Melting His Alaskan Heart (2 page)

She’d traveled all the way across the country for this job with
Alaska Today
magazine. Granted, she’d hated New York and her job as an editor for a home décor magazine there, and she had jumped at the chance to move to Alaska, but Harv Cushman was completely different in person than he’d been on the phone.

Her mother had warned her not to move to Alaska until she’d visited. But Carly only listened to her gut, and her gut had told her to move to the Last Frontier. She had always jumped in without thinking first. It was a terrible flaw, but she wasn’t about to run back home with her tail tucked between her legs without giving this job her all.

Her skin still crawled over Mr. Cushman’s insinuation about her being an attractive woman who could figure out how to get Dane Forrester to give her an interview. She knew Dane was renowned for his bad relationship with the press. The guy never gave interviews. Some players were all about cameras and attention, but not Dane.

She’d suck it up and find a way to speak with him. She never backed down from a challenge before; she wasn’t about to start now.

She marched out of the bathroom and headed toward the hotel lobby. Harv Cushman was an ass. She’d heard he was like a pit bull when it came to getting stories. But who would have thought
Alaska Today
got the stories that were tough to get because the owner threatened to fire his staff otherwise? Damn him.

Would he really fire her if she didn’t produce this story? She didn’t want to believe him but couldn’t risk finding out. If getting an interview meant wearing this ridiculous get-up, then she’d take one for the team. Only she was a one-woman team with no backup, or second string, or plan B.

A group of women rushed past her. They wore skimpy outfits just like hers. Nice to know she fit in. One of the women said Dane Forrester was here. Carly sucked in a deep breath. A sense of calm settled within her. She would find a way to get an interview with Forrester; she was sure of it.

A
PPREHENSION SIEVED
through Ethan as he stepped out of the limo in front of the Captain Cook hotel. Before he could get his balance and formulate a game plan, cameras started flashing, followed by shouts of “Dane! Dane!”

At least the hoax worked. However, fooling Dane’s teammates might be another matter, but he’d call on Trent and Sven to run interference if necessary to pull off the masquerade. As long as upper management thought Dane had attended the event, he shouldn’t have any problems.

Ethan flipped up his sleeve to check the time. Seven o’clock on the dot. He’d already made his first mistake. Dane was never on time for anything except hockey games. An hour tops, that was all he was going to stick around for, then he’d head to the penthouse suite and order room service. Actually, a massage sounded good. What else could he charge to Dane’s account? He’d think of something.

At the hotel’s front desk, Ethan picked up his room key card. “I’ll get your bag taken up to your room, sir.” The registration clerk looked at him with adoring fan eyes he’d seen when he attended events with Dane in the past. She glanced down the length of the desk, leaned forward and asked, “We aren’t supposed to fraternize with guests, but would you mind terribly if I could get your autograph? My son is a huge fan.”

“Of course,” Ethan replied. “What’s your son’s name?”

“Timmy.” The clerk handed Ethan a piece of paper. “He’s six years old. We love coming to the Fury games. We try to come as often as we can.”

Ethan signed the piece of paper in the same sloping handwriting he’d seen Dane use. “Why don’t you write down your name and address? I’ll send you and your son a ticket to our next home game.”

The clerk’s eyes bulged and she stared at him. “Really? Oh, my gosh, we’d love that. But there’s my husband too. Would it be too much to ask for three seats?”

“Three tickets it is. No problem at all.” So far, being Dane wasn’t so bad.

He swiped the paper with the information she’d written down off the counter and stuffed it in his front trouser pocket. He grinned to himself. Yep, he was going to make Dane pay.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Forrester. You can’t know how much this is going to mean to Timmy.”

“I’m happy to do it.” And he was.

Ethan strolled through the lobby and made his way to the room where the costume party commenced. He steeled his spine, hoping no one would talk to him. Well, unless it was Sven or Trent. He’d have to look for them first thing. Two tall women approached him—a Cat Woman and a Lady Pirate. They looped their arms around Ethan’s. Cat Woman purred in his ear. “Are we on for tonight?”

“Er—no, we aren’t.” Did Dane have plans with this woman and didn’t bother to tell him? Didn’t matter, either way, the answer was still the same. “Sorry, but no.”

“Ah…” She stuck out her glossy red bottom lip. “That’s too bad.”

Not really, he thought to himself. He needed a drink if he was going to make it through the next hour. He unhooked his arms from the ladies’. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to see one of my teammates.”

“Running off so soon?” Lady Pirate murmured and gave him a wink.

“Yeah, but maybe I’ll see you later.” He hoped not, but that was what Dane would say.

“Let’s plan on it,” Lady Pirate called.

Ethan made his escape. Scanning the room for the nearest bar, he decided Dane wasn’t kidding about the number of hot women attending this shindig. He tried not to stare, but he was more than certain Auntie Em wouldn’t allow “Dorothy” out the door with a skirt that short. Every costume imaginable crossed in front of him as he zigzagged through the crowd in search of alcohol.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of fending off more women, he gave up on locating Trent or Sven and found at empty seat at the bar. The bartender brought the beer he ordered.

The amber liquid cooled his throat and soothed his nerves. He set down the glass mug and swiped the foam off his upper lip.

A woman’s voice sounded from behind him. “Is this seat taken?”

Ethan stared at the empty seat beside him and couldn’t come up with a good lie. Besides, if he was supposed to be Dane, he should probably have more than a two-second conversation with a woman. “No, go right ahead.”

She slid onto the bar stool before he swiveled his chair to look at her. Speechless, Ethan surveyed the exquisite silken angel beside him. Trying to think fast about what Dane might say, he blurted, “Did I just land in heaven?”

“I don’t know.” She blinked. “Did you?”

Ethan couldn’t believe he’d said such an idiotic thing, but the hourglass figure of the woman clad in the strapless get-up with ample cleavage left him full-on hard. So unskilled at basic flirting, he decided keeping his mouth shut and his eyes averted would be the best course of action. Quit trying to say what Dane would say. Just make an appearance and leave.

She ordered a Long Island iced tea before turning her attention back to Ethan and extended her hand. “I’m Carly Hughes.”

Ethan swallowed before grasping her hand. Partially hidden behind a mask, her eyes gleamed with the most brilliant shade of green. “Eee—Dane Forrester, nice to meet you.”

“Are you enjoying the party?” she asked.

He unclasped his hand from hers. A bolt of something sizzling hot passed between them. Reaching for a lifeline, he embraced his mug with interlacing fingers and hung on tight. “Yes.”

“I just moved to Anchorage, but I figured a literacy council charity event sponsored by the Alaska Fury would be a great way to meet people.” She readjusted her bottom on her bar stool and crossed her legs, bumping his shin in the process. “Excuse me.”

Ethan gave a curt nod and chugged his beer. He had to admit being hidden behind the knight’s half-mask was a nice benefit. He didn’t have to feel self-conscious about his scarred face. He wasn’t one for social engagements anyway, but he willed himself to relax.

The bartender returned with her Long Island iced tea. “That’ll be eleven fifty.”

Carly reached for her purse, opened it up and rifled through its contents. “Oh, my goodness, did I…I think I forgot my wallet.”

Ethan stood up and dug out his wallet. He hadn’t forgotten all his manners. “Please, allow me.”

“All right.” She put her purse away.

“Sorry, I should have offered in the first place,” Ethan mumbled, opening up his wallet. “I don’t get out much.”

She cocked an eyebrow above the edge of her mask. “You, Dane Forrester, don’t get out much?”

“I mean, I haven’t been out lately—as in a few days. I mean I…” Ethan decided he’d be better off making a hasty retreat. “Forget I ever said that. I’m distracted.” He held his empty mug an extra three seconds before setting it down. Maybe more alcohol would numb his embarrassment. He called out to the bartender, “Could I get another Bud, please?”

Why on God’s snow-covered earth did he ever agree to this charade? He wasn’t good at being
Ethan
Forrester—let alone Dane Forrester. He wasn’t good at being anyone other than a part-time fireman and half-assed welder.

Silence fell between them. Music and dancing started on the opposite end of the room. The bartender returned with his beer. Ethan slid him a ten dollar bill. “Thanks.”

He glanced at his wristwatch. Only twenty-five minutes had passed since he’d arrived. He didn’t know how to talk to women anymore, let alone a gorgeous woman like the one beside him. She wasn’t tall enough to be a model, but she was pretty enough to be one. She’d recently moved to the area, she probably didn’t know a soul. The least he could do was welcome her to the Last Frontier. “So, Carly, what brings you to Alaska?”

She drank her iced tea at record speed. Maybe she was just as nervous as he was.

“I’m going to be completely honest with you, Mr. Forrester.” The words whirled out of her in quick succession. “I just moved here for a job. A job with
Alaska Today
. I know you don’t give interviews, but I’m desperate here.” Her shoulders slumped before she reached for her drink and chugged the last of it down. “I don’t have a dime to my name. I’m so sorry, I didn’t forget my wallet—I just don’t have any money.”

She stopped to take a breath, so Ethan took the opportunity to say, “I’m happy to pay for your drink. It’s no problem.”

“I spent all my money moving here and then on this stupid costume. Then the second I get here my new boss says, ‘Get the story or get out.’ ” She spun in her chair and leaned in closer to him. Her breath smelled of mint and tea. “I really believe he’s going to fire me if I don’t get an interview with you.”

Ethan stared at her. His pulse raced. Her red hair looked so silky, he wanted to touch it. “I don’t think your costume is stupid.”

“You don’t?” Her voice sounded sincere. Apparently, she didn’t realize how hot she looked. She seemed genuine, but Ethan didn’t trust his instincts where women were concerned. He’d been out of the running for too long.

“Bartender, can we get the lady another drink?” The intoxicating nearness of her made his heart thud like it hadn’t done in years. “I guess I should have asked. Would you like another drink?”

“Yes, thank you. I had it all planned out, you know.” She moved her hands when she talked. He eyed her pink lips. They were full and pouty and…
kissable
.

Yes, she was attractive, but kissable or not, his time here was almost done.

“I was going to flirt with you and find a way to entice you into giving me an interview, but I’m no good at flirting. I’m the type of person to just lay it out on the line. Be honest and up front about everything.”

Gulp
. A stab of guilt sliced at his gut.

“Don’t you agree?” She sipped more of her tea.

“Of course. Yes.” More guilt. More stabbing. He swallowed. “But sometimes there’s a good reason for people to not be completely honest.” Where was this coming from? Must be the beer speaking.

She scrunched up her pert little nose and her eyebrows turned inward. “Like when?”

He shrugged. Think fast. “Like when my mom cooks her famous hot dish casserole. I don’t like it, but I tell her I love it.”

She propped one elbow on the glossy oak bar and leaned in closer to him. “Why is it famous then?”

Perspiration beaded on his forehead. “Because it’s famously bad.”

Carly laughed and the delicious sound brushed over his skin. For a brief moment, he understood why his mother and sister harped on him to get out more. He didn’t laugh enough. Or listen to other people laugh.

She twirled the tea around in her glass. “I’m not so sure everything they say about you is true.”

“Oh, yeah, how’s that?” Ethan stared at her lips, then moved his gaze to her neck and shoulders.
Freckles.
She had lovely, subtle freckles. Almost invisible, but not quite.

“Well, they say you never talk about your personal life and especially your family, but look at you. You just did.”

“That’s because we’re off the record.” He reminded himself he was Dane. Focus. Dane didn’t talk to the press, yet here he was doing it. “What was it you said earlier about flirting with me?”

She smiled. Straight white teeth, green eyes hidden behind a mask, gorgeous red wavy hair made to run your hands through. This conversation needed to stop. He couldn’t reveal information about Dane. Well, he could, but he shouldn’t.

She ran her tongue along her kissable bottom lip. “I said I intended on flirting with you, to convince you to give me an interview.”

He crossed his arms and leaned back on the bar stool. “Well, by all means, go ahead.”

She slugged him on the shoulder. “I just spilled my guts to you. Can’t you help a girl out?”

He flinched and rubbed his shoulder. “I don’t know that punching me is the way to accomplish your goal.”

“No, I don’t suppose it is.” She laughed again. He loved that sound.

Two costumed hockey players headed his way. One was dressed as some type of Spanish conquistador and the other wore tight black slacks with a matching shirt buttoned halfway down his chest. They strolled up behind him. “Buddy, where you been?”

Ethan turned and recognized Sven and Trent. Good, now he had backup. “Right here.”