The lie came easily off Annie's lips. Normally, he'd expect seeing someone make up such falsehoods so easily would be a turn-off. Instead, he wanted to commend her for being so quick on her feet. The gleam of humor in her eyes over their shared secret amused him to no end.

She was good at this subterfuge thing. One of James Bond's babes couldn't have been any more creative.

Sean smothered a sigh, thinking of the Bond Bond thing. That had come up almost as soon as he'd arrived. And again at least once an hour since. thing. That had come up almost as soon as he'd arrived. And again at least once an hour since.

Why, oh why, could Americans not hear the difference between an Irish accent and an English one?

"Being friends with someone you date is a very smart idea," Mrs. Davis said, nodding in approval. "Sooner or later the blind excitement wears off and it's nice to be with someone you actually like like when it does." when it does."

The paper shook slightly, and Mr. Davis's voice emerged from behind it. "Blind excitement...riiiight."

Judging by his long, deep sighs whenever the subject of tonight's anniversary party came up, Mr. Davis wasn't quite the romantic his wife was. He seemed the type to keep his head down and his mouth closed, obviously used to doing just that after thirty-five years of marriage to such a powerful woman.

Right now, he also seemed to be completely distracted and separate from the conversation going on around him. But Sean had no illusions that the man was paying very careful attention to his daughter and the new guy.

"Sean was just so nice and charming, we hit it off from the minute we met," Annie said, holding her mother's gaze with complete innocence.

She wasn't lying, not at all. They had had hit it off right away. Only, it had happened five days ago. Not eight months ago. hit it off right away. Only, it had happened five days ago. Not eight months ago.

Having lived in his own veil of half-truths, and knowing the benefits of discretion, he didn't hold it against her. Just because Sean liked her family so far, that didn't mean he hadn't seen exactly exactly what she'd been warning him about from the minute her oldest brother had rapped him on the back of the head. what she'd been warning him about from the minute her oldest brother had rapped him on the back of the head.

They were close-knit, incredibly protective, and while well-mannered, there had been more than one under-the-breath comment about Sean "stealing" their little girl away. As if he had anything to do with her having left home, what was it, five five years ago? years ago?

The nonstop commentary about friends, family and neighbors and the not-very-subtle a.s.sumption that Annie would be back when she got over her "little adventure" was grating on him after two hours. He simply couldn't imagine what it was like for her each and every time she spoke to any of them.

No, he didn't blame her for her tiny white lies. If his presence here could get them to at least address the possibility that Annie might not not be moving home, next year, or the following one at the very latest, then he was very glad to do it. be moving home, next year, or the following one at the very latest, then he was very glad to do it.

"What was she dressed as?" Randy asked. Annie's youngest brother was a typical gangly twenty-year-old, all arms, legs and mouth, with a s.h.a.ggy head full of blond hair. He yucked it up asking, "Lemme guess-Little Orphan Annie? That's what I used to call her."

Mrs. Davis was walking by the table to refill a platter of waffles and she paused midstride to thwack her youngest son on the head with the back of her hand. "And what would that make your father and me if your sister was an orphan?" She then made the sign of the cross and mumbled what sounded like a prayer before proceeding to the stove.

Sean made no effort to hide his smile.

"Actually, she looked wonderful," he told her brother, wondering if Annie recognized the mischief in his tone. "She was a bunny."

Randy snorted. "Yeah, right, Annie a Playboy Playboy bunny?" bunny?"

Seeing her mother swing around in dismay, and Mr. Davis lower the newspaper and frown, Sean quickly shook his head. "Heavens, no. Annie wore a big, pink, fuzzy thing with floppy ears and painted on whiskers." He winked at her. "She was quite adorable."

Her glare promised retribution. Her words delivered it. "Oh, yes, and Sean was dressed up as Fred Flint-stone. He looked very macho as a caveman. Can't you just see the resemblance?"

Caveman? Heaven forbid. But, fair was fair. He couldn't really expect her to describe him as a s.e.xy Zorro or wicked pirate when he'd painted such a vivid picture of her bouncing about as the Easter Bunny.

"That does sound macho," Mrs. Davis said with a grin as she returned to the table, carrying a fresh pot of coffee. "Are you sure you won't have some, Sean?"

"Sean drinks tea, Mom."

Good memory.

"But Annie drinks enough coffee for both of us," he said, laughing and giving her an intimate look. "Takes a lot to get her going in the morning."

Her eyes widened into twin saucers. He immediately backpedaled.

"If I call her before she's had her second cup of the day, she sounds as though she's sleepwalking."

Good save, she mouthed when her mother turned to reach for the sugar bowl. she mouthed when her mother turned to reach for the sugar bowl.

When she turned back around, sprinkling a spoonful of sugar into her cup, Mrs. Davis casually murmured, "You know, Annie, I'd been meaning to ask you." Her barely interested tone didn't fool Sean one bit. He prepared himself for whatever was coming, already realizing Mrs. Davis was far more intuitive than any of the male members of the family. "I was certain you'd said Sean's name was something else when you first mentioned him to me on the phone."

Beside him, Annie stiffened in her chair. Sean reached over and dropped a hand on her bare leg, the intimate touch hidden from view by the dish-laden table. He had had this one. this one.

"We have cute nicknames for each other," he said. "Maybe that's what you remember."

Her mother didn't look convinced.

"What's Annie's?" Randy asked.

Her hand dropped to cover the one he had on her leg, squeezing him threateningly. Her sudden glare promised extreme retribution. He sensed that if he told her family he called her Honey Bunny or Flopsy Ears-which, as nauseating as they sounded, made sense given the way they'd supposedly supposedly met-she'd crown him with the platter of congealing fried ham. met-she'd crown him with the platter of congealing fried ham.

And if he called her his little cottontail, her father might.

"I call her ceadsearc, ceadsearc," he murmured. Wanting to rea.s.sure her that everything was fine, he couldn't resist lifting her hand and brushing his lips across her fingers. "It means sweetheart."

The father retreated behind the newspaper again. The twenty-year-old snickered with typical youthful disdain of anything the slightest bit mushy.

But the mother? She stared at their joined hands, obviously noted the warm, grateful look in Annie's eye-and the tender one Sean couldn't contain, and said, "How lovely."

And Sean knew he'd won over the most important person in the house.

He lowered his hand to the surface of the table, keeping his fingers wound with Annie's. "That she is."

Mrs. Davis smiled at him, slowly nodded, then looked away. Before she did so, he'd swear he saw moisture in her eyes. Though, he had to be mistaken. Didn't mothers want their daughters to find men who truly cared about them?

Maybe. But in this case, with a mother who wanted her daughter to give up her dreams and come home...maybe not. But in this case, with a mother who wanted her daughter to give up her dreams and come home...maybe not.

"So, sad-sac," Randy asked, mangling the endearment, "what's yours for him?"

Annie wrinkled her nose at the younger man. "It's Noneya. As in none-ya business. Now go away and do some push-ups or something before you overtax your brain with all this adult conversation."

"Can't. Gotta get ready for the game."

Beside him, he felt Annie stiffen, even before she said a word. His guard immediately went up.

"No."

"Oh, yeah, it's Sat.u.r.day."

She leaned around him to glare at her brother. "We have enough to do getting ready for the party tonight."

"That's not necessary, dear." Mrs. Davis helped herself to another waffle, then put one on Mr. Davis's plate. He didn't even put the paper down, merely reached blindly for some syrup, doused it liberally, then cut a piece off with the side of his fork. "Everything's all ready. You and Sean can just enjoy yourselves."

"We won't enjoy ourselves if those three idiots give Sean a concussion."

"Uh," he asked, "what exactly is it we're talking about here?"

"The game," Randy replied. He reached over, scooped a handful of bacon, and rose from the table. "Every Sat.u.r.day at three, after the milking's done and the deliveries are made, whoever's around meets on the back field for some football. We do it all summer." He popped food into his mouth and spoke around it. "It's fun."

"It's violent," Annie snapped. "How many Sat.u.r.day trips to the hospital does this family have to make before that stupid tradition stops?"

Her father muttered, "I'm not paying any more dental bills, boy. If you lose any more of your teeth, you'll be gumming your food long before you're ninety."

Good G.o.d, losing teeth in a friendly afternoon game at the house? No wonder Annie's older brothers had left. They'd gone home to suit up in their armor and to put on helmets to bash him in the head with, rather than just the backs of their hands.

"Everybody expects you to play," Randy said, ignoring his sister and his father. "You know how, right? I mean, I know they don't play it in England. There, they call soccer football, right? Which is stupid, why don't they just call it soccer since football is already football?"

His head hurting a little from the young man's confused logic, he started with the basics. "I'm Irish," he explained. Again. Again. "And I can only speculate that it made sense to someone to call a game involving your feet and a ball "And I can only speculate that it made sense to someone to call a game involving your feet and a ball football. football. As opposed to the game As opposed to the game you you play, which mostly involves pa.s.sing and throwing and play, which mostly involves pa.s.sing and throwing and carrying carrying the ball, and which has all that protective padding and the constant time-outs." the ball, and which has all that protective padding and the constant time-outs."

Annie snorted, and from behind the paper, he'd swear he heard a chuckle.

Randy didn't even appear to notice that his logic was being questioned. "But you know how to play? Or do you just play the sissy English version?"

Sean shouldn't have let a twenty-year-old pup get a rise out of him. But his compet.i.tive spirit was rearing up. "Ever heard of rugby?"

Randy's eyes narrowed. "Is that the one where the guys all bend over head to b.u.t.t and hug each other to decide who gets the ball?"

Sean barked a laugh, remembering the many injuries, bruises and breaks he'd suffered during his university days. "Yes, that's the one."

"You don't have to do this," Annie murmured.

"It'll be fun," he said. Seeing a flash of worry on her face, he quickly added, "I'll be fine."

Her response completely surprised him. Leaning close, she whispered, "It's not you I'm worried about. You told me you've knocked men unconscious on the field, remember? If you give one of my brothers a concussion, you might be sleeping in the barn tonight."

Neither of them realized they'd been overheard. Not until another of those low, dry chuckles emerged from behind the newspaper. And her father, who must not think too highly of the Sat.u.r.day afternoon tradition spoke.

"I'll put twenty bucks on the Irishman."

9.

"YOUR PARENTS SEEMED very happy tonight." very happy tonight."

Annie, who was curled sideways in the pa.s.senger seat of Sean's rental car, watching the way the warm summer breeze lifted his hair back as they drove through the night, nodded and smiled. "Yes, they did. I think they were surprised to see how many people care about them and wanted to share their big day."

It was after eleven and the two of them had just left the Elks Lodge, which was on the outskirts of Green Hills, about five miles from the farm. The party, which started at six, had finally wound down until only Davis family members, both close and extended, remained. Seeing Annie's yawn-after the long day and the drive to town, as well as Sean's, after the long day, the drive and and the testosterone-laden football game-her mother had insisted that they head back to the house early. the testosterone-laden football game-her mother had insisted that they head back to the house early.

Good thing. Randy had nearly lost his mind when he'd seen Sean's car. He'd begged to ride with them, and when Anne had told him the Ferrari was only a two-seater, Randy had insisted that his sister wouldn't mind riding with someone else to the party. She sensed the return trip wouldn't have been any different.

And there was no way way she was riding with somebody else. Not when she'd been unable to take her hungry eyes off the man sitting beside her throughout the entire evening. she was riding with somebody else. Not when she'd been unable to take her hungry eyes off the man sitting beside her throughout the entire evening.

Just like almost every other woman there.

"Thanks for not getting upset about my cousin Elizabeth fawning all over you," she said. "At fourteen, she hasn't quite learned the art of keeping her feelings to herself."

Sean glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "I'd say that runs in the family."

Still too lazily comfortable and happy just watching him, she took no offense. Because it was true. She was utterly incapable of holding back a thing, especially when it came to the things she wanted.

Right now, she had no doubt about what she most wanted. All she had to do was study the strong lines of his face, the perfectly curved mouth, the strength of his jaw, and her body told her with hard, pulsing insistence what she wanted. And when she dropped her gaze to the broad shoulders, the lean hips and the long legs, the moisture between her thighs told her even more.

"Thank you you for not getting mad about your brother's black eye." for not getting mad about your brother's black eye."

She snickered. "I'd have been more mad if Jed had done any damage to you in that stupid game. And hearing Dad's laughter-seeing the look on his face when you wiped the field with all of them-was almost enough to make this entire trip worthwhile. Even the five thousand dollars."

h.e.l.l, the five thousand dollars had been more than made up for already. Last night...in the ball pit. And on her desk.

"Well, I hope we can find one or two more pleasant things to do to make this trip worthwhile," he said, a slight smile on those full, kissable lips.

Oh, she had no doubt they could if they had the opportunity. But they wouldn't be able to explore those options back at the house, which would be bursting with other Davises in a very short time.

Arriving home first, they'd have a little little privacy at the house, but not enough to risk doing the kinds of things Annie wanted to do. And while she suspected her mother had sent them off early specifically because she knew the two of them were having a hard time keeping their hands off each other in public, she also knew the older woman wouldn't give them too long. privacy at the house, but not enough to risk doing the kinds of things Annie wanted to do. And while she suspected her mother had sent them off early specifically because she knew the two of them were having a hard time keeping their hands off each other in public, she also knew the older woman wouldn't give them too long.

So go somewhere else.

The idea had merit. They could take a detour for some intimate, alone time. They were a good half-hour ahead of everyone else, and no one would be looking for them right away.

A half-hour wasn't nearly enough. But if it was all she could get tonight, d.a.m.n it, she'd take it.

"Turn right up ahead," she said, suddenly remembering some of the party spots she and her high-school friends had discovered along the back roads.

"Are you sure? That seems too soon."

It wasn't soon enough. Not nearly. For the past five hours, she'd been dying to shove all her cousins and friends away from this man and wrap herself around him like an octopus. So getting him somewhere private where she could jump on him couldn't possibly possibly come soon enough. come soon enough.

"I'm sure," she whispered.

Sean glanced at her, obviously hearing the intimate tone. He smiled slowly, then turned his attention back toward the road. He followed her directions, and, as she expected, within a few minutes they found themselves leaving the blacktop for a gravel-and-dirt lane. One that, if she recalled correctly, went absolutely nowhere.

"Hey, navigator, you paying attention over there?"

Reaching over, she slid her fingers into his hair, curling a few strands around them. "Keep going."

He nodded, licking his lips, his knowing expression easily visible in the reflection of the dashboard lights. The way he shifted in his seat, stretching his legs, tugging his trousers, told her his mind had gone in the same direction as hers. They were driving toward carnal pleasures and they both knew it.