To Alaska, With Love: A Touch of Silk

“Don’t hold your breath,” Kay muttered, and locked the door behind Honoria, then collapsed onto the tiled floor and drew her knees to her chest. She rocked back and forth in a vain attempt to comfort herself the way she had as a little girl on Nanny’s night off.

Oh, God, she had to get out of the city. Away from Lloyd’s humiliating behavior, away from her father’s chiding disapproval, away from her mother’s terrible advice.

When had her life become such a mess?

From the outside, strangers might be envious of her. She had a plum job at the most successful women’s magazine in the country. She had lots of money, got invited to all the right parties. She was thin and young and blond.

But others had no idea what it was like to be Kay Freemont. She was miserable to the core and hadn’t a clue how to salvage herself. All her life she’d had this bizarre sensation of being on the inside looking out. While in the midst of prestige, money and privilege, she dreamed of being like other kids, wearing clothes off the rack, cheap sunglasses and colorful, rubber flip-flops.

She’d longed to do simple things like eat cotton candy or ride on a carnival Ferris wheel or lie on her back in the grass and stare up at a canopy of stars.

Instead, she’d been escorted to the planetarium and the museum by bodyguards. She’d been forced to attend boring parties and was kept isolated from ordinary people.

She was sick of it. And she wanted out.

For the longest time she had experienced no passion, no fire, no zest for life. That is, until yesterday when she had met Quinn Scofield.

Something about the man—be it his ruggedly sexy appearance, his independent nature, his engaging smile—stirred dormant emotions deep inside her. For the first time in years she felt excited.

The man was real; he didn’t hide behind a facade. He was honest; he spoke what was on his mind, consequences be damned. He had true friends, not leeches who sucked up to him for his power and money. And he had family who loved him for who he was. In other words, he was everything she was not.

Go to Alaska. Write the feature article. Get away. Spend some time with Quinn. Tell him you’ve broken things off with Lloyd. Find yourself. Find your sexuality. Come home a new woman.

It sounded so good.

Determined, Kay crossed to the telephone in the alcove, picked up the receiver and called Judy to tell her she was taking the assignment. She was going north to Alaska.

Chapter Five (#ulink_d6cb3581-4fba-5dbf-a07b-ca3f6addf578)

KAY FREEMONT WAS coming to Bear Creek. Quinn still couldn’t quite get his head around the notion. To think, in less than an hour, that cool, sleek beauty would be strolling the streets of his hometown.

The notion was enough to give a man the shakes. He wasn’t quite prepared for the reality of her visit, and yet he didn’t feel as if he could wait another second, much less sixty minutes or more.

She had already arrived in Anchorage, and Mack had flown out to retrieve her. Quinn could scarcely sit still. He had reserved the best room for her at Jake’s B&B and arranged for her to borrow his parents’ extra vehicle. Since his mother had slipped on ice and broken her right ankle the week before, she wouldn’t need the old Wagoneer, anyway. He’d stocked his refrigerator with supplies, planning to cook a few meals for her. Quinn was proud of his culinary abilities and couldn’t wait to show off for her.

And he was hoping against hope that his wildest dreams might come true and they could finish what they started in New York City. He had stopped by Leonard Long Bear’s sundries store and picked up a box of condoms, a bottle of massage oil and edible body paints. Bear Creek might be small but because of the cruise ship trade, Long Bear’s had to be prepared for every kind of request. Especially those of a confidential nature.

Unfortunately Quinn’s private business hadn’t remained private for long. By lunchtime at least half a dozen townspeople had kidded him about the naughty thoughts running through his mind.

Fine. Let them talk. He wasn’t ashamed of his sexuality. Particularly since he hadn’t had sex in more than eighteen months.

He hoped he could keep himself under control. He wanted to please Kay as much as he wanted to be pleasured. That kiss they’d shared atop the Empire State Building told him she was as hungry for physical love as he.

He couldn’t wait to taste those lips again, to caress her soft flesh, to run his fingers through her silky hair. For the past week, ever since Judy Nessler had called and told him Kay was on her way, he’d been unable to consider anything else. Although he couldn’t help but wonder if she was still “practically engaged” or if she had broken things off with her boyfriend.

Just thinking about Kay stirred him, and he had to breathe deeply and think of ice hockey in order to calm down.

Finally, finally, he heard the sound of Mack’s bush plane glide to a stop in the inlet. Bundled in his parka, he threw open his front door and hurried down the walkway that was already covered with a light dusting of fresh flakes, even though he’d shoveled it earlier.

The first of March was an awful time to visit Bear Creek. They wouldn’t be able to do much beyond sit by the fire. Kay certainly didn’t seem the type to snowshoe or snowmobile or ice-skate. He couldn’t see her sitting in the bleachers wrapped in thermal blankets at his hockey games. Ah, but he could visualize her curled up in his bed.

By the time he reached the dock, Mack had already helped her from the plane. Quinn took one look at her and his heart flipped.

She smiled in that cool, controlled way of hers. “Hello, Quinn.”

He’d been nervous, not knowing exactly how to proceed, but in that moment instinct took over. He swung her into his arms, lifted her off her feet and hugged her to his chest.

“Welcome to Bear Creek, Kay,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m so glad you decided to come.”

“Thank you.” She stiffened in his arms and he realized that his easy informality made her uncomfortable.

He sat her gently on the ground, wanting to respect her need for distance, and surveyed her with hungry eyes. She looked good, if somewhat out of place, in her virgin-white ski outfit and snowboots. It was probably the only cold-weather gear she owned.

Feeling self-conscious before Quinn’s intense perusal, Kay adjusted the knit cap she wore. She loved the way he’d swung her into his arms but she had a hard time relaxing and enjoying his ebullience.

Mack, the bush pilot, busied himself with tying down the plane and pretending he wasn’t eavesdropping on their conversation. She had enjoyed talking to the down-to-earth man on the flight over, and she’d been unable to stop herself from pumping him for information on Quinn. Now she feared Mack knew exactly how much she liked Quinn. For a woman who’d spent her life hiding her feelings from the world, this was a disconcerting prospect.

“Well,” she said. “Well.”

Her heart was galloping a mile a minute. On the long flight to Alaska she had decided once and for all to use that sexy underwear she had stuffed into her suitcase and seduce this bear of a man. One way or the other, she was bound and determined to prove Lloyd wrong. She was not frigid.

But now that she was here, staring into Quinn’s mesmerizing gray eyes, an odd sensation of anticipation, excitement and fear gripped her. Her brain short-circuited, issuing two simultaneous but opposing commands.

Run for your life! Get out while you can!

Strap your arms around him and never let go!

Oh, God, she wanted him so badly. Maybe too much. But did she have the guts to go through with this? Were her expectations of this chemistry between them unrealistic?

He looked impressive in his fur-lined parka and all-weather boots. A rugged man’s man who needed no fancy gym to keep in shape. Life in the Alaskan wilderness was his personal trainer.

Another twinge of anticipation. This time low in her anatomy. Heavens above, she was scared and thrilled.

You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, she reminded herself. After all, you’re here to write an article. Focus on that. Forget the other for now.

That admonition and a deep breath of frosty winter air calmed her nerves.

Quinn held out his gloved hand to her. Tentatively she accepted it and allowed him to lead her cautiously up the snow-dazzled sidewalk to his rustic log cabin, which was perched on a small hill just above the shoreline.

“Come inside.” He ushered her over the threshold, stopping long enough to stomp the snow off his boots on the welcome mat. Kay followed suit.

“Let me hang up your coat.”

Kay started to pull down the zipper, but her fingers, even through her leather gloves, were so cold that she fumbled.

“Allow me.” He reached for the zipper. Their hands brushed briefly. They both tried to ignore the contact. She glanced at the moose head mounted over the mantel, while he kept his eyes trained to the floor.

Rubbing her palms together, she gazed around the cabin. It was obvious he’d tidied up. The room smelled of pine cleaner and air freshener. The floor was hardwood and covered with a thick, braided rug. Hockey trophies were displayed in a glass case. In one corner sat a massive fireplace, in the other, a big-screen television with satellite hookup. It was definitely a man’s place, painted in dark, masculine colors and decorated with large, sturdy furniture. A brown leather couch, a bold scarlet recliner, a hand-carved rocking chair.