To Alaska, With Love: A Touch of Silk

He pushed his fingers through his hair and let out a long breath, which did nothing to ease the nervousness and self-reproach squeezing his gut. If he wasn’t careful he was going to mess things up royally with Kay.

He had fibbed to her, inadvertently embarrassed her, and that had never been his intent. He had to apologize, get back into her good graces.

Resolutely he knocked on her door.

“Should I go get Meggie?” Jake asked. “Just in case Kay decides to slam-dunk you down the staircase and you need the services of a trained RN?”

“Beat it.” Quinn glowered at his friend.

Chuckling to himself, Jake sauntered off, Lulu on his heels.

And Kay answered the door. “Oh. Are you still here?”

“Can we talk?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “So talk.”

“In private.” He waved a hand. “Eavesdroppers are rampant around here.”

She shook her head and studied him for a long moment. Should she stay mad? He gave her a sad expression. She opened her door wider. “All right.”

Quinn scooted over the threshold.

Kay shut the door behind him, then turned to face him. “Did you have fun embarrassing me in front of all your friends?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Wasn’t like what? I was terrified of that moose!” She punched him lightly on the shoulder. He arched his eyebrows in surprise. She wasn’t given to admitting feelings of weakness, and the fact that she had done so amazed her. But darn it, she had been scared.

“You told me you’d survived two muggings and it was no big deal. Why would a moose scare you?” Quinn looked genuinely puzzled.

“Because it’s the unknown. Why did you let me make a fool of myself?”

“I had no idea you were going to rush into Jake’s and call everyone to arms against Kong. What can I say? I liked it when you grabbed on to me, when you needed me to protect you.”

“Really?” She slanted him a sideways glance. She was flattered and she probably shouldn’t be, but truthfully it had made her feel very feminine to know this brawny man could protect her from wild creatures.

“Yeah. I am sorry—I acted like a jerk, Kay.”

Her name on his tongue tracked an unstoppable awareness through her. She pressed a hand to her stomach to still the fluttering there. A man who could admit when he was wrong? Unbelievable.

“Forgive me?”

“You’re forgiven,” she said.

“Forgiven enough so that you’ll agree to have dinner with me?”

“All right.” She nodded. “Just let me change.”

“I’ll wait for you in the lobby.”

Grinning, Quinn hurried back downstairs. Thank heavens she’d accepted his dinner invitation. He’d gone all out, preparing his famous salmon chowder, putting Coltrane on the CD player, chilling a bottle of champagne. He hoped he wasn’t going overboard or pushing too hard.

His stomach took a dive at the thought. He’d never felt so out of his element with a woman. He was used to cocking a seductive grin at the ladies and having them tumble right into his bed. Why this one caused him to doubt himself, he had no idea.

Maybe because he wanted her so badly.

A few minutes later Kay floated down the staircase. Once again every eye in the room was trained on her lithe, graceful form. Even Lulu thumped her tail approvingly from her place by the fire.

Quinn gulped. He could only stare, bug-eyed. She wore a black velvet long-sleeved dress and black high-heeled fashion boots. Not exactly Alaskan wear, but damn, those boots did fine things for her legs.

In that moment he flashed back to the first time he’d seen her on the plane. He recalled the way her legs looked encased in silk stockings. A rampant forest fire suddenly blazed through him, and he was at a loss for words.

The bodice of her dress clung snugly to her full breasts. The skirt swished seductively when she moved.

As she descended the last step, he stood up to greet her.

“Are you going to be warm enough in that outfit?” he asked.

She leaned in close, the hair on the top of her head tickling his nose. “Shh, don’t tell anyone. I have on long-handled underwear.”

That secret should have killed his libido-fed fantasies about satin and lace covering her silky skin. Instead he found himself even more aroused by the thought of her in cotton flannel. Perspiration beaded his brow.

He was a sick, sick man.

The sky was inky black as they walked to the SUV. This time of year they got only about five hours of daylight. He carried a flashlight and shone it over the parking lot to light their way, while keeping his arm firmly locked around Kay’s waist. He wasn’t about to let anything happen to her.

“I can’t believe how dark it is,” she whispered. “No streetlights. No cars on the road. Quiet as a cemetery.”

He tried to see Bear Creek from her point of view and failed. He considered the darkness comforting, the vastness of the landscape inspiring.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“My place.”

“Not to a restaurant?” Her voice rose on the question, as if she was nervous about his reply.

“The only restaurant open during the winter months is the Paradise Diner next to the B&B. You’ll be sick enough of it by the time you head back to New York.”

“Only one restaurant? You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I’m not. Bear Creek’s winter population is about fifteen hundred.”

“And in the summer?”

“Late May through mid-August the population swells to three, four thousand, double that when the cruise ships are in town.”

“Wow.”