? Yes. But romancing her? Not a chance. The man had feelings for Mara even if he was fighting them, not that Vaughn knew why. So his own reaction to Nick and Annabelle was over the top.

"I thought we'd reached the end. As in the end of any discussion about Nick." Her lips twitched in a knowing grin.

Already on edge, her words nudged him even closer to the precipice. "Ending any discussion sounds damn good to me." He stepped forward, and she stepped back, until she came up against the tree.

She glanced up at him. Her eyes were wide, but by no means uncertain. She straightened her shoulders, which had the effect of pushing her breasts against the flimsy tank top. Her nipples hardened beneath his gaze, tight peaks of aching need just begging for his touch, his mouth and he knew damn well he was going to kiss her. She obviously knew it, too, and she wasn't about to stop him.

God, he had to taste her or go insane. His gaze never left hers as he lowered his mouth, touching his lips to hers.

Sizzling heat sparked between them, electricity that traveled directly to his groin. Yet as much as he wanted to satisfy the ache she'd inspired from the first time they'd met, he wanted to kiss her more. To devour her sweet, warm, moist mouth in a completely primitive display of possession.

That's how this woman made him feel. Aggressive and hungry for her. So when a soft moan of acquiescence escaped her throat and her lips opened wide, he indulged his desires. He slid his tongue inside her welcoming mouth, filling, learning and savoring each seductive movement she made, her tongue mating with his, matching him thrust for eager thrust. Her hands cupped first his cheeks, then traveled until her fingertips ran through his hair and tugged on his scalp. Just when he didn't think they could get any closer, she somehow managed.

If it was possible to make love to her with his mouth, that's exactly what Vaughn did. The instantaneous reaction and spontaneous combustion was more than even he'd bargained for.

He tasted her sweetness and he wanted more. Needed more. He thread his fingers through her hair and felt the silken strands sift through his fingertips in a waterfall of sensation. He tugged on one long lock, pulling at the nape of her neck.

With a sensual moan he hadn't expected, she twisted against him, easing her body against his and he responded. His groin hardened, seeking a home between her legs and he ground against her, damning the barrier of clothing separating them.

His hands reached for the waistband of her sweats when a yapping bark brought him out of the haze of desire and allowed reality to resurface.

"Boris," she murmured, almost drowsily.

"I'm not Boris, I'm Vaughn."