A Thrill To Remember

She wished he would cut it out.

Now she could say she knew exactly how a goldfish felt.

Exposed.

He leaned over, picked up her orphaned shoe and indicated her bare foot with a nod. “May I?”

Numbly, Meggie plunked back down in the chair and extended her leg.

Don Juan sank to one knee, cupped her heel in his palm and, like Prince Charming with Cinderella, gently slipped the scarlet shoe onto her foot.

The warmth from his hand was too much. She felt as if she’d slipped into a vat of melted chocolate.

He stood. Unbidden, her gaze tracked a path down the length of him. His body was hard and lean and muscular. A honed body that spoke of time spent outdoors, not lingering behind some desk.

Impressive.

He was a provocative specimen, from his thick unruly black hair, which contrasted starkly with the pristine white of his collar, to his broad-shouldered torso that tapered down to the narrow waistband of those exquisite leather pants.

This was way too much excitement for one night. This evening was supposed to be her coming-out party. The first time she had attended a public function since her divorce six months earlier. The first time she’d done anything remotely social since taking a leave of absence from her job as a pediatric nurse in Seattle.

She’d returned to Bear Creek under the auspices of helping her mother while she recovered from ankle surgery. But in truth, Meggie had come back to the safety of her hometown in order to regroup and lick her wounds.

She refused to get trapped in a rebound situation. She wasn’t about to repeat her past mistakes by falling headlong for some totally inappropriate guy.

You could just have a wild affair.

Impossible.

She felt her face heat at the very suggestion. Meggie Scofield was not a wild affair kinda gal. She was too sensible, too responsible and too darned cautious to leap without looking.

One thing was clear. Because she couldn’t seem to trust her own emotions, she had to get away from this guy. Fast.

Grabbing her clutch purse, which had slipped into the crack behind the chair cushion, she jerked a thumb in the direction of the ladies’ room.

In a tight whisper she stammered, “I’m gonna…I just gotta…go.”

A smile curled his lips, as if her nervousness amused him. He looked as if he might say something else, but Meggie didn’t wait to hear it. She darted from the chair and made a beeline for the bathroom, her heart pounding as it never had before.

2

SEVERAL MINUTES LATER her three best friends found her hiding out in the ladies’ lounge, head tucked between her knees as she tried not to hyperventilate.

“Meggie! Are you okay?” Kay Freemont Scofield, Meggie’s new sister-in-law, settled herself on the sofa next to her and draped an arm around her shoulder.

Woefully, Meggie raised her head. “Fine if you consider a five-alarm hot flash fine.”

“Does it have anything to do with that hottie in the Don Juan costume we saw you talking to?” Classy, native New Yorker Kay looked stunning in her Mata Hari costume. Then again Kay, a Charlize Theron look-alike, would be stunning in a tow sack.

“Certainly not. I just got overheated in that crowded room.”

“Don Juan looks like he could definitely steam up the sheets. Need an ice pack?” Sassy Sadie Stanhope, dressed as Marie Antoinette, wriggled her eyebrows and parked her fanny in front of the vanity mirror to freshen up her makeup.

“No,” Meggie declared, reluctant to admit her helpless attraction. But then she ruined her nonchalant pose by asking, “Do you know who he is?”

“Nope.” Kay shook her head. “But he is adorable.”

Adorable? That wasn’t a label Meggie would have chosen for that studly slab of manhood. Her heel still burned from his touch.

Reaching over, Cammie Jo Lockhart rubbed Don Juan’s silk cloak between her fingers. “Cool cape. Did you two play superhero and damsel in distress?”

“Don’t be silly, I did not play anything with that man. I was cold. He lent me his cape. End of story.”

“Wait a minute. I thought you said you were overheated.”

“That was before.”

“Before what?” Cammie Jo grinned.

“Before Mr. Hot-Bod draped his cape over her shoulders.” Sadie measured off an inch with her thumb and forefinger. “Come on, Megs, are you sure you’re not just the teeniest bit interested in him?”

Meggie shook her head. “Okay. So the man is sexy. Big deal. I’ll tell you what the real problem is—this costume. I told you guys it was a big mistake. I look like some third-rate hooker. He probably thought I was a hooker.”

She got up to lean over Sadie’s head and peer at her reflection in the vanity mirror. Kay had helped her get ready for the party, and she’d spread enough makeup on Meggie’s face to frost a cake.

But at the same time she was protesting, a quiet thrill of pleasure rippled through Meggie. She had managed to attract the attention of a very handsome man. Still, in this racy disguise she felt like an inexperienced driver behind the wheel of a souped-up muscle car.

So much flash. So much power.

So darned much potential for disaster, whispered her voice of reason.

The same confounded voice that had kept her tied to outmoded values for far too many years. The same stick-in-the-mud voice she had desperately tried to quell when she had allowed her friends to talk her into this outrageous costume.

“Don’t be silly,” Kay said matter-of-factly.

“Klondike Kate is the perfect alter ego, and you look fabulous in that bustier.”

Meggie twirled, the cape whirling about her waist as she peeked over her shoulder at the mirror. She sighed. “It makes my butt look big.”

“Stop cutting yourself down,” Kay said. “You’ve got a great figure.”

“Not according to Jesse,” she muttered blackly, narrowing her eyes at the reflection of her well-rounded bottom.

“Oh, screw Jesse.”

“Not anymore, thank you very much. I’ll leave that to the eighteen-year-old groupies,” Meggie said in a tart tone that caused Sadie and Cammie Jo to lapse into gales of laughter.

“As well you should.” Kay nodded.

Jesse’s leaving hadn’t hurt nearly as much as his cruel parting shot. He had told her point-blank she was a lousy lay and that’s why he had been forced to stray from their marriage bed.

“Face it, Meggie. You’re a dud in the sack,” he had said, lashing out at her. “Sock puppets are more fun than you.”

Meggie winced at the memory. His words hurt because they were true. She wasn’t very adventuresome when it came to sex, and she’d always preferred snuggling to the actual act. Not that her ex had been much of a cuddler.

Kay, Sadie and Cammie Jo had rallied around, just as they were now, helping her through the rough spots with too much chocolate and lots of laughter. Most surprisingly, and most comforting of all, however, was the support she’d gotten from Jesse’s stepbrother, Caleb.

Caleb was such a sweet guy, concerned that she might be humiliated or worried that the rest of the family thought ill of her. He had come to see her at her parents’ house right after he’d found out about the divorce, just to assure her that everyone understood and sympathized with her.

“You’ve got to stop judging yourself on what other people think,” Sadie advised, “and find your authentic self.”

“Thank you, Dr. Phil.”

“Sadie’s right. You are much too good for Jesse’s sorry ass.” Kay picked up on Meggie’s sadness.

In a moment of weakness, she had confessed to Kay the whole sordid details of their breakup, which included finding black thong panties that definitely weren’t hers dangling from the kitchen ceiling fan.

“You shouldn’t let him squash your self-esteem. If I can come out of my shell, so can you,” Cammie Jo said. After meeting her husband-to-be, bush pilot Mack McCaulley, she had recently been through a startling transformation of her own.

“Cammie Jo makes an excellent point.” Sadie nodded. “You need to reclaim your womanhood. Declare your independence. Redefine your sexuality. It’s way past time you started to live a little.”

Live a little.

Just the mention of those three short words caused Meggie’s heart to flutter with anticipation. She thought of Don Juan and her stomach did cartwheels. Did she have the guts to go back out there and start a conversation with him?

A conversation that might lead to…where?

An edginess nibbled at Meggie, challenging her to do something forbidden. She felt concurrently hot and cold and bizarrely excited.

“If you’ve got it, flaunt it,” Kay said.

“I’m not much of a flaunter.”

“It’s time you started. You’ve spent too much of your life taking care of other people. Your mother’s ankle has healed. You’re going back home to Seattle tomorrow to begin your new life as a single woman. What better time to start taking care of numero uno than right this minute?”

Kay spoke words of wisdom, but Meggie felt uncomfortable admitting her vulnerability. She was a nurse. She was supposed to be the strong, reliable one. She blew off her shortcomings with a laugh, pretending a sharp sticker of emotional pain did not skitter low in her belly.

It wasn’t so much sadness over Jesse’s betrayal. Truth be told, she was relieved to be out of the unhappy union. Their marriage had died long before the divorce; she just hadn’t had the gumption to bring it to its natural conclusion.

Rather, the tight coil of anxiety resulted from realizing she’d wasted so much time trying to be what Jesse had wanted her to be in order to hang on to something that wasn’t right in the first place.

A nurturer by nature, she’d never put her own needs first. Meggie had spent her entire life looking after others in one way or another. As a kid, she had taken in every stray animal she had stumbled across, and she’d helped her mother care for her invalid grandmother. As an adult, her natural ease in providing moral, emotional and physical support had led to a career in nursing, which was a source of constant pride.

Unfortunately, her need to be needed had also led her into an unsatisfactory marriage. She’d fallen for Jesse because he was everything she was not. Lively, animated, adventuresome, freewheeling. He played in a hip-hop band, drove fast cars and was always surrounded by people.

She had mistakenly believed he could give her the courage she lacked, while at the same time convincing herself she could offer him stability and security. She’d been drawn to the fact that he’d needed her, but not long after their wedding, the problems surfaced.

All too clearly now, she could see her mistakes.

What she’d once perceived as Jesse’s ability to take life nice and easy was in actuality irresponsibility. He was always on the road, leaving her at home to take care of everything—the bills, the house, the cars. She’d been as good as single for the past five years, but without the freedom to choose for herself what kind of life she really wanted.

“Remember,” Kay said, uncannily reading her mind. “The best revenge is a life well lived. Come on, Meggie. Let your hair down. Don’t be ashamed to explore.”

“You’re absolutely right.” Sounded good, anyway.

“This is your chance. You’ve been stagnating and you need something to snap you out of the doldrums. Don’t be nervous about spreading your wings. Now is the time to fly.” Sadie threw in her two cents worth.

Why not? Under the protection of her Klondike Kate guise, Meggie could flirt with Don Juan to her heart’s content. No one in Bear Creek, other than her three friends, would ever know whose face lurked behind the red-feathered mask. She was anonymous.

Why that thought should thrill her so, she had no idea, but it did.

She would flirt with Don Juan and dance with him.

And?

Who knew? She might do something totally out of character for her, like make out with the guy in a darkened alcove.

Live a little.

Take a chance.

Carpe diem.

Just the idea of taking a walk on the wild side caused her throat to constrict and her palms to perspire.

“Go back out there and flirt with Don Juan,” Kay insisted. “You’ve got nothing to lose.”

“Yeah,” Sadie agreed. “What’s the worst that can happen? He has no idea who you really are. Play the game. Have fun. You deserve it.”

“And just in case…” Kay opened her Gucci handbag and produced a roll of condoms.

“Kay!” Scandalized, Meggie slapped a hand over her mouth. She had never in her life had a one-night stand. Did she dare start now?

“Always be prepared.” Kay grinned and slipped the condoms into Meggie’s purse.

“I don’t need those. I’m not going to be doing anything like that.”

“You never know what might pop up.” Kay winked. “Better safe than sorry.”

Meggie nibbled her bottom lip. She was very open to suggestion right now—susceptible, vulnerable, fragile—and she knew it.

But that knowledge couldn’t quell her long-ignored need to shake up her complacent world. She would take Jesse’s betrayal and use it as a stepping-stone to a whole new Meggie. Why not?

And here were her dear friends, supporting her, encouraging her, egging her on with their spunky you-go-girl attitude. They recognized that she needed a little masculine admiration to repair her tattered ego. It seemed they knew her better than she knew herself.

She wanted this, Meggie realized with a start. She was twenty-nine years old, newly divorced and fighting off a deep-seated dread that life was sprinting by her at a dead run. This might be her last chance to really explore her limits and relish her youth.

Question was, did she have the courage to go for the gusto? Was she brave enough to reach for what she wanted? To explore the secret sexual fantasies she’d never shared with anyone? A weird sense of panic scampered through her. Did she possess enough chutzpah to initiate something wickedly wonderful with Don Juan?

Or was she going to end up a lonely old spinster with a houseful of Siamese cats, pining sadly for what might have been?

Take a risk. Who knows what you’ll discover about yourself? whispered an audacious voice in the back of her mind—the voice she’d spent a lifetime denying because it scared her so.

Go for it. You may never have a chance like this again.

“METROPOLITAN WOULD LIKE to thank the Bachelors of Bear Creek for taking out that wonderful advertisement. You guys single-handedly boosted the magazine’s circulation by twenty percent.” Kay Scofield stood on the stage at the back of the community center, microphone in hand, her husband, Quinn, by her side.

She smiled at Quinn with a shining love that made Caleb’s gut hitch with jealousy. All the bachelors had found someone to love except him.

“And on a more personal note…” Kay stared deeply into her husband’s eyes “…I want to thank you for making me the happiest woman in the world, Quinn. I’m honored to be your wife.”

“Aww!” The crowd sighed in unison when Kay stood on tiptoes to kiss her husband, who was dressed, appropriately enough for his size, as Paul Bunyan.

“This party is also to celebrate the impending marriage of Sadie Stanhope and Jake Gerard.” Kay scanned the audience. “Sadie and Jake, please take a bow.”

Liam, the disc jockey, shone the spotlight on Jake and Sadie, who were swaying together in the middle of the dance floor. Jake waved his hand and Sadie blew kisses to the crowd.

Caleb shook his head and grinned to himself. Those two were a pair. He’d never thought fun-loving Jake would settle down, but Jake had met his match in Sadie.

“Wedding is December 16 at our B and B,” Jake said. “Remember, you’re all invited.”

“And Cammie Jo Lockhart and Mack McCaulley,” Kay continued, “are you out there?” She raised a hand to her forehead to scan the crowd.

Liam flashed the spotlight to the corner of the room, interrupting the two lovebirds in the throes of a deep kiss.

Someone whooped with delight. Cammie Jo blushed and ducked her head. Mack grinned like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. The audience applauded.

In a very short time Bear Creek had changed considerably, and mostly for the better. Not only had Caleb’s three best friends gotten hitched or engaged, but the population had grown from fifteen hundred to almost two thousand.

Some of the ladies that had arrived in response to the ad had fallen in love with Alaska and decided to stay, even though they hadn’t found a husband. Some of the fellows from surrounding communities had moved in, hoping to catch the eye of one of those ladies. Bear Creek was growing and changing from a summer tourist resort into a real town. Part of Caleb liked the changes. Another part of him feared his hometown might one day lose its rustic appeal as an increase in population tamed the wilderness.

“The ad’s success rate stands at seventy-five percent,” Kay continued, once everyone had settled down. “That’s pretty darned impressive, but the magazine would love a hundred percent success rate. There’s only one bachelor left. Caleb, where are you?”

He took a step back, not interested in being thrust into the spotlight.

“Caleb?” Kay called out. “Come on up here.”

That’s when he realized no one knew he was dressed as Don Juan. Relief washed through him. All he had to do was keep quiet. He didn’t want Klondike Kate to know he was the millionaire bachelor, which would seriously alter her perception of him. At least for tonight he wished to remain incognito.

“Caleb, where are you?” Kay coaxed.

Meggie cocked her head to one side and peered through the crowd, hoping to spy her ex-stepbrother-in-law. She hadn’t seen much of Caleb this summer—he’d been too busy fending off love-starved ladies, while she’d been sequestered at home taking care of her mother.

But since she was catching the first plane out of Anchorage tomorrow morning, this would be the last chance she’d have to say goodbye. She was very happy that her divorce from Jesse hadn’t caused any hard feelings between them; Caleb was a good, stable, honest man. The kind of guy she should have married.

“Caleb?” Kay repeated for the third time, but he did not appear. “Anyone seen Caleb?”

Meggie wasn’t surprised, although she felt disappointed. Caleb wasn’t much of one for parties or crowds.

“Well, I guess all you single ladies are out of luck. Seems our most eligible bachelor has flown the coop,” Kay said. “But on a positive note, the buffet is now open for business. Enjoy, everyone.”

Meggie kept searching the crowd, but when her gaze landed on Don Juan, she forgot all about Caleb.

Don Juan was talking to a razor-thin woman in a black cat suit. Meggie immediately felt fat and dumpy in contrast. She shook off that feeling. She wasn’t going to think negatively. So what if she was a size twelve and not a size two? Just because her ex had preferred rail-thin women, that didn’t mean everyone did.

Don Juan turned slightly, and she could see his stunning profile made all the more intriguing by the camouflage of his mask. She stared at his full, ripe mouth.

What would he taste like?

She knew the answer deep within the most hidden parts of her. He would taste like sin. She pursed her lips and slowly released a pent-up sigh.

He angled his head, caught sight of her from his peripheral vision and smiled very, very slightly, as if he harbored a hundred sexy secrets. No one else in the building would have noticed the glance, the smile, so subtle was his execution.

But Meggie did.

Go on over and put on a show. Pretend to be Klondike Kate.

She wanted to, but she was afraid of so many things. Like making a mistake, or getting in too deep.

How deep could you sink, Meggie? You’re leaving town tomorrow morning, never to see Don Juan again.

Not knowing exactly how to deal with her unexpected sexual desires, she sought sublimation. The buffet beckoned. She hurried over to the table, picked up a plate and started down the serving line.

With a cocktail fork, she leaned over to spear a moist, pink shrimp, but before she could retrieve her succulent prize, someone on the other side of the table got to it first.

“Hey,” she protested, then raised her head and caught Don Juan’s stare head-on.

He stood before her, the fat, slick shrimp impaled on his fork. Leaning forward, he dangled the seafood mere inches from her lips. Damn if he didn’t possess a small, wicked smile tilting up one corner of his mouth.

Meggie’s stomach did the hula and her knees loosened. She had the sudden urge to sit right down on the floor so she wouldn’t topple over from his body heat.

“I will share with you, belladonna,” he murmured with his captivating Spanish accent, rolling the word belladonna around in his mouth, savoring it as if it was the finest Belgian chocolate money could buy.

Slowly, Don Juan lowered the shrimp until it lightly brushed her bottom lip. Meggie flicked out her tongue to whisk away a drop of juice. Audibly, he sucked in his breath, his eyes never leaving her face.

Her heart careened into her rib cage, and she felt oddly enchanted. Determined not to let him know exactly how much he had affected her, Meggie shrugged and stepped back.

“On second thought I think I’ll skip the shrimp,” she said, affecting Klondike Kate’s uncultured inflection.

“Why is that?” he whispered. “Are you afraid?”

“Afraid?” She avoided looking into his eyes again.

“What’s there to be afraid of?”

“Some say shrimp is an aphrodisiac.”

“Old wives’ tale,” she pronounced, really getting into the gold-rush madam’s brogue.

“So why not take a bite and see?”

He was flirting with her, no doubt about it. Meggie didn’t know what to do. It had been a very long time since someone had flirted so openly with her. She wanted the attention and yet she didn’t.

“No, thanks.”

“Ahh,” he said knowingly. “I understand.”

In spite of her best intentions not to meet his eyes again, Meggie had to slip a quick glance his way to see what he was ahhing about. She was immediately sorry she had. Sympathy for her shone on his face.

Damn. She didn’t need his pity. She didn’t want anyone’s pity, and she’d spent the past six months trying to convince everyone in Bear Creek of that fact. Now here was this masked stranger, reading her every emotion as if he truly knew her.

“You’ve been hurt by love.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Anyone over the age of eighteen has been hurt by love.”

“But you’ve been hurt recently and you’re afraid to try again.”

“Hush up,” she insisted, but her pulse sprinted through her bloodstream.

How could he know this about her? Who was he? Was he from her hometown? If so, then who was he? No local man had ever set her libido to whirling the way this guy did. Bear Creek was too small, everyone too much like family.

“He has made you doubt your desirability as a woman,” Don Juan said. “He is a terrible bastard. Do not concern yourself with him.”

Her chest suddenly felt tight and she had the strangest urge to laugh and cry all at the same time.

“Look at me,” he insisted. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you’re not in pain.”

For pity’s sake. With a sigh of exasperation, Meggie stared him squarely in the face.

And lost herself.

With that warm smile and lusty expression in his eyes, Don Juan made her feel womanly, wanted and appreciated. Cherished. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a very, very long time.

Entranced, she felt ensnared in a provocative reverie. A dreamy vagueness settled over her, wrapping her in a warm envelope of altered perception. She didn’t know if it was the masks or the wine or Don Juan’s solicitous smile, but she experienced a drowsy sense of peace.

Something about him seemed comfortingly familiar, as if she’d met him in another life. Except Meggie didn’t believe in that stuff. Even though she couldn’t exactly explain why, she felt safe in his presence.