To Alaska, With Love: A Touch of Silk
A TOUCH OF SILKManhattan columnist Kay Freemont has made a career out of writing about sex and relationships, yet spends her nights alone. So when sexy Alaskan bachelor Quinn Scofield places an ad in her magazine to find a wife, Kay can't resist the opportunity to finally see what all the hype is about. Though city girl Kay was only looking for a red-hot fling, she's beginning to feel right at home, both in the small town of Bear Creek-and in Quinn's loving arms. A Thrill to Remember Meggie Scofield is ready to rejoin the dating scene after her divorce, and the town's masquerade party seems like the perfect place to start. Delighted when a gorgeous masked man catches her eye, Meggie is later stunned to find out the sexy stranger is actually Caleb Greenleaf, her former brother-in-law!Their chemistry is undeniable, but will one thrilling night turn into the love they've both been looking for?
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A Touch of Silk
Manhattan columnist Kay Freemont has made a career out of writing about sex and relationships, yet spends her nights alone. So when sexy Alaskan bachelor Quinn Scofield places an ad in her magazine to find a wife, Kay canât resist the opportunity to finally see what all the hype is about. Though city girl Kay was only looking for a red-hot fling, sheâs beginning to feel right at home, both in the small town of Bear Creekâand in Quinnâs loving arms.
A Thrill to Remember
Meggie Scofield is ready to rejoin the dating scene after her divorce, and the townâs masquerade party seems like the perfect place to start. Delighted when a gorgeous masked man catches her eye, Meggie is later stunned to find out the sexy stranger is actually Caleb Greenleaf, her former brother-in-law! Their chemistry is undeniable, but will one thrilling night turn into the love theyâve both been looking for?
Table of Contents
Lori Wilde
To Birgit Davis-Todd, who gave me the chance to write about my wild, sexy Alaskans.
And to my inspirationâthe great state of Alaska.
THE PANTY HOSE were killing him. Cutting his gut clean in two. Whoever invented the torturous things should be strangled outright. No mercy shown.
Sheer, black, tight. They clung like second skin to the most exquisitely shaped pair of legs heâd ever seen. Narrow ankles, smooth rounded calves, supple knees and firm thighs.
She crossed her legs and the panty hose murmured a soft whisper. Swish.
And what about that dark seam running up the back? Simply sin-sational!
Lord have mercy on an Alaskan manâs soul. Heâd never witnessed such sights in his hometown of Bear Creek. For a second there Quinn Scofield thought he would have to ask the flight attendant for an oxygen mask.
Boldly he peered over the top of his Wilderness Guide Monthly at the blond, sleek-haired, Charlize Theron look-alike. She sat in first-class seat 1B, one diagonal row up from his position in 2C. She and her dynamite hosiery, presumably on their way to JFK, had boarded the plane during the layover at OâHare, but not once had she glanced behind her. Instead, she had been studiously typing into her laptop computer for the past thirty minutes.
This one was too cool for school and she knew it. Polished, classy, undeniably an urbanite, she was definitely not the kind of woman he was searching for. But man, did she ever rev his engines. Without the slightest provocation, he could easily imagine those fine, gorgeous limbs wrapped around his midsection or slung over his shoulders in the throes of serious sex.
âReal hottie, isnât she?â his seatmate, a paunchy, middle-aged businessman whoâd had one too many whiskey sours, slurred, and nodded at the woman.
âSheâs very attractive, yes,â Quinn agreed, but kept his voice low so she wouldnât overhear.
Unfortunately the other manâs volume control had been affected by his alcohol intake. He leaned close in a confidential manner, nudged Quinn in the ribs and winked boldly. âIâd do her in a New York minute. Know what I mean?â
Slowly Charlize turned and pinned them both with an icy glare. Quick, like a little boy chastised, the businessman looked away. But Quinn didnât flinch. Heâd been dying for a glimpse of those eyes, and he wasnât going to let his seatmateâs bad manners deprive him of the thrill.
Their gazes met.
And he wasnât disappointed. Her eyes were as compelling as the rest of her. Sharp, slightly almond-shaped, the color of dark chocolate.
His heart did a triple axel, then dropped, ker-plunk, into his stomach. Heâd always had a weakness for brown-eyed blondes. Quinn smiled, giving her his best George-Clooney-on-the-make imitation.
Charlize didnât return the favor.
âHi,â he greeted her boldly. âHow you doinâ?â
For a minute there he thought she might speak.
Her lips parted. Her eyes widened. A hint of a smile hovered.
Come on, sweetheart, give it up.
His hopes lodged in his throat. Suddenly his imagination transported him back to the fifth grade. He remembered sneaking off during recess to play spin the bottle with his classmates in the basement of Seward Middle School with the singular hope of kissing Mindy Lou Johnson.
But then Charlize cruelly shattered his dreams. Without a word, she flicked her gaze away, as if he was of no more significance than a pesky fly, and went back to her laptop.
Snubbed! Okay, thatâs what he got for daring to speak to the Queen of Cool.
