Melting His Alaskan Heart Page 3

  She placed the tape recorder on the oak coffee table and took out her list of questions. The warmth from their knees touching spread up to her thighs. She should slide over, but she didn’t want to. His hands were large. A small burn covered the back of his left hand. She wanted to ask what happened, but just before she spoke, her stomach gurgled.

  “Was that you?” he asked. “Are you hungry?”

  “Sorry.” How embarrassing. “Yes, I forgot to eat lunch today.”

  “I understand they’ve got quite a spread. It cost enough to attend this shindig, we should eat some of the food.” His fist bunched, then he tapped his fingers on his thigh.

  “No, it’s okay.” She needed to stick to business. “How old were you when you started skating?”

  “Listen. I’m hungry, too. Heck, I can always eat. I was going to order room service later, but that doesn’t make sense when there’s food we’ve already paid for here.” He stood up. “Come on, let’s go. You can still ask me questions over dinner.”

  He extended his hand. She hesitated only a second before placing her hand in his. “When you put it like that, how can I refuse?”

  That woozy off-balance feeling came over her again. She really did need food, but her unsteady equilibrium was more from Dane’s hand wrapped around hers than it was from her empty stomach. No, she would not fall for this guy, not today, not any day. He was a player, literally and by reputation.

  She had no interest in getting to know him, only getting the interview.

  That’s what she kept telling herself as they moved toward the buffet line with his hand pressed at the small of her back. The warmth of his fingers seeped to other parts of her body too, including her very core. Other women approached them, but it was as if Dane sent out a covert signal warning them away before they stepped closer. He was so tall and dark, and…well, he was a knight and she felt like a princess.

  It seemed to Carly as though he walked beside her not as a journalist and star athlete bound for an interview, but like they were a couple. The idea of it startled her so much, she stumbled.

  Dane caught her easily. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, sure.” She glanced at him, snatched a dinner plate, and extended it to the servers. The smell of prime rib, halibut, and vegetables wafted around them, but she only smelled the masculine scent of Dane. “The food smells good.”

  “Sure does.” He guided her through the line. Her belly did a somersault, but it had little to do with the food and everything to do with him.

  White linen tablecloths covered square tables interspersed throughout the room. A band played on the opposite end of the room from the buffet. Dane expertly moved her to a darkened corner away from both. A spicy scented cinnamon candle illuminated the small table for two. He set down his plate. “May I get you a glass of wine?”

  She really shouldn’t drink more, but wine would go nicely with halibut. “That would be great. Chardonnay, please.”

  A waitress approached them.

  “Chardonnay for the angel and I’ll have a Bud.”

  Carly unfurled her blue linen napkin and smoothed it on her lap. She must remain polite, but professional. This wasn’t a date, it was an interview. Nothing more. But it was hard to remember with the way his forearm bunched when he fisted his hands and gazed at her with intensity from behind that mask. She wasn’t immune to the aura that was Dane Forrester.

  How she’d managed to maneuver him into this position after all she’d heard about how difficult he could be was completely unknown to her, but why question it? For once in her life, she’d been given a break. Time to run with it.

  * * *

  ETHAN SHOULD HAVE STAYED in his room like he’d planned, but guilt wore him down. He’d have to maneuver around Carly’s questions because he’d given her his word. He wasn’t backing out of a deal.

  They both ate in silence for a time.

  The waitress returned with their wine and beer.

  “So tell me about your family.” She bit down on a steamed carrot and twirled her fork in the air. “I read you have three older brothers and a younger sister. Is that correct?”

  Ethan sliced into his prime rib before he answered. How was he going to manage to talk about Dane in the first person? Or himself in the third person? This was crazy. “Yes.”

  “And what are their names and what kind of work do they do?” Carly prompted him.

  Just stick to the facts, no extra information needed. “Fiona, my sister, she’s a student at Alaska State in Fairbanks. My brothers and I own a fly-in fishing and hunting lodge in Gold Creek. It’s about an hour-long flight north of town. Zak, the oldest, runs the day-to-day operations of the lodge. Ethan, the second oldest, coordinates the outdoor activities available for our clients who stay at the lodge: snow machining in the winter, hunting trips in the fall, fishing in the summer. He’s also a volunteer fireman. Travis is a pilot and owns his own air taxi operation. My mom lives in Fairbanks.”

  Carly nodded and gazed at him with intensity from behind the mask that partially covered her eyes. “Have you always lived in Alaska?”

  “Yes.” He liked the yes or no questions.

  “What was that like?”

  So much for the yes or no questions. Plus, he needed to remember to think the way Dane would think. How would Dane answer the questions? Simple, he wouldn’t. “It’s all I’ve known so it’s difficult to say. Alaska is cold and dark in the winter and hockey kept me occupied growing up. Kept me out of trouble.”

  “When did you start playing?”

  “I think I was five or six.”

  “Do your brothers and sister play?”

  “Yes, we all do.” Ethan took a bite of his prime rib and glanced at his wristwatch. Why did he agree to this again? Oh yeah, because Carly would get fired if he didn’t cooperate. It was going to be an even longer night if he didn’t come up with something to tell her.

  “Are they all good players? You know what I mean. Does hockey run in the family?”

  “Yes.” Maybe he was looking at this all wrong. He could have fun with it. Everyone said how he never had fun—maybe now was the time. “Ethan was an excellent player, but he lacked the drive it took to be at the rink day after day. I guess I shouldn’t say that. He did drive me to the rink for my practices at ungodly early hours. If not for Ethan, I wouldn’t be the player I am today.”

  Carly chewed on a bite of halibut. “Really, how’s that?”

  “I’m talking about when we were teenagers.” Ethan was momentarily transfixed watching her mouth move. “Zak was busy with whatever he was doing. My parents were working. Ethan had his driver’s license, so he was the one who usually hauled me around. He never complained though.”

  “Really? That’s admirable.” She leaned in, absentmindedly pressing her breasts against the table.

  “Ethan’s a great guy. You’d like him.” He smiled. What in the hell was he doing? He should slow down on the beer consumption, quit looking at her with lustful thoughts, and stop talking about himself as though he was so great. “How’s the food?”

  “It’s excellent.”

  Trent was headed their way. Ethan didn’t like the look in his eye. Trent walked as though he knew what he was after, intent on a mission. “Hey, Dane, mind if I speak with you privately for a sec?”

  “Ah, sure.” Ethan glanced at Carly. “Do you mind?”

  “Go ahead. I’ll finish eating.” She smiled.

  Ethan followed Trent to a quiet corner of the lobby. “I’m trying to run interference for you, or for Dane, but here’s the deal. I heard the boss talking about auctioning off dances with the players and your name came up.”

  “Damn.” Ethan fisted his hands. “Dane never said anything about that.”

  “It wasn’t planned. But this is a charity event and the boss man’s in charge, so if you don’t want to risk getting caught, you better beat it. He can’t make you participate in the impromptu auction if he can’t find you.”

  “I
agreed to give this gal an interview.”

  “Yeah, I could tell you were going to cave with that little angel of yours. Dane doesn’t give interviews—angel or not. But that’s fine. I would, too. She’s hot.”

  A twinge of jealousy spiked in his gut and Ethan didn’t like it. “Thanks for letting me know. Or thanks for Dane.”

  “No problem.”

  Trent gave Ethan a look he wasn’t sure he could define. Ethan headed back toward the dining area. But before he got too far, Trent called out, “That angel is hot—don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  “Yeah.” Ethan turned his head, but kept walking.

  “Then again,” Trent said. “You are Dane Forrester.”

  Ethan shook his head and listened to Trent’s laughter as it trailed behind him.

  Back at the table, Carly had finished all her food. Ethan loved a woman who actually ate. Hell, what was he thinking, it wasn’t like he was on a date. He slid into his chair across from her.

  “I love this song. Do you want to dance?” she asked.

  Taken aback, he eyed her creamy skin and the curve of her pouty mouth. “I’d love to.” Normally he didn’t dance, but for her he’d make an exception. “But Trent just told me the boss man wants me to be part of a dance-with-a-player auction or something like that. If you want to continue this interview, we need to leave.”

  Carly leaned over the table, gazing at him with glassy eyes. “But I was hoping to have dessert.”

  Ethan noticed the empty wine glasses beside her plate. Damn.

  “I can have dessert delivered to my room,” he said without thinking.

  “Are you inviting me to your room, Mr. Forrester?” She tipped her head to the side and lifted an eyebrow before propping her elbow on the table.

  Fully prepared to get shot down, he said, “I guess...yes, I am.” He needed to keep everything focused on business. “We can continue the interview there.”

  Carly slid out of the chair opposite him and took the one step alongside the table that separated them. “We could, but it depends.” She leaned into his shoulder. Her warm breath pressed into his ear. “Will you promise I get dessert?”

  He should walk away. She was too intoxicated to continue their interview anyway, but his body didn’t agree with him. The pants he wore under the flimsy chainmail suddenly got too tight. Double damn. He should at least take a second to think about the situation. “Yes.”

  She ran her hand from his bicep, down his arm, and stopped at his hand. She linked her fingers with his. “Let’s go.”

  Breath punched out of his chest. He pushed his chair back, intent on getting everything back on course to the interview. “So about the interview…what’s your next question?”

  “Umm...I’m thinking.” She squeezed his hand. “I need to refer to my notes.”

  He pulled on her hand and made a beeline for the elevator.

  CHAPTER 4

  Carly stepped into the elevator with Dane. She gripped his hand like it was a life preserver and she’d drown in the ocean if she didn’t hold on tight. She knew the alcohol she’d consumed helped her self-confidence, but was she going through with this? She mentally battled the demons in her head. Her brothers came to mind, each holding a shotgun.

  “This is really starting to itch.” Letting go of his hand, she removed the Venetian Bella mask and halo and slipped them in her purse. “Darn. I forgot to restart my tape recorder at dinner.” She looked up at Dane. So tall and dark. “I’ll probably need to ask a few of the same questions again, so I can get your response on tape.” He stared at her, unmoving. “What? Is my mascara smeared?”

  “No. I—you’re beautiful—is all. Your mask hid…your eyes.”

  Her pulse strummed through her veins with more intensity. He didn’t talk like a player. In fact, he almost seemed shy. All the gossip from the other reporters about Dane didn’t hold a grain of truth. Her insides melted a little bit more. “That’s a very nice thing to say. Thank you.”

  He stared down at his feet. “You’re welcome.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself.” She reached for his hand again.

  He grunted in response and Carly squashed the laughter that threatened to bubble up. He could have had any woman he wanted in the entire room tonight, no matter how he looked. But he made her feel as though she was the only woman who interested him. She continued to battle the thoughts running through her head. She was going someplace private to continue the interview—nothing more…but on the other hand, in an instant of bold bravado she did ask him about dessert. Dessert could be taken two ways. Which way had she intended, and which way had he taken it? Maybe she should clarify with him. Maybe she should clarify with herself, too. “Um, Dane, about my dessert comment. I’m not sure what came over me, or rather, I’m not really sure what I meant.”

  “It’s all good,” he said.

  She couldn’t understand from his tone what he might be feeling or thinking.

  “We’ll continue the interview in my room and I’ll order dessert. Real dessert,” he said with emphasis. “What’s your favorite?”

  “We could look at the menu and decide together. I love any kind, well, anything with caramel is good…but if you don’t want to order anything, it’s okay.” She sounded like a lovesick teenager uncertain of what she wanted. Time to grow up and quit fighting the demons. She might be dressed as an angel, but she wasn’t thinking one single angelic thought when she looked at Dane Forrester. He’d chosen her tonight. Her. He had dismissed other women who approached him. She had every reason to feel pleased.

  The elevator door opened. They stepped out. Dane swiped his key and held the door for her. She stepped into a luxurious room decorated in maroon and gold, complete with a sitting room, mini kitchen, fireplace, and bedroom. An expanse of ceiling to floor windows looked out over Cook Inlet. “Oh my God, this room is amazing.”

  Carly swung around and ran into Dane. He stood so close. The heat from his body rippled through her torso. The hard expanse of his chest crushed against her aching breasts. His arms held onto her waist. “I’ve got you.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. She didn’t know what to say until his grip started to loosen. “No, don’t let go.”

  “Carly, I—”

  She flattened her hands against the smooth planes of his chest. “Please…”

  He backed up a half step. Carly leaned into him. She didn’t want even an inch of distance between them. This aggressive behavior was not like her. She only knew she needed the ache in her core to be sated. She wanted this knight to be the one to feed it, to fill her, to quench the dying thirst she felt rising up to suffocate her.

  “Carly, about the interview…” Dane again backed up, but Carly would have none of it. To hell with the interview.

  “I don’t care about the interview right now.” She snaked her hands around his neck. He backed into a wall. She took advantage and ground her body against his.

  He moaned and dug his hands into her hips as though he suddenly left reason behind and listened to his baser impulses. “Carly, I—”

  “Don’t talk. Kiss me.”

  His mouth plunged against hers. She opened up to him and let her body meld against him. Their tongues entwined, stabbing, then retreated in a perfect dance.

  His warm hand splayed across her back, then cupped her bottom. The other hand caressed her breast. He pulled her closer until they fused together. Her fingers entwined in his hair and slid along the rim of his mask. Her breathing came in erratic gasps. Longing corroded every edge of her body.

  His fingers reached for the laces of her bustier. She helped him untie them. Her breasts broke free from the satin material that held them in place. He dipped his head to consume a hardened nipple in his mouth. Arching her back, she groaned and wanted to rid herself of all the clothing that separated them.

  Dane flipped her around so her back was against the wall. Her breath came in quick pants. “Oh, God, Dane—”

  He immediat
ely stopped. His lips swept up to her ear. He whispered, “Call me Knight. I’m just a knight.”

  “Knight,” she said. “I’ll call you anything you want, just—I need—I want these clothes off.”

  “Anything you want,” he said. “Anything you want is yours. I’m at your service.”

  Desire coursed through her. “You’re here to rescue me, Knight?”

  He nuzzled his mouth against her neck. “Yes, milady—give me your scarf to wear while I slay dragons for you.”

  She laughed. “Dragons? Jousting another knight off his horse will do.”

  “All I want is to get rid of this angel costume. If I have to joust someone off their horse to do it, I will.”

  Carly pushed on the wall of his chest until he backed up a step. She strode toward the bedroom, unlacing the rest of her bustier as she went. Her wings were probably crushed, but she didn’t care.

  Somehow she knew she could trust this man. No matter what she’d heard about him, she knew he was good and she wanted to be with him. Her intuition about people had never let her down. This was why she was an excellent journalist. She saw beyond the exterior of people and put words on paper in a relatable way.

  Gold and maroon velvet throw pillows covered the head of the king-sized bed. All her inhibitions vanished and she really did feel like some historical lady in need of rescuing. Keeping her back to Dane, she unhooked the remaining laces and stripped her bustier off. With a deep breath, she swung around, but Dane hadn’t followed her.

  * * *

  ETHAN GAPED at Carly’s retreating form before she turned inside the bedroom and out of his line of sight. Her curves, her sway, her sensuality, everything about her had him hard and ready. But after he caught his breath, he remembered who he really was: not Dane, not a knight, just a volunteer fireman and welder who had nothing to give. From where he stood outside the bedroom door, he only saw the empty bed, until a white satin piece of cloth hit it.