A Touch of Silk (11 page)

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah.” Meggie made a face. “Means Mom will need me to stay through the summer, and I hate being away from home that long.”

Kay nodded. “Your job?”

“Yeah, the job.” Meggie shrugged nonchalantly. But Kay could tell from the expression on her face that there was something else on Meggie’s mind.

Suddenly Meggie brightened. “Looks like you and Quinn are really hitting it off.”

“We like each other.”

“He’s a great guy, and I really like you, Kay. But as one city girl to another, I have to warn you about something if you think you might be getting serious about my brother.”

“Oh, don’t worry. We’re not serious. I know Quinn’s looking for a wife, and I’m a New Yorker through and through. Couldn’t live anywhere else,” Kay denied, and waved a hand.

“That’s good.” Meggie nodded. “Because you can take an Alaskan man out of Alaska, but you can’t take Alaska out of the man.”

“Is that how it is with your husband, Jesse?” Kay asked, struggling to tamp down the odd strangeness pressing against her heart. Meggie’s words were not a new revelation, but what she’d said underscored what Kay knew. The gulf between Quinn and her was simply too wide to breach.

“Jesse?” Meggie’s eyes darkened with an emotion Kay couldn’t pinpoint. An emotion akin to pain. Was her marriage in trouble? “Oh, no, Jesse’s not a native Alaskan. He moved here as a teenager when his father married Caleb’s mother. Jesse is pure big city. Which I suppose is what attracted me to him. I wanted so much to get out of Bear Creek, and Jesse was always talking about the places where he was going to go and the things he was going to do. He really turned my seventeen-year-old head.”

“And everything worked out for you. You got what you wanted.”

“Yeah,” Meggie said, but it sounded as if she was still trying to convince herself of that fact. She rose to her feet. “I better get back inside. Been nice dishing the dirt with you, girlfriend.”

Kay wiggled her fingers, watched Meggie walk away and realized then they had something else in common besides their love of cities. Neither of them liked to trot their feelings out for others to examine, and deep down inside, they were both very lonely.

QUINN GLANCED about the room and waved a hand. “Everyone go on dancing.”

“Can’t, the two beautiful single ladies are gone,” someone said.

“You’re out of your league with that New Yorker, boy,” old Gus cackled. “She’s too high-class for you. Best to stick with your own kind.”

Jake came over and clapped Quinn on the back. “Don’t pay attention to Gus. You know how he likes to stir up trouble.”

Irritated, Quinn stalked to the kitchen and paced. He wanted to give Kay some space, but he felt antsy. After five minutes of waiting for her to return, he couldn’t stand it anymore and went out to find her.

The darkness was thick. The overcast sky obscured any chance of seeing the aurora tonight. A muted light from the barn was the only illumination.

Winding his way past the vehicles parked in an uneven grid across the driveway, he cupped his hands around his mouth and called, “Kay.”

Silence.

What was the matter? he fretted. What had he done wrong?

“Kay,” he called again.

Still no reply.

He was aware of a strange pounding in his chest, a burgeoning fear he couldn’t seem to control. What if something had happened to her? What if she’d stepped into a hole and twisted her ankle, or worse?

His treacherous mind conjured up a hundred different horrific scenarios that had almost a zero percent chance of actually happening. But when it came to winter in Alaska, all bets were off, and Kay was a babe in the woods.

Of course, she probably went into the barn to get out of the wind, he told himself. He increased his stride, reached the barn door in a few paces and flung it open. Startled horses and cows raised their heads from their stalls to gaze at him.

He sprinted across the cement floor, examining each nook and cranny. No Kay.

By the time he burst outside again, his chest heaving, his body drenched in sweat, real fear had latched hold of his gut and wouldn’t let go.

“Kay!” he shouted, panic rising.

“I’m right here, Quinn,” she replied in a tone as untroubled as a frozen lake.

He skidded to a halt and jerked his head in the direction of her voice.

She was sitting in his truck, and she’d rolled the window down to speak to him. He trotted over.

“There you are.” He smiled, goofy with relief.

He rounded the hood of the truck. She rolled up the passenger-side window. He climbed in beside her and started the engine. It responded sluggishly at first, then took hold. He switched on the heater, then turned in his seat to look at her.

“What happened back there?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Liar.” He reached out, ensnared one of her gloved hands in his. “We were having a good time, then you changed just like that.” He snapped his fingers.

“Really, Quinn, you’re making a much bigger deal of this than it is.” Her breath fogged the darkness between them.

“Did I do something to offend you?”

“It wasn’t you.” She stared out the windshield.

“What, then?”

She shrugged and in that slight gesture, he felt her pain. She was hurting and he didn’t know why.

“Talk to me. Please.”

“I overheard someone make a valid observation. I guess that’s why it hit a little too close to home.”

“What did they say?” Quinn asked a second time through clenched teeth.

Kay stared down at their entwined hands. “You heard old Gus. He said I was nothing to you but a playmate until the real thing came along.”

Quinn’s breath caught. “And you believe that?”

“Yes. You are looking for a wife, and I’m certainly not what you had in mind when you concocted that ad.”

“Look at me,” he commanded.

She raised her chin, met his eyes with a steadfast gaze. She was so good at cloaking her feelings when she wanted to. She was putting up barriers, keeping him from getting too close.

“Would you like to be more than just my sexual playmate?” Quinn asked, barely daring to hope that she might say yes.

Kay laughed. “Of course not. We’re at opposite places in our lives. You’re ready for marriage, and I just got out of a lousy relationship. I’ve got a lot to learn about myself before I can be with any man.”

His hopes sank as quickly as they’d buoyed. So much for wishing on a star.

“That man’s comment,” she continued, “simply brought home to me how different we really are. How much a fish out of water I am here.”

He squeezed her hand. “Sweetheart, don’t let what other people think bother you so much.”

“That’s hard for me. I was raised to believe the opinion of others matters a great deal.”

“You’re going to have to get over this need to please everyone.” He traced a finger along her jawline. “Or you’ll never please yourself.”

“I know.”

“We’ll have to address this issue in our next love lesson. Obviously it’s deep-seated. In fact, I think we may have stumbled onto the real reason you’ve never been able to have an orgasm. You are repressed.”

“Tell me, Doctor—” she laughed again “—is there any hope for me?”

“As long as you have that sense of humor, there’s always hope.”

In that moment she looked so forlorn he knew that the laughter was merely a cover. She really feared that she could never have an orgasm.

He shook his head in disbelief, wondering where she’d gotten such an idea. Frigid women didn’t wear stockings and garters and sexy black lace bras. They didn’t travel more than three thousand miles in search of sexual release. He admired her courage more than he could say, and he was even more determined than ever to help this amazing woman achieve her goal.

Quinn hauled her across the seat toward him, wrapped his arms around her. Her pale hair shone in the darkness, her tantalizing feminine scent filling his nostrils. He was overwhelmed with myriad sensations, and he didn’t fully understand a single one of them. Except for a flourishing need that was both distinguishable and unequaled. Lust. Yet wildly stronger than lust.

His body ached to be joined with hers. He wanted to be buried inside her. He longed to hear her soft cries of encouragement, yearned to feel the satisfying clench of her love muscles around his erection as he thrust deeper and deeper until she began to be a part of him.

Kay was as eager as he. Her lips parted in anticipation; her breathing sped up.

“And you want me?” she whispered.

He guided her hand to his rock-solid erection. “You tell me.”

She gasped, and in the glow from the dashboard, he saw her eyes widen. “You’re so hard.”

“That’s what you do to me, Kay.”

He kissed her then, inhaled her sweet, sweet taste and reveled in the heat of her mouth against his. Every time he kissed her, it felt like the first time. He marveled at everything about her. Her flavor, her scent, the plushness of her pampered skin. He felt as if he was tumbling down a long, dark hole, and he didn’t care one whit that it was bottomless.

She made muted noises of pleasure, and he almost came right then and there. He pulled away, panting slightly.

The rasp of their breathing filled the cab of the truck.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing’s wrong. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any woman. I want you so much it literally causes me pain.”

She trembled against his chest. “Oh, Quinn, I want you that way, too. I never knew my body’s hunger could be so overpowering.”

“Neither did I, sweetheart, neither did I.”

Then without warning she scooted her tush across the seat until her hot body was flush with his. She pressed those sweet, honeyed lips to the pulse at his throat and lightly bit down. She ran a hand up the nape of his neck, entangled her fingers in his hair and stoked little swirl patterns that sent spikes of hard desire shoving through him.

“What are you doing?” His voice was so husky, so soaked with desire, he could scarcely hear the words.

“Take me home with you,” she whispered between nibbles. “Take me home and make love to me right now.”

“You have no idea how much I’d like to do exactly that.”

“So put the truck in gear and let’s get out of here.”

He shook his head. “We can’t.”

“Why not?” Her lips puckered into a pout.

“Because,” he said, “you’re still not ready.”

WHAT DID HE MEAN she wasn’t ready? If he didn’t make love to her soon, Kay was going to split in two.

He’d left her on the front porch of the B&B last night with the promise he’d pick her up the following evening to continue her love lessons. But that wasn’t enough. She wanted more and she wanted it now.

Kay stared at the screen of her laptop computer, at what she’d written more than four hours earlier and hadn’t added a word to since: “During early March in Bear Creek, needle-cold wind rinses every impurity from the air.”

But that sharp cold did nothing to dispel her impure thoughts. In fact, the weather seemed to escalate her horniness. Face it, her brain was mush. Courtesy of Quinn Scofield.

The tease.

She was beginning to think he was enjoying torturing her far too much. What was he planning now?

The knock at her bedroom door startled her. She slid off the bed and padded over to throw it open. And was brightened to see Quinn standing there with a large, brown paper bag in his hand.

She glanced at her watch, then back at him. “You’re way early.”

“I know. Thought I’d catch you off guard.”

“I’m not ready.” She gestured at her long-sleeved T-shirt layered over powder-blue long johns.

“We’re not going anywhere.”

“We’re not?”

“Nope. I decided to bring the party to you.”

“Oh?” Warily she eyed the bag. “What’s in there?”

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

“Satisfaction brought him back.”

“Precisely.” He shouldered past her and his big frame seemed to fill the whole room. Kay kicked the door closed behind him.

“Ah.” He set the bag down on her dressing table and nodded at her laptop. “You’re working on the article. Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all. I was done for the day.” She skipped over to the computer and slammed the top down. She didn’t want him seeing what pitiful little she’d written and figuring out he was responsible for her writer’s block.

“Don’t you think you should save your work before you lose it?” he asked.

One sentence. How tough would it be to lose one sentence?

“I already saved.” She circled closer to the paper bag, hoping to get a peek inside.

But Quinn was quicker. He clamped a hand around the top. “Ah-ah, no peeking.”

“You’re driving me right out of my skull. I hope you know that.” Then she did something completely out of character for a self-possessed, controlled Freemont. She stuck her tongue out at him.

It felt great. It felt freeing. And it made Quinn laugh.

She liked making him laugh.

“Yeah,” he said. “You better be careful the way you use that thing. I can think of several good uses for a sexy tongue.”

“You’re all talk, big boy,” she challenged, squaring off with him toe-to-toe. “You had your chance last night and you blew it.”

“That’s why I’m here. To make amends.”

“Yes?” She perked up at the offer. Was he actually going to make love to her this time?

“The real reason I came over here, instead of taking you to my place, is that Jake’s rooms all come complete with those nice, deep, oversize whirlpool-jet bathtubs.”

“Meaning?”

Oh, she was enjoying herself.

Quinn reached for the sack and with excruciatingly slow movements removed first a bottle of foaming bath oil and then a package of floating candles.

Kay grinned. Was this guy romantic or what?

“I’ll run the bath,” he said. “You slip into your robe and pin up your hair.”

He went into the adjoining bathroom. Kay heard the water come on and she couldn’t get naked fast enough. She stripped off her T-shirt and long johns and wrapped a fluffy white bathrobe around her body. She peeled off her socks, nudged her feet into house slippers, then twisted her hair up off her neck and pinned it in place with a couple of bobby pins.

By the time she edged into the bathroom to join Quinn, the mirrors were already steamed over.

Watching her walk into the room made Quinn’s pulse jump. One sleeve of her too-large bathrobe had slipped down on her shoulder, exposing a slender collarbone and an enticing expanse of creamy-white skin. He almost dropped the bath oil and felt himself grow instantly hard with desire for her.

God, she was gorgeous.

She crossed the room toward him. Quinn gulped and backed up as far as he could, until a towel rack poked him in the shoulder blades. Holy cow, what was she doing?

She went up on tiptoe, cocked her head and lightly brushed her lips over his before lowering her heels to the floor again.

Yo, Mama!

She nuzzled his neck, her labored breathing fanning warmly across his flesh. He tried not to think about their perfect fit, his throbbing arousal and how easy it would be to surrender to temptation and take her right here on the bathroom floor. She was extracting her revenge, torturing him the way he’d been torturing her for days. And he was defenseless against her.

He kissed her ear, then ran a tongue along the faint scar traversing her skin from her ear to her jaw. “How’d you get the scar?”

She shivered into his chest. “Who cares?”

“I do,” he whispered. “I want to know everything about you.”

“Why?” She raised her head so she could study his face.

“You’re interesting.” He traced a finger along the scar.

She made a dismissive noise.

“You’re not going to tell me?”

Dropping her gaze, she shrugged. “Not much to tell. It happened during the one and only time my mother let me play with the maid’s children. For weeks I’d begged to be allowed to join in their fun. We were running and diving on a Slip-and-Slide when I slipped off the slide and slammed into a yard ornament.” She raised a hand to the scar. “I had to have six stitches.”

“Your mother never let you play with those kids again?”

“That was the end of my Slip-and-Slide days. Mummy said the maid’s children were ruffians. That they’d maimed me for life.”

“I love your scar,” he declared fiercely.

“My mother still hounds me about getting plastic surgery. But it’s such a small mark, and to tell the truth, I was always a little proud of my battle wound.” She smiled.

“I hate to say this sweetheart, but your mother…” He shook his head, let his words trail off. He didn’t want to bad-mouth her mother, but the more he found out about Kay’s family, the more he understood why she was so emotionally repressed.

“Shh,” she said. “No more talking.”

Lifting her shoulders, she untied her sash and the next thing he knew, the bathrobe lay in a circle about her feet.

He swallowed. Hard. And waved at the tub.

Kay pushed a tendril of loose hair from her face and met his gaze. There was no mistaking the appreciation in his eyes as he visually caressed her body. That and the slight groan that slipped from his lips let her know how much he wanted her.

Suddenly she felt self-conscious. Freemont women don’t get naked and splash around in the bath with men they barely know.

That thought overrode her hesitancy. She wanted to do the exact opposite of what a Freemont woman would do. Face it, Freemont women were fuddy-duds who tolerated adulterous husbands and sublimated their sexuality through shopping sprees and plastic surgery. Did she want to end up like her mother and her grandmother and her aunts and female cousins? All superficial women with nothing more to concern themselves with than the latest fall fashions or which bedroom to redecorate next or how many people to invite to their summer soirée. None of them had real marriages or real jobs or expressed authentic feelings.

She raised her head again, determined to see this through, and noticed Quinn was wincing. Her gaze trailed lower, and she spotted the source of his discomfort—the erection pushing against his zipper.

He was watching her, his eyes taking in every curve and dip of her body. His glance traveled from her shoulders to her breasts to her waist and lower. Up and down the length of her legs, then stopped to linger a moment at the blond triangle between her thighs.

Awareness and a dazzling heat prickled her skin. She’d never felt so exposed. She’d thought that night in the sauna had been sexually charged, but then, because of a silk blindfold, she’d been unable to read his reaction to her body. Now she saw every erotic thought that crossed his face. And the power she held over him blew her away.

Her entire body flushed with the heat of his stare. Damn. She’d never blushed so much in her life as she had around him. That unabashed stare of his caused her heart to do the conga against her rib cage. Her hormones were flipping like acrobats in the far recesses of her groin.

He made her feel special, and yet she had no right to feel that way. Quinn was a ladies’ man. No doubt about it. From that wolfish grin to the romantic bath complete with bubbles and candles, it was clear he appreciated women. Right now he was appreciating her for all he was worth, and she was helpless against his charms.

It wasn’t that men hadn’t told her she was beautiful before. She’d had many admirers. The trouble was, because of her own lack of sexual interest in them, she hadn’t believed their flattery. She figured that, like Lloyd, they were interested only in her wealth, her family’s reputation, her blueblood pedigree.

But Quinn was different. He made her feel a thousand times a woman, and he didn’t seem to care one whit that she came from blue-blood stock or that her family oozed money.

Funny that the man she was most attracted to would be the man she couldn’t have in the long term.

Ha, ha, good one, Fate. The joke’s on me.

Because despite her best intentions not to get emotionally involved with Quinn, he had a sneaky way of flying under her radar, weakening her defenses, slashing right to the root of her intimate longings. It was if he knew what was in her heart and in her mind.

Spooky stuff.

Enough to make her rethink this whole orgasm business.

When had things gotten so complicated?

Just go along for the ride, she told herself. Savor every step of the way with this star-kissed man. Abandon all caution. Bestow yourself on him here and now. Accept what he can offer you; don’t pine for more.

This extraordinary man was giving new life to her parched body, waking up her sleeping soul. For that, she would be eternally grateful.

He tipped his head in that rakish way he had, and a lock of whiskey-colored hair fell across his brow. He arched an eyebrow expectantly. “Well? Are you going to get in the bath or not?”

Well, indeed.

Here goes nothing.

Gingerly she stepped into the bubbling water, then sank into the steamy depths. A moan of pleasure escaped her lips as her muscles at first flexed and then relaxed, soothed by the pulsating jets and silky heat of the water. It felt as if she was sliding into a tub of liquefied butter. Hot, thick and sinfully delicious.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and knelt beside the tub. “The point here is to get you completely relaxed.”

“I’m well on the way.”

“Close your eyes.”

The corners of her mouth tipped up in a smile, and she let her eyelids drift closed. In a moment she felt Quinn’s hand on her fingers, oh-so-leisurely massaging each knuckle.

She didn’t know what to expect. Anything and everything he did was a wondrous surprise. From her hand, he advanced to her wrist, then ran his fingers, in a feather-soft stroke, up and down the delicate underside of her forearms.

Kay shivered, alarmed at the intensity of the sensation. “No, don’t, it’s too much.”

“Shh,” he soothed, and kept stroking. In a moment the tickling sensation passed and she began to enjoy herself.

He massaged each arm, then turned his attention to her feet.

“Oooh.” She sighed as his fingers kneaded her toes, the balls of her feet, her heels.

His tender massage seemed to last forever. When she thought she might fall asleep she was so relaxed, he moved up her legs to her calves and there, he applied hard pressure that made her groan. When his fingers brushed the erogenous area behind her knees, she almost came undone.

She waited for his hand to slide upward to her thighs and beyond, but he disappointed her and stopped. She opened one eye, saw him soaping up a sponge with vanilla-scented bath soap. She smelled the homey, sweet aroma as it clung to drops of steamy air.

He rubbed her shoulders with the sponge, then ran it over her breasts. Kay sucked in a breath. Her nipples beaded and begged for more attention. He washed her belly, then her thighs, but he completely avoided the part of her she most wanted him to touch.

He was doing this on purpose, she thought, working her to a fever-pitch, then dropping her like a skydiver without a parachute.

She shifted position and spread her legs, hoping to tempt him to go farther, explore more. Water sloshed over the edge of the tub, soaking his shirt. She looked up at him and smirked. She could see his nipples had beaded as tight and hard as her own.

“Whoa there,” he said, his voice husky. “Slow down, sweetheart, we’ve got hours and hours yet to go.”