Free A Touch of Silk by Lori Wilde Page A

that. He didn’t want either of them to get hurt. But man, how he wanted to make love to her.
    His gut somersaulted and he drew in a deep, steadying breath, unable to remember when one woman had tied him so inextricably into knots. He was afraid of screwing up, of making a wrong move, of letting this one slip through his fingers. He wanted her with a power that shook his normal confidence.
    Kay stopped on the wooden promenade, inhaled deeply of the cold air and gazed at the mountains surrounding the town.
    “It’s so incredibly beautiful here,” she murmured. “Breathtaking. Overwhelming. Majestic. Totally wild. Honestly, I had no idea.”
    “It’s just home to me.” He grinned.
    “I can’t believe how different it is from New York. Bear Creek is quaint and clean and charming. No noise, no pollution, no panhandlers. I’ve got to tell you the truth, all this quiet is a shock to my system. How do you stand it?”
    “How do you stand Manhattan?”
    She gave a little laugh, and the delicate, feminine sound drilled a corkscrew of awareness straight through his groin. “I suppose it’s what you’re accustomed to. Although I’ve got to admit it can be a tough place to live. I’ve been mugged twice in two years.”
    “That’s awful.”
    She shrugged. “Builds character.”
    “I hate the thought of someone accosting you,” he said vehemently. “Makes me want to do bodily harm.”
    “Omigosh!” she exclaimed, and latched on to his arm.
    “What is it?”
    “There’s a moose. Trotting right down Main Street. I was reading a book on Alaska on the flight over, and it said moose are often more dangerous than bears. Is that true?”
    “Moose have been known to cause a lot of damage.”
    “Do they bite?”
    Quinn struggled not to laugh. Her gloved fingers dug into his forearm. Her lithe body trembled against his. Ah, at last, here was his opportunity to touch her, even if he had to do something a little underhanded to keep her latched on to him.
    “Shh. Hang on to me, Kay. We’ll tiptoe past him and hopefully he won’t notice us.”
    “Quinn—” her voice warbled and her eyes grew round as hubcaps “—maybe we should turn around and go back to the pier. Give him the whole street.”
    The moose snorted and trotted closer.
    “Oh! Oh!”
    “I’ll protect you.” He thrust her behind him.
    Her arms went around his waist and her sweet-smelling head popped out from under the crook of his arm so she could keep her eyes fixed on the moose.
    “He’s huge,” she whispered. “What if he charges?”
    “I’ll hold him off while you run away.”
    “Quinn, I’m scared.”
    He patted her hand. “It’s all right, Kay. I won’t let any harm come to you. This isn’t New York.”
    The moose snorted and pawed the ground. Then raised his shaggy head and glared at them.
    Kay tightened her grip on his waist.
    “We’ll just ease on by.” Quinn took a tentative step forward.
    “No, no.” She dug in her heels. “Please don’t move.”
    The moose chose that moment to turn and lope off in the opposite direction. Kay sighed and sagged against his body. “Whew. That was a close call.”
    Reprobate, his conscience accused. Tell her the truth.
    “Kay…” he began, but she was no longer next to him. She was sprinting toward Jake’s B&B. He had to run to catch up with her.
    She wrenched open the door and tumbled headlong into the foyer.
    The place was packed with toddy-sipping locals gathered around a roaring fire, playing chess, swapping tall tales, listening to the weather report on the radio. The minute Kay burst through the entryway, every head turned to stare at her, and he hated the way they gawked.
    “Wild moose!” Kay gasped. “Walking down Main Street.”
    The denizens of Bear Creek, mostly men, all Quinn’s neighbors and friends, stared at her as if she was some exotic bird who’d migrated too far north. More than a few mouths dropped open, and even Lulu, Jake’s Siberian husky, lifted her head off