“Stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“Looking so smug. My breaking up with Lloyd had nothing to do with you.”
“I never said it did.”
“Your expression implied it.”
Why was she being so sensitive? What was the matter with her? For the past week, while she packed and made travel arrangements, she had been unable to think of anything but seeing Quinn again, and now that she was here, she was experiencing all kinds of conflicting emotions.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “That sounded argumentative.”
“Hey, I can handle it. If you need to get something off your chest, go right ahead.”
Well, that was refreshing. He was ready to let her spew out her emotions. Her mother and her father and Lloyd encouraged her not to express her feelings. To keep things bottled up. Good little girls didn’t let their anger show. She was damned tired of being good, and here was Quinn egging her on.
“You sure you’re up for this?” She looked into his eyes, saw nothing but sincere interest and acceptance. She leaned forward and set her half-empty mug back on the tray.
“FYI for the article. I don’t want a submissive yes-woman for a wife. I want a true partner who speaks her mind, shares her thoughts with me even though I might not agree with her. I’m a firm believer that passionate couples fight. As long as they fight fair. Hell, if you don’t fight sometimes, if you agree about everything, where’s the spark? Where’s the passion?”
Kay gulped. Oh, yes. She had always felt the same way. Just once when her father came home late, she had longed for her mother to confront him, throw a tantrum, demand he stop sleeping with other women. But Honoria had never once expressed her anger or voiced her opinion. Well-bred wives did not behave that way. Civilized-society women simply went shopping, spending extravagantly, consoling themselves with expensive but totally meaningless gewgaws.
And when she had tried to tell Lloyd her feelings or express her displeasure over something, he’d always headed her off, shut her down, closed her out, reminding her she was a Freemont with a certain level of dignity to maintain.
“You got something to tell me, Kay? Blast away, I’m listening.”
Quinn gave her his full attention, his eyes on her face, his palms splayed over his thighs. Kay couldn’t help but feel that the future Mrs. Scofield was going to be a very lucky woman—just as long as she was willing to move to Alaska.
“All right. It hurt my feelings when you turned down my offer at the Empire State Building. I don’t go around inviting men into my bed willy-nilly. I just thought you should know that.”
“I never thought you did.”
“You thought I was terrible, wanting to cheat on my boyfriend.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
He shook a finger. “Now don’t go telling me what I thought.”
“So what did you think about me?”
“I figured there must have been trouble in ‘practically engaged’ paradise for there to be so much attraction between us.”
“And?”
“I thought you were a beautiful, sexy woman who was obviously unhappy with her life and not getting what she needed from her primary relationships.”
Boy, he’d hit the nail on the head. Was she that obvious, or was he that observant?
“I think you’re frustrated and disappointed and searching for something special.”
She ducked her head. This didn’t feel very comfortable, having him analyze her and be so accurate.
He reached out and cupped her chin with his palm, raised her face to meet his gaze once more. “I’d like to make you feel special, Kay.” His expression was doing her in, causing her to feel hot and cold at the same time.
“Quinn, you’re looking for a wife, and the last thing I’m in the market for is a husband.”
“Kay, I’m a pretty simple guy. I take life as I find it. I don’t put expectations on people.”
“Then why did you reject me back in New York?”
“Like I told you then, I don’t come between couples. You had to get free from Lloyd first before you could come to me. But you’re here now. Officially unattached. Anything can happen.”
Anything.
The word reverberated in her head. It was exactly what she wanted to hear. Exactly what she feared most. By coming to Alaska she had set herself on a course of sexual exploration. If a man as virile as Quinn couldn’t give her an orgasm, if he couldn’t save her from a life of frustrated sexual fantasies, then could anyone?
* * *
QUINN DROVE KAY over to Jake’s bed-and-breakfast in his parents’ Wagoneer and gave her the keys. He’d started to walk her to the door, not wanting her to slip in the gloom and the snow, but she surprised him by announcing she wanted to walk around and check out the town.
“For the article,” she explained.
They walked to the end of the half-mile-long boardwalk, which ended at the pier where the cruise ships docked in the summer. Most of the shops were closed for the winter, except for Long Bear’s sundries and MacKenzie’s trading post. He took her over to KCRK, his parents’ radio station, and they waved to Liam Kilstrom who was in the control booth. They wandered past the community rec center and the nearby church, where the ladies’ auxiliary was having a quilting bee. They strolled by the Happy Puffin bar, where half the town was hanging out, because it was trivia night. The other half of the town was either probably in Jake’s huge sitting room or at the adjacent restaurant, Paradise Diner.
He was not quite certain what had passed between them at his house. Had she come to Alaska to have an affair with him or not? She wanted him as badly as he wanted her. He saw the desire reflected in her eyes, noticed her passion in the way she held her body, recognized longing in how she got flustered in his presence. But something was holding her back.
It was all he could do to keep from touching her, brushing a wisp of hair from her cheek, taking her hand to guide her over the icy patches on the road. He wanted to caress her and hold her and never let her go.
He had it bad and he knew that wasn’t good. He had to be careful. Kay was not a long-term relationship. He knew that. He didn’t want either of them to get hurt. But man, how he wanted to make love to her.
His gut somersaulted and he drew in a deep, steadying breath, unable to remember when one woman had tied him so inextricably into knots. He was afraid of screwing up, of making a wrong move, of letting this one slip through his fingers. He wanted her with a power that shook his normal confidence.
Kay stopped on the wooden promenade, inhaled deeply of the cold air and gazed at the mountains surrounding the town.
“It’s so incredibly beautiful here,” she murmured. “Breathtaking. Overwhelming. Majestic. Totally wild. Honestly, I had no idea.”
“It’s just home to me.” He grinned.
“I can’t believe how different it is from New York. Bear Creek is quaint and clean and charming. No noise, no pollution, no panhandlers. I’ve got to tell you the truth, all this quiet is a shock to my system. How do you stand it?”
“How do you stand Manhattan?”
She gave a little laugh, and the delicate, feminine sound drilled a corkscrew of awareness straight through his groin. “I suppose it’s what you’re accustomed to. Although I’ve got to admit it can be a tough place to live. I’ve been mugged twice in two years.”
“That’s awful.”