“You look terrible, darling. Your eyes are red and puffy.”
“I’ve been crying.”
“Do you have any cucumbers? We could make a cold compress.”
“Mother, I don’t care if my eyes are swollen. I’m in my own apartment. Don’t worry, none of your friends are going to see me.”
“Oh, you’re in one of those moods.”
“Yes, I do believe I am. Not two hours ago I caught my boyfriend in bed with another woman. Under the circumstances I’m entitled to be a little testy, don’t you think?”
Her mother shifted, let go of Kay’s hands. “You mustn’t allow something like this to come between you and Lloyd.”
Kay stared at her mother openmouthed. “What?” She wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. Was her mother suggesting she overlook Lloyd’s blatant infidelity?
Gently Honoria reached out and pushed Kay’s jaw up. “Lloyd is your father’s right-hand man. He’d be lost without him.”
“What’s that got to do with me?”
Her mother would have frowned, but her recent Botox injection ruled that out. Instead, a disapproving look came into her eyes. “It’s got everything to do with you, darling. One day Freemont Enterprises will belong to you.”
“And I can’t inherit without a man at my side?”
“Not just any man. You must have a husband who comes from the right stock. A man who knows how to navigate your world. A man of good breeding.”
“Oh, from what I witnessed this afternoon, Lloyd’s good at breeding, all right.” Kay crossed her arms and glared. How could her own mother side with her father and Lloyd in this matter?
“Don’t be crude. It’s unbecoming of a Freemont.”
If her mother said one more word about being a good Freemont, Kay was going to scream. She rubbed her pounding temples.
“I’m not saying what Lloyd did was right,” Honoria went on, “but he’s very sorry. He’s already apologized to your father, and he desperately wants to apologize to you, but he’s afraid you won’t speak to him.”
“He’s right. I never want to see him again.”
“You’re making a grave mistake. Lloyd comes from a long and illustrious bloodline.”
“I’m not a racehorse, Mother.”
“You’re going to be seeing him at every social function. You know he’s got opera-season tickets right next to our box. There’s no way to avoid him.”
“So I’ll stop attending social functions and, news flash, I hate opera.”
“You can’t avoid him forever.”
“Then I’ll ignore him.”
“Darling, you’re old enough to understand this.” Her mother patted her knee. “There’re certain things a woman must put up with in a marriage. Any marriage. Be it good, bad or indifferent.”
“And infidelity is one of those things?”
She simply couldn’t believe her mother was saying this to her. Then again, what did she expect? Her mother had chosen to look the other way whenever Kay’s father came home with lipstick on his collar or took late-night telephone calls in his den or went on “business” trips several times a month. Well, not her! She’d be damned if she’d live that way. No amount of money or social status was worth that kind of misery.
Kay got to her feet. “Mother, I think it’s time for you to go.”
Honoria looked startled. “Excuse me?”
“I’m not going to discuss Lloyd Post. I’m not going to marry a man who cheats on me. You might have been willing to settle for a marriage in name only, but not me.”
Her mother looked as if she’d been slapped across the face with a broom. “Kathryn Victoria Freemont, I will not allow you to speak that way to me.”
“Then if you don’t want to hear what I have to say, there’s the door.”
Flabbergasted, her mother picked up her purse. “I’ll talk to you later when you’ve come to your senses.”
“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.
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.
She shrugged out of her ski jacket and stripped off her ski pants. He took the garments from her and hung them on a rack by the door. When she felt confident enough to glance his way again, she apprehended his gaze in a leisurely stroll down her body. He took in her red cashmere sweater, her form-fitting black pants, her fluffy white after-ski boots.
Despite the fact that she was bundled up to the teeth, thermal underwear on from neck to ankles, the way he looked at her made Kay feel like Lady Godiva prancing through the town square in the altogether.
“Nice place,” Kay said, trying her best to keep her tone upbeat and lighthearted, as if his perusal didn’t affect her one bit. But her breathless, whispery voice gave her away.
“Here,” he said eagerly, his voice no steadier than her own. “Stand by the fire, get warm. I’ll make us some hot chocolate.”
Hot chocolate? Had she stepped back in time to a simpler place, a simpler era? It was nice, very nice, but she felt out of place. A stranger in a strange land.
“That’d be great.”
Then an appalling thought occurred to her. Was she supposed to lodge here with him? Not that she didn’t want to stay with him. She just didn’t want it assumed.
“Quinn?” She watched him move around the kitchen, which was separated from the living area by a waist-high counter. She heard the oven door open, saw him bend over and remove a cookie sheet.
The smell of chocolate-chip cookies filled the air. Handsome and he could cook. A deadly combo.
“Uh-huh.” He deposited the cookie sheet on a cooling rack and glanced over at her. His hair had flopped boyishly over his forehead. For no good reason whatsoever her stomach did a backflip.
“Did you…am I…” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Where am I supposed to sleep?”
“At Jake’s B&B a quarter mile up the road in the center of town. Mack’s already hauling your luggage there.”
“Er…that’s good.”
“You didn’t think…I mean…did you want to stay here?” He raised an eyebrow in surprise.
“Oh, no. No. Of course not.” Kay groaned inwardly. This was going horribly. They were both so afraid of making a mistake, they were treading on eggshells.
He returned to the living area, balancing two mugs of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies on a tray.
“I really am glad you changed your mind about coming to Alaska.” He handed her a mug.
She took a sip of hot chocolate and nibbled on a cookie. The room was silent except for logs crackling in the fireplace.
“Cookies are good,” she said as a way to fill the void.
“You can thank the Pillsbury Doughboy. All I did was slice and heat.”
“Still, you sliced them very evenly and heated them to the perfect degree of doneness.”
“Are you making fun of me?” His eyes teased.
Feeling suddenly shy, she glanced away. Oh, she was getting in way over her head here. Liking this guy too much, when they had no future together.
But she was in no position to ask for anything more from him than sex, nor did she want to. For one thing he was an Alaskan and she was a New Yorker. For another, she was on the rebound, still aching from Lloyd’s betrayal. She had a lot of things to sort out before she could ever entertain a relationship that extended beyond the physical. With anyone.
Maybe coming here hadn’t been such a great idea, after all.
Disconcerted, she moved away from Quinn and turned her attention to the photographs artfully arranged on the paneled wall on the opposite side of the room.
There was Quinn playing hockey. In another he was standing on the summit of Mount McKinley grinning like a happy kid. In a third he was kayaking. In a fourth he was guiding a group of tourists down white-water rapids in a rubber raft.
One picture caught her eye. It featured six muscular, bare-chested teenagers laughing and lobbing fistfuls of blueberries at each other. She recognized four of the boys from the magazine advertisement.
Quinn hadn’t changed much. His hair was darker, his shoulders broader, but he still possessed the same insouciant grin and macho stance.
“That was the summer we all worked in Juneau taking tourists down the Mendenthall.” He come up behind her and was standing so near she could almost feel his chin touching the top of her head. “We’d been picking blueberries and things got out of hand. My sister Meggie, the camera buff, sneaked up on us and snapped this photo.”
“Who’s that?” She pointed to a swarthy, dark-haired boy with straight white teeth.
“That’s Jesse, Meggie’s husband. They weren’t married then, of course. In fact, I believe that was the summer Jesse’s father married Caleb’s mother.”
“And this guy?” She pointed to a lanky, string-bean fellow whom Quinn had in a headlock while he smashed berries into his hair.
“That’s Kyle.”
“You two look like the best of friends.”
“We were.”
Something in his voice made Kay turn and look at him. “You’re not friends anymore?”
Quinn shrugged. “I don’t talk to him much. He met some girl who’d come to Alaska for the summer. Kyle fell head over heels. Moved to California for her. Haven’t seen him in twelve years.”
“You act like he betrayed you by falling in love.”
Quinn cracked an uneasy smile. “It wasn’t the falling-in-love part, it was the leaving Alaska. That woman put a ring in his nose, and he let her pull him around by it. Guess that’s why I’m so determined to find a wilderness wife.”
“Because you’re not willing to compromise?”
“Not when it comes to leaving Alaska.” He thrust his chest out as if he was proud of his stubbornness. “In fact, that’s what happened to my last relationship. I asked Heather to marry me, but she refused to move to Bear Creek. I wasn’t about to go to Cleveland where she lived. If a woman wants to love me, she’s got to love Alaska, too. It’s a package deal.” He took a sip of his hot chocolate, then said, “You can quote me in your article.”
Kay raised her eyebrows. With such an obstinate attitude the man might be hard-pressed to find his perfect mate. So why did she find his stubbornness attractive? Maybe it was the clear-cut, simple way he said what was on his mind and if people didn’t like it, well, too bad. “I’ll be sure to note that. Getting your story for the article is the reason I’m here.”