Sexy, Single And Searching: Sexy, Single And Searching / Eager, Eligible And Alaskan

“You could say that,” Kay demurred. “Do you have any idea who she is?”

“No.” Mack snorted in exasperation.

“She’s the winner of the Metropolitan magazine contest.”

“No kidding.”

Hmm, that meant she probably was interested in snagging a husband. The plot thickened. Mack looked at her with new possibilities but Camryn still seemed miffed with him for some reason. He wanted to make amends and quick.

Kay locked arms with Camryn and whisked her away before Mack could protest. “I’ll bring your date back in a minute.”

“I’m not Mack’s date,” Cammie Jo murmured to Kay once they were out of the men’s earshot.

“He thinks you are.” Kay guided her up a staircase to the second floor and pushed open the door to the powder room. She stopped in front of the mirror, pulled a comb from her purse and ran it through her sleek blond hair.

“No he doesn’t. He doesn’t even recognize that I’m the same person he flew in from Anchorage this afternoon. He thinks I’m some gorgeous creature.”

Kay gave her an appraising glance. “Well, sweetie, in Mack’s defense, you do look like an entirely different woman.”

“It’s irritating. When I was Cammie Jo he didn’t give me the time of day. But as Camryn Josephine, he can’t be solicitous enough.” Cammie Jo folded her arms across her chest, felt the smooth sleekness of the totem against her forearm.

“That’s men for you.”

“And that’s precisely why I’m not interested in them. It doesn’t matter that I have an IQ of 145. All that matters is that I look good in a dress.” Camryn snorted.

“Don’t judge them too harshly,” Kay said. “You’ve got to remember in Bear Creek the men outnumber the women ten to one. That’s why the bachelors advertised for wives. And the women that do live here are practical, rural women who don’t have much use for makeup and designer clothes. This publicity-generated infusion of femininity has gone straight to their heads.” Kay giggled conspiratorially. “Quinn’s ape crazy over my collection of provocative stockings.”

“Promise me you won’t tell Mack what I’m really like.”

“What do you mean?” Kay applied a fresh layer of lipstick to her full lips, then passed the tube to Cammie Jo.

Cammie Jo swept her hand at her sexy outfit. “I’m not really beautiful and sophisticated and self-confident.”

“Don’t be silly, of course you are. You just needed a little makeover.”

Kay didn’t understand. This transformation wasn’t the result of a little blush, a push-up bra and a new color of contact lens. Only the totem could have wrought such a change, and she couldn’t explain that to her new friend. For one, she didn’t want to sound like a nutcase and for two, she certainly didn’t want to chance defusing the magic by talking about it.

“Please, just don’t tell Mack I’m Cammie Jo. Okay?”

“Sure, honey. Whatever you want.” Kay squeezed her hand.

“Thanks.”

“Now let’s get back out there. We’ve kept the men waiting long enough.”

They returned to find the party gearing up. More guests had filtered in. The band was playing some current, chart-topping country-and-western tune. Mack was standing near the front door, his eyes on her. He was resplendent in that tuxedo. Every little girl’s dream date. In fact, he looked as if he could grace the top of a wedding cake.

Cammie Jo hadn’t taken five steps toward him when she found herself surrounded by men. For a second, panic set in. Then she took a deep breath and reminded herself there was no reason to be afraid. She had the treasured wish totem, which she had decided looked less suggestive in plain view than tucked into her dress. She tugged on the totem and told herself not to get embarrassed. If they wanted to gawk, by George, let ’em gawk.

That ought to give Mack something to think about.

4

MACK STOOD BY the punch bowl glowering at Jake, who’d scooped Camryn out from under him. He glared while his best friend waltzed his dream woman around the dance floor.

No fair! He had seen her first. Had almost ran her down in fact, because he’d been studying her so hard.

He admired Camryn’s graceful movements. Enjoyed the way her dress swirled and flared around her legs. A bullet of jealousy shot through him when she cocked her head upward and smiled at something Jake said. He shouldn’t be jealous. He wasn’t much of a dancer himself. Let her have fun with someone who didn’t possess two left feet.

So why the burning sensation in his gut? Camryn’s hair fanned out, swirled behind her as she danced. Mack found himself enchanted by that twirling mane and he wasn’t the only one. He spied many covetous glances angling her way from the numerous single men lined against the wall.

She might be pretty but it really wasn’t enough. Not anymore. Secretly, he was terrified of making a grave mistake, of picking a woman too beautiful and delicate to survive in his homeland. That’s why he had the “wife” list.

Mack patted his breast pocket, then remembered he was wearing a tuxedo and had left his list at home. No matter. He knew the requirements by heart. His ideal woman would be brave, feisty, loyal, trustworthy, adventuresome, honest and intelligent. Just like his grandmother.

When Jake had seen his list, he’d retorted that what Mack wanted was a Boy Scout, not a wife. Mack had pondered on Jake’s comment for a few days, then added: a sense of humor, likes to snuggle and doesn’t mind being spoiled. He hadn’t shown that part of the list to Jake. A man could only take so much razzing from his friends.

He didn’t know if Camryn possessed all the qualities he needed or not. They’d shared a connection, a moment. Only getting to know her better would tell if their initial attraction was anything more than superficial sexual awareness. He didn’t have time to waste on meaningless affairs. Been there, done that.

He’d just turned thirty-one and while he’d never heard of men having biological clocks, damned if he didn’t hear this strange ticking in the back of his head.

He didn’t want to be an older single parent like his father. Pop had been forty-two when Mack was born and in a wheelchair with rheumatoid arthritis by the time Mack was thirteen. He wanted to have his kids while he was still young enough to pitch a baseball and hike a mountain and shoot a hockey puck. Mack had learned that experiencing life to the fullest was the only way to live. Because you just never knew what the future held.

Well, buddy, you won’t find out anything about Camryn standing here on the sidelines. Get out and get into the game.

The band switched tunes, going from a jazzy rock beat to a slow, dreamy waltz at the same moment Mack tapped his buddy on the shoulder.

“Do you mind?” he said to Jake, then to Camryn, “May I have this dance?”

Jake shrugged, nodded. Camryn smiled and held out her arms to him.

That’s what he liked most about her, the way she met his gaze head-on. Clear and straight, with nothing to hide. She didn’t act coy, nor did she present an overly aggressive demeanor like that grabby UNLV sorority sister. She was honest, open, flexible.

On the surface she seemed to be everything he’d been dreaming of when he placed that advertisement with his friends.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hello.” Simple, direct, no game-playing.

Camryn pushed a tendril of hair from her face and tried her best not to drop her gaze. Mack looked unbelievably handsome in a tux.

Don’t be scared, she coached herself. You’ve got the treasured wish totem around your neck and you’re having the adventure of a lifetime.

She was no longer meek little Cammie Jo, but fearless Camryn Josephine, up for whatever life might throw her way. And she was loving her new self.

Mack took her in his arms. Oh yes! He was all brawn and muscle and sinewy male.

Being held like this was an eye-popping experience for her, startling and novel. His body heat, so incredibly thermal, slipped into her skin roasting her from the inside out. His smell clobbered her senses, left her addled with yearning. Oh, she was falling too fast, stumbling too quickly out of her element and her normal comfort zone.