from the gathered crowd. Lally turned to him beaming, which, he noticed, had no effect on any other part of her face than her mouth. He handed her drink back to her, partly to ease the temptation of knocking it back to dull the pain of being there.
He snuck a glance over her shoulder at Annie. Her eyes had dried and she was engaged in conversation with Dwight about something very entertaining, at least judging from the way she kept laughing. His muscles tightened. What could Dwight be saying that was so funny? He didn’t remember him being such a wit. He strained to hear their conversation, but couldn’t make out a word of it over a nearby damsel bleating about her new vacation villa in Saint Lucia.
Annie’s nose had a light sprinkling of freckles, and a sweet way of wrinkling as she talked. She didn’t throw her chin and limbs around to punctuate her conversation the way the ambitious Lally was currently doing. He managed to nod in pretend interest to her conversational foray about yachting in the Caribbean. But all the while he was sneaking glances at Annie. He was glad her usual attire hid her hourglass figure, with its high, full breasts and slim waist. He could still feel the curve of her shapely backside against his hand.
“What did I do with my drink?” he asked, cutting Lally short.
“I don’t know. Where’s that girl who was passing them out?” She looked behind her. “Oh, there she is. Sinclair needs a drink!”
Sinclair stiffened as Annie looked his way. Her eyebrow lifted slightly. “Of course. Wine, or something stronger?”
He fought the urge to laugh. She could see right through him. “No, no. I’m fine.”
“But you just said—” Lally’s smooth face almost blocked his view of Annie.
“I said, I’m fine. If I need something I’ll get it myself.” His curt response rather startled both women. He attempted to lighten up. “I can’t believe you’re worrying about drinks during this cutthroat game of croquet. Your attention should be fixed entirely on the fate of our balls.”
Dwight guffawed. “Easy for you to say, Sin. Some of us are still holding our balls.” He winked at Annie, and again Sinclair felt a hot flash of unfamiliar emotion.
“Don’t be so crude, Dwight.” Vicki materialized beside him. “You’ll shock Sinclair. He’s a man of old-fashioned tastes and sensibilities.”
She was right, of course. Though he couldn’t understand why his mother had invited Vicki for what was apparently going to be an extended stay. He hadn’t seen her more than in passing for years, and his mom could hardly think Vicki was going to be his next wife. Then again, his mom could get strange ideas.
“My son is a gentleman of the old style.” His mom materialized next to him. Was this some kind of staged sketch where everyone knew their lines except him? “I think we all have a lot to learn from him.”
He snuck another glance at Annie. She was looking down at her croquet mallet like she wished she was anywhere but here. The feeling was mutual. The only safe course of action was to wrap this hellish game up as soon as possible. “My turn, I believe.” Having a strategic nature, he’d been taking mental notes while his opponents tapped their balls ineffectually around the course. He sliced his through the hoop at an angle, taking out two other balls on the way, then drove it hard through the next two hoops without blinking. He would have happily launched it all the way to the home post but that wouldn’t be sporting, so he pretended to miss and set his ball up to knock his opponents’ flying.
“I am glad I’m on your team, Sinclair.” Lally’s un-lined face glowed. “You’re quite ruthless.”
If only he was ruthless enough to tell his mom to leave him in peace and stop trying to enhance his social life. She probably wouldn’t leave him alone until he married again, now she’d got the future of the Drummond dynasty on her mind. On the one hand, he actually liked the idea of having children. They’d be a lot more fun to play croquet with than this crowd. The marriage part, on the other hand, he wasn’t up for at all. Women changed once you put that ring on their finger.
“Hey, Sinclair, do you remember me?” A svelte redhead in a green dress sauntered over, mallet in one hand and drink in the other.
“Of course, Mindy.”
“I hear Diana’s in Greece for the summer.”
Why did people think he’d want to know what his ex-wife was doing? “I imagine that will be good for the Greek economy.”
Mindy laughed. “You’re such a card, Sinclair. And not at all bitter! I love that in a man.”
“I’m glad to see everyone getting along so well.” His mom walked among them, wreathed in smiles and carrying a tray of pastries. “Such a lovely way to spend a summer afternoon.”
“Let me pass those around.” Annie leaped forward and tried to wrest the pastries from his mom’s hand.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” His mom waved her away. “You’re a member of our party now and have a far more important role to play.”
Annie glanced nervously at him. As their eyes met, a jolt of raw and unsettling energy flashed between them. He looked away sharply. Why Annie? Why did he have to share steamy, hungry and unfettered sex in the arms of the one woman he’d previously enjoyed an utterly uncomplicated relationship with?
Obviously the gossips were right and he was simply impossible.
Emotionally exhausted from the effort of not looking at Sinclair, while attempting to make polite small talk and to participate in a game she’d never played before, Annie washed and rinsed the serving platters when all she wanted was to crawl into her bed and sob. Earlier, in an uncharacteristic Cinderella moment, she’d become teary-eyed while plating the caterer’s canapés and watching all those beautiful women pulling into the driveway, dressed to impress and woo him. She’d been discovered mid-sniffle by Katherine. Now she was going to have to stage a pretense of using antihistamine drops and sneezing over flowers for the rest of the summer.
“What’s going on between you and Sinclair?”
She almost had a heart attack when she realized Vicki was standing behind her. Had she been muttering to herself? Did she say something about Sinclair?
“Nothing.”
“Goodness, no need to bite my head off.” Vicki reached for a slightly shriveled cheese puff from a nearby plate that had not yet been cleared. “I can see I’ve hit a nerve.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied.
“Hmm. The color rushing to your cheeks contradicts your words. Don’t tell me you don’t find him attractive, because I wouldn’t believe you. I think he’s gorgeous.” She ate the cheese puff and reached for another. “Handsome and rich. What more could a woman want?”
“Are you asking me a question, or just thinking aloud?” Letting Vicki think she was a mousy pushover didn’t feel like a good idea.
Vicki laughed, tossing back her silky black mane. “Thinking aloud, I suppose. Do you think I’d look good in a wedding picture next to him?” She lifted a slender brow. It was hard to tell if she was joking or not.
The image of her haughty, delicate features next to Sinclair’s sent a
