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“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.”
Chapter Four (#ulink_dbab1598-5027-57e1-8484-e70c4c90d235)
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 emails. 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.
