She couldn’t seem to draw her gaze from the ripple of muscle in his forearm where he’d rolled back the sleeves of his mackinaw. It was as if he knew how much she loved sexy forearms and was simply taunting her with a view of his.
She studied his strong profile, raked her gaze down his shoulders to his back before stopping to blatantly admire his delectable fanny so prominently displayed in snug-fitting blue jeans.
Raising a hand to her throat, she inhaled deeply, hauling in an unsteady breath. Quinn turned from the railing, a wide, boyish grin on his face. Kay smiled back.
“Wow. So many people. So many buildings. So many yellow-checkered cabs.”
She nodded.
The wind gusted. Shivering, Kay used a pillar as a windbreak. She crossed her arms over her chest and danced from foot to foot.
“You’re cold,” he said, and she found it touching that he’d noticed. He stripped off his mackinaw.
“I can’t take your jacket. It’s freezing up here.”
“Honey,” he said, and she did not take offense at his easy endearment; rather, she found it kind of charming. “Where I’m from this would be considered a heat wave.”
He stepped closer and settled his mackinaw around her shoulders, wrapping her as tenderly as a mother swaddles her baby.
“Thank you.” Her voice emerged as a breathless whisper, and she realized they were the only people still on the observation deck. The cold had forced everyone else back inside.
“You’re welcome.”
Quinn peered down into her face and damned if little Miss Too-Cool-for-School didn’t look nervous. The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her upper lip. Was her gesture an unconscious invitation to kiss her? God, he hoped so, because he wanted to do that more than anything in the world.
“Uh—” she took a step backward “—perhaps we should go now.”
“Why?” His body was so very aware of hers. “Are you frightened?”
She forced a laugh. “Frightened of what? Heights?”
“Of this.”
Then, taking them both by surprise, he caught her upper arms in his hands, raised her to her toes and kissed her the way he’d been longing to kiss her since the moment he’d caught her in his arms on the airplane.
She yielded. Accepted him with ready acquiescence. Complied by parting her lips and letting him slip his tongue in deep to taste the honeyed, warm recesses of her mouth. Languidly his tongue glided against hers.
Lust, swifter, more vehement than anything he’d ever experienced, exploded inside him. And it was just a damned kiss.
His gut clenched hard. He could only imagine how his hardness sliding into her would feel, her slender arms entwined around his neck, her luscious tush cupped in his large palms.
He was not the kind of guy to sit idle on the sidelines. When he saw something he wanted, he went after it. But even he had never moved so fast or wanted anyone so strongly. He had no more control than a moose in rut. That’s what this woman did to him.
Had he shocked her with his boldness? Had he indeed moved too quickly?
But no, she moaned softly and leaned into him. Quinn swallowed the sound, tilting her head back, threading his fingers through her hair. The softness of those silken strands was in sharp contrast to the hardness building inside him.
Incredible. Simply incredible.
He forgot that she was practically engaged. He forgot that he didn’t steal other men’s women. He forgot that she was out of his league. He forgot everything except how wonderful she felt, how good she tasted.
Kay held her breath, dazed and ashamed. Freemonts did not act like this! They didn’t kiss strangers in public. They did not lose control. They did not succumb to wanton lust.
Good. Good. Good. Good.
She was no longer behaving like a Freemont, and it was liberating beyond description.
But what was she getting herself into?
Quinn, the Alaskan man who smelled of wilderness and tasted of mangoes and key lime pie, was giving her the most possessive kiss of her life. Branding her with his tongue, searing her with his passion.
She’d never experienced anything like it, certainly not with Lloyd or with that guy from college. Her heart did a triple backflip before taking on a frantic, galloping rhythm of thrill and response.
Up was down, down was up. Nothing made sense anymore, but it felt so right.
Was she indeed supposed to begin her journey of self-discovery with this man? Or was she kidding herself? Using his willingness as an excuse for acting out her long-hidden desires?
Splaying a hand on Quinn’s chest, Kay thought to push him away, but instead, she let her hand rest there, feeling his heartbeat and marveling that it pounded as forcefully as her own.
Even through his flannel shirt, she could feel his muscled flesh. In spite of the cold, he felt blisteringly hot and wonderfully solid against her palm. She realized he was coiled as tense as a snake waiting to strike. The comparison alarmed her. Did she really believe he might be dangerous? What was she doing? She didn’t know this man.
But that was rigid Freemont thinking, and more than anything she wanted to break free of the constraints of her old thought patterns. She wanted to stop berating herself, wanted to take some risks, inhale the danger, embrace the challenge, not fear it. She wanted to be fully alive. She wanted to replace fantasies with reality.
And Quinn was serving up huge helpings of reality on a silver platter.
Her knees were weak, her breath faint. How could one simple kiss do so many different things to her? Okay, it wasn’t such a simple kiss. It was more like an implosion. His mouth caused her insides to topple and collapse in on themselves.
He tugged her close against his body, bringing her in startling contact with his rock-hard erection. One of his hands slipped underneath the hem of her leather coat to caress her behind.
Oh, my!
Everything she was feeling was so new, so exciting, so unbelievable, and precisely like one of her fantasies.
Quinn pulled his mouth from hers at last, his breath coming in jerky gasps. Her lips felt swollen and wet, her body both tight and liquid at the same time. He rubbed his cheek against hers, setting her on fire. She quivered and he pressed his lips to her ear.
“Woman,” he whispered hoarsely, “I’m so turned on by you.”
In that moment she experienced a unique and exhilarating power. She, cool, poised Kay Freemont, had made this mountain of a man lose control. She wanted more from him, and that was all there was to it.
What would your parents think? What about Lloyd? the nagging voice that made her do all the right things for all the wrong reasons piped up.
To hell with her parents. To hell with Lloyd. She’d been the dutiful daughter for twenty-seven years, and where had it gotten her?
An orgasmless career woman practically engaged to a man who did not even love her.
Marshaling her courage, Kay took Quinn’s chin in her palm and looked him square in the eye. She’d never done anything like what she was about to do, and therein lay the thrill of it. She knew he would be a kind and gentle lover and maybe, just maybe, he would be the one to turn the key of her womanhood and lead her to new levels of physical joy.
His smoky-gray eyes met hers with a sheen of raw desire, and he did not look away. He didn’t even blink. He stared into her eyes as if he could peer right into the depths of her soul.
“Yes?” he growled. This talent he had for anticipating her thoughts was downright spooky.
“Would you like to go back to my place?” she asked breathlessly.
Quinn couldn’t believe his ears. “What? What did you say?”
She cleared her throat. “My place. You. Me. Now.”
He shook his head, unable to comprehend his good fortune. “Are you sure?”
“No. I’m not sure of anything, except that for once in my well-ordered, well-behaved life I need to do something irresponsible and unpredictable and capricious. So let’s go before I change my mind.”
She grabbed his hand and started pulling him toward the elevators.
“Whoa, wait a minute.” He dug in his heels and she couldn’t budge him. “I don’t want to be your biggest regret.”
“Well, you should have thought of that before you kissed me.”
“A kiss is one thing, Kay. Sex is something else entirely.”
“That’s what I’m counting on.” Her voice was husky, her eyes heavy-lidded.
He shook his head again. What was the matter with him? This was his fantasy. So why was he putting on the brakes? Was he out of his ever-loving mind?
“Please.”
Ah, this was killing him.
“You’re a beautiful woman, and I want to make love to you so badly I can taste it. But I don’t break up couples. And you’re practically engaged.”
“No. In fact, I was thinking I might break up with him.”
“You don’t love the guy?”
“I thought I did once. Or what passed for love. But lately I’ve come to understand that I don’t even know what love is,” she said. “My parents like Lloyd. They think we’re great together. They’re the ones pushing for this marriage.”
“You let your parents tell you who to date?”
She took a deep breath, waved a dismissive hand. “Let’s not talk about them. Let’s not talk at all.” She angled him a coy glance that almost brought him to his knees.
She looked so damned appealing standing there with the wind whipping his mackinaw around her shoulders, her golden hair falling across one cheek, her full lips pursed in fervid anticipation of his acquiescence, her hands cocked on her slender hips.
Much as he wanted to say yes, as much as he knew he’d be kicking himself tonight in his lonely hotel room, Quinn knew he had to turn her down.
He heaved in a heavy lungful of chilled air and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Kay, but I’ve got to say no.”
OH GOD, SHE’D MADE a fool of herself. What had she been thinking? Freemont women did not throw themselves at perfect strangers, no matter how sexually appealing they were.
She tossed her head, averted her gaze.
“Don’t be embarrassed. I’m flattered. Very flattered. You’re one hell of a sexy woman.”
His comment, meant to soothe, only served to fluster her more. Was she that transparent?
“I’m not embarrassed,” she lied, and gave a casual shrug for good measure. “I asked—you weren’t interested. I can handle rejection.”
“Lady, you’re wrong about that. I’m extremely interested. But you’ve got something to settle with that boyfriend of yours, and hopping into the sack with me won’t solve your problems. I’m sorry.” He reached out to take her hand, but she stepped back and shook her head.
Don’t touch me. Please. If you do I’ll crumble into your arms.
She held only the most tenuous control over her libido. These unstoppable, blazing-hot fantasies, combined with her lack of sexual release, had compelled her to do something she normally would never have done in a million years. And she was ashamed of herself. Best to get away from this man ASAP.
Especially since the hot tingling between her legs had not abated one whit since he’d kissed her.
“Look,” she said with her usual crisp efficiency. “You’re right. Maybe we should call it a day.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, and pushed the elevator button. “That’d probably be best.”
Quinn gazed at her with such heated desire, with such greedy longing, Kay almost threw her arms around his neck and begged him to reconsider. But she didn’t, of course. She was at her core a Freemont, after all.
She drew herself up straight. “Yes. Well, it’s been an experience meeting you.”
“Will I see you again? Are you coming to Alaska?”
She shook her head.
“I was afraid of that.” He smiled wistfully. “Another time, another place.”
Her heart hung suspended in her throat, and for some idiotic reason tears hovered behind her eyelids. Kay blinked. The elevator door dinged open.
“Come on,” she said. “I’ll hail you a cab.”
She dropped him off at his hotel in Times Square, but asked the driver to linger a moment at the curb so she could watch him disappear through the revolving glass doors. She was too shaken to return to work. Besides, Judy had given her the rest of the afternoon off, and she’d be irritated to know Kay hadn’t spent it squiring Quinn around town.
And besides, there was another matter that demanded her attention. She couldn’t go forward with her life until she broke up with Lloyd. No more phone calls or e-mails. No more evading. This had to be face-to-face. She had a key to his place; she would go to his apartment and confront him. And if he wasn’t home, she’d pack up the few things she kept stashed there and wait for him to return.
It was a plan. Taking action made her feel better. She gave the cabby Lloyd’s address and leaned back.
Sighing, she wistfully trailed her fingers over the seat where Quinn had been sitting, the vinyl material warm from the heat of his body. She lowered her head, lifted her collar to her nose and breathed deeply of his scent, still clinging to her blouse.
What a masculine man.
Hair as thick and wavy as a Kansas cornfield. Eyes the color of a cold November sky. Warm, inviting lips that promised so much in that short but sizzling kiss they’d shared. Broad shoulders, honed waist, narrow hips.
Kay moaned under her breath, closed her eyes and pictured him with his shirt off.
He’s splitting logs with an ax, and he’s stripped bare to the waist. It’s summer. Midday. Hot for Alaska.
She’s watching him from a shelter of thick trees. The scent of pine fills her nostrils. Behind him in the distance rises snowcapped mountain peaks. He doesn’t see her. She knows he’s had trouble with hunters poaching his land, and he’s not friendly toward secretive visitors spying on him from the trees.
She shouldn’t be here, but she can’t look away. She can’t even move. Her eyes are transfixed on his exquisite, tanned torso.
His muscular biceps bunch as he swings the ax down in one long, smooth stroke.
Whack!
The ax strikes home with a metallic, hypnotic ring that echoes strangely in the still forest. Shivers of excitement run up her spine.
She licks her lips.
He pauses in his work. Rests one arm against the ax handle, swipes at his forehead with a blue bandanna pulled from the back pocket of his tight, denim jeans.
The sun glints seductively off the sweat beading his chest. A sultry heat settles low in her belly, then fans out like thick fingers, growing, clutching, pressing down on her, until every part of her body pulsates with awareness of his overt maleness.
She shifts her position, lifts her head higher, hoping for a better look. She startles a squirrel, which begins to chatter at her.
The woodsman jerks his head sharply in her direction.
“Who’s there?” he calls out.
Heart racing, she jumps to her feet. She can’t be discovered. No telling what he’ll do to her if he finds her encroaching on his land.
“Show yourself,” he demands.
She whirls around—must get away—and darts through the underbrush.
“Come back here, damn you.”
She hears him crashing through the forest as he thunders after her, but she doesn’t look behind her.
Something snags her blouse. The silky material splits wide open, exposing her bra. Her skirt, too, gets caught on something sharp. She hears the rip. Her clothes hang in tatters, flapping about her skin.
Thud, thud, thud.
He is coming.
Faster, run faster.
She tries, but it’s as if her feet are encased in cement. She’s moving in slow motion. She can hear his breathing as he gets closer.
Her hair streaks out behind her, and her legs churn through the thick carpet of pine needles. She zigzags around trees, leaps over downed logs like a doe fleeing a pursuing rutting buck. She’s heading for the clearing and freedom. Her pulse is pounding, thumping, thrashing madly in her ears.
He’s quick for a big man. So quick. And so very close now. She’s not going to make it.
He tackles her. His arms go around her waist. He pulls her atop him as they fall together.
Then she’s on her back and he’s above her, pinning her arms to the earth with his knees. His breathing is raspy, ragged. There is an angry gleam in his smoldering eyes.
“Who are you?” he commands.
But she can’t answer. She’s so afraid. Her whole body trembles. What’s he going to do to her?
“You were trespassing on my land.”
She nods, fear and a strange feeling she’s never had before pooling in her belly.
“You must be punished.”
She squirms, trying to get free, but his knees hold her fast. She can’t move. Can’t get away. She is captured. His prisoner. Will he require her to be his love slave?
She catches her breath.
He grabs what’s left of her blouse and rips it from her body. Her bra follows, exposing tender breasts. Her chest heaves as she exhales.
His hands, work-roughened and callused, are suddenly gentle as he massages her nipples. “I must teach you a lesson,” he whispers. “You must learn never to spy.”
She whimpers.
He leans over her, takes one nipple into his mouth, and she gasps. He plunders her with his tongue.
The pleasure is beyond description. She writhes beneath him wanting more punishment, more sweet torture….
“Lady—” the cabby’s voice jerked her rudely back to reality “—that’ll be seven-fifty.”
She thrust a ten at him. Dazed and stuffy-headed from her interrupted fantasy, she stumbled out of the taxi.
The doorman greeted her with a smile, and Kay took the elevator to the penthouse and let herself into Lloyd’s apartment. Emotionally exhausted, she dropped her purse on the table in the foyer and kicked off her shoes. This wasn’t going to be easy.
That was when she heard the noises coming from the bedroom. She cocked her head, listening.
Giggles. Moans. Oohs. Ahhs. It sounded like someone having sex.
And not just any sex, but wild, uninhibited, swinging-from-the-chandelier monkey sex.
Bed springs squeaked. The headboard banged. Ka-wham, ka-wham, ka-wham.
“Oh, baby, yeah, you hot stud. Give me all you’ve got. That’s it. That’s right.”
Kay froze. Who was in Lloyd’s apartment having sex? His maid and her boyfriend?
She tiptoed down the hallway, her stocking feet gliding over the cool, terrazzo floor. She should be upset or offended on Lloyd’s behalf; instead, she was weirdly curious. It sounded as if they were having a hell of a time.
His bedroom door stood slightly ajar. Kay pressed her body against the opposite wall of the hallway and angled her head around for a peek. She shouldn’t be doing this, she knew, but she wanted to see how other people made love.
Clothing lay strewn across the carpet, a bra—that looked to be nothing short of a D cup—dangled over the shade of a thousand-dollar antique lamp.
“Faster! Harder!” the woman cried.
Kay inched closer, helpless to stop herself from watching. A man, garbed only in black socks, stood with his back to her, his arms supporting the woman bent over in front of him.
She recognized the man at once. No mistaking that bony behind. Shock jolted through her. It took a moment for her to react, but then Kay kicked the door open wide.
Startled, her wannabe-fiancé turned to gape at her, his body still embedded in the flesh of the buxom redhead in his arms.
“Kay!” he cried in a strangled voice. “What on earth are you doing here?”
TWO HOURS LATER Kay sat morosely in her darkened kitchen, staring at the crystal salt and pepper shakers that sandwiched a crystal napkin holder and slowly shredding a lace paper doily.
She felt empty inside. Empty, hollow and cold. She hugged herself tightly and clenched her jaw to stay the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks if she dared let them.
It wasn’t so much finding Lloyd with another woman that bothered her. No, what really upset Kay was the cruel words he’d hurled at her as he’d wriggled into his pants.
“I’m glad you caught me, Kay. I’ve hated sneaking around behind your back. But you gave me no choice. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is being with a frigid woman?”
Frigid.
The word reverberated in her head. Was she really frigid? She’d suspected for many years she might be, but to have someone say it to her face caused her more pain than she could have imagined.
He blamed his cheating on her.
A sick sensation flipped over in Kay’s stomach as she recalled the blissful expression on the red-haired woman’s face. She had obviously been having a very good time with Lloyd. If he could satisfy that woman, then apparently his lousy technique wasn’t the reason for Kay’s lack of sexual arousal. It was true. She was frigid.
She dropped her head into her hands and softly began to cry. In that moment she felt so alone. All those years of struggling to be the perfect daughter, the perfect Freemont, had extracted an extravagant toll. Decades of watching her p’s and q’s, worrying about what other people thought and putting on a polished facade had resulted in a repressed personality.
In truth she didn’t know who she was or what she wanted. If only she could activate her sexuality. If she could come alive in that area of her life, might it not be the gateway to freedom?
But how did she go about liberating her libido?
Then she thought of Quinn. With his heated kissing and his bedroom eyes, he’d obviously desired her. If anyone ever made her feel like a woman, it was him.
And she’d let him get away.
She stroked her lips with fingertips gone salty from her tears and wistfully recalled their kiss and the power of their connection. A shiver passed through her. Could Quinn light the fire in her that she feared did not even exist?
You’re idealizing him, Kay. He’s nothing but wish fulfillment. The inner, sensible voice that had guided her actions throughout her life spoke sternly.
Right.
Sighing, she raised her head and straightened her shoulders. Freemonts did not pine for the impossible.
At that moment her door buzzer went off.
Great. Just what she needed. Company. Kay trudged to the door and pressed the intercom. “Yes?”
“Dearest, it’s Mommy. I’m coming up.”
Oh, no! “Mother, I’m pretty busy.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to pretend with me. Lloyd has been to see your father. I know what happened between you two.”
“Then you know I never want to see his two-timing ass again.”
“Is that any way for a Freemont to talk?” her mother chided.
More Freemont guilt. “Come on up.” She sighed again.
A few minutes later Honoria Freemont rushed into Kay’s apartment with her hair freshly coiffed, smelling of expensive French perfume and wearing an impeccably tailored suit. Immediately she took both of Kay’s hands in hers and led her to the couch.