Wild Invitation

Her fingers tingled in awareness, and standing as she was in front of the vanity mirror, she saw her lips part, her eyes widen. The ache between her thighs turned into an erotic pulse.
    Her cell phone beeped.
    She ignored it, shocked by the raw intensity of the hunger surging through her. She’d never before reacted this passionately to a man, until her entire body trembled with the force of it. “Lord have mercy.” Because if this was what simply thinking about him did to her, how in the world was she going to survive being alone with him for an entire day?
    Beep. Beep. Beep.
    She answered the cell just to shut off the sound. “Yes?”

Chapter 3
    “ANGELICA, WHAT’S THE matter? You’re snapping.”
    She took a deep breath. “Nothing, Mom. I just got home.”
    “Well, it’s Friday, so you can relax a little. Drink that chamomile tea I got you.”
    Annie hated chamomile tea. “You know I don’t like it.”
    “It’s good for you.”
    She’d heard that so many times it no longer made any impact. “I think I want to be bad, today.” And it wasn’t herbal tea on her mind. “Very, very bad.”
    “Honestly, Angelica!” Kimberly blew out a frustrated breath. “Forget the tea. I wanted to tell you to dress nicely for dinner tomorrow night.”
    Dinner?
Annie’s stomach sunk to the bottom of her toes as she realized she’d blanked the event from her mind. “Mom, you said you wouldn’t—”
    “He’s a nice young professor from London. Over here on a sabbatical.”
    “When you say young…”
    “He’s only forty-three, dear.”
    Annie was twenty-eight. “Oh.” She rubbed her forehead. “The thing is—”
    “No arguments. Your father and I want you settled. We won’t be around to look after you forever.”
    “I can look after myself.” She felt her hand fist, released it with effort. There was no point in getting angry, not when this was a conversation they’d been having for more years than she could remember. “I’m not a child.”
    “Well you can’t spend the rest of your life alone.” Her mother’stone was harsh, but it held an edge of desperation—Kimberly really was worried by the thought of her daughter living a solitary life. She’d never bothered to wonder if Annie was single by choice. “Professor Markson is a lovely man. You could do a lot worse.”
    What her mother actually meant, Annie thought with a stab of old resentment, was that it wasn’t as if she had any other options. To Kimberly, Annie was a damaged and fragile creature most men would bypass. “Is Caro coming?”
    “Of course not.” Her mother made a sound of annoyance. “We want the professor’s attention on you. Much as I like her, your cousin tends to steal the limelight, even now that she’s married.”
    Annie’s headache intensified—Caro was usually the only point of sanity at these ritual humiliations. “Right.”
    “I’ll expect you at seven for cocktails.”
    “I might be a little late.”
    “Work?”
    “No.” How did she say this? “I, er, arranged an in-depth tour of Yosemite.” Though she didn’t live far from the forest, her parents were closer to San Francisco. Even in a high-speed vehicle, it would take her over an hour to make the trip.
    “Really, Annie. You knew we were having this dinner.”
    “I said I didn’t want to be set up on any more dates.” Especially when she had no intention of marrying or entering into a long-term relationship.
Ever.
And most certainly not when the men came in expecting someone like Caro and got Annie instead. “I’ll try to be there as soon as I can, but I can’t promise anything.”
    Her mother hung up after a few more sharp words. Rubbing her forehead, Annie walked out of the bedroom and to the bathroom, cell phone still in hand. After that call, she definitely needed the soothing properties of a bath liberally laced with mineral salts. Stripping off, she sat on the edge of the tub while it filled, taking the chance to massage some of the stiffness out of her thigh.
    Does it hurt?
    Such a simple question, without judgment or pity. It had undone her just a little. Not only that, but Zach had continued to flirt with her even after discovering that she was less thanperfect. It might not have meant much to him, but it had meant something to her.
    No, Angelica, you can’t do that. Your leg’s too weak.
    Too often, it felt as if her mother had been born into the wrong race. She would’ve made a good Psy, with her analytical mind and need