Melting His Alaskan Heart (6 page)

Of course he had a key. He strode down the hall toward her. “You know you really should have something on besides a sheet. Anyone could come out of their room and see you.”

“Really? You don’t say.” She propped one hand on her toga-clad hip.

Ethan dug the key card out of his wallet. Standing next to her again sent his pulse into overdrive. He wanted to get the heck away from her. He slipped the key card into the door and held it open.

“Are you going to come back into the room, or are we going to talk here in the hallway?” She leaned against the doorframe.

“I said I’d get you the interview. There’s nothing left to talk about.” He kept his hand pressed against the door to keep it from closing.

“But I think there is a lot to talk about. You have to understand that I’m still in a bit of shock. I expected to see one person in my bed and instead I see—”

“Someone who should have never been in your bed. I get that. I understand.” Ethan didn’t want to listen to how she should have been with someone else. “I’m sorry.”

“There you go again—interrupting me. I’m perfectly capable of deciding who is in my bed or not. I can take care of myself. I make my own choices.”

Across the hall, a door opened and an elderly man set his breakfast tray in the hallway. His eyes opened wide and he gave Carly an appreciative stare. Not much different than Ethan himself had done when he first saw her wrapped in her sheet. She looked like a Greek goddess. The only thing missing was a piece of fig in her disheveled hair.

“So, are we going to keep talking in the hallway where everyone can hear us, or are you coming in?” she asked.

Ethan didn’t miss the look of disapproval the old man shot him before clicking his door shut, and he knew with certainty that he still watched them through his door’s peep hole.

“We can go inside, for more privacy, but there isn’t anything left to say.” He ushered her ahead of him, careful not to make contact with the small of her back like his hand unwittingly wanted to do.

The door shut behind them and Carly swung around. “It’s not every day I go to bed with one man and wake up with another. I need a little time to process all this, and I need coffee. Do you think you could order some room service and we can talk?”

Ethan’s heart raced. He wasn’t good at talking. He wasn’t used to being this vulnerable. Openly discussing his decision to deceive her wasn’t on his list of top ten things to do; in fact, it wouldn’t make any list of his. “There’s nothing to talk about. We’ve said everything that needs saying.”

“I’m a journalist. I know how to get a story. In fact, I’m pretty good at peeling the layers away from people in order to get them to talk. And let me just say, it will not benefit you to argue with me on this point.”

“Okay.” He crossed his arms over his chest and realized he’d left Dane’s costume in the room. He also realized that whatever she wrote could go very badly for Dane if he wasn’t careful.

“Are you going to order room service for us? Or am I?”

The woman’s flippant attitude stirred his anger. She’d seemed so innocent and angelic last night sliding up to the bar next to him. Regardless, he could order her some coffee. She apparently wasn’t a morning person and besides, he wouldn’t mind adding more to Dane’s bill. If not for him, he wouldn’t be dealing with all this now. “I’d be happy to. What would you like besides coffee? Anything?”

“Scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast.”

A woman an appetite. “Anything else?”

“If they have raspberry jelly, that would be nice.”

Right. “Sure. I’ll ask.”

“Great.”

“Would you like some juice?”

“No, I’m good with coffee. Thanks.”

Their conversation had gotten awfully cordial in these quick answers to basic questions, but beneath the words held an undercurrent of hostility. Ethan questioned how she’d maneuvered him back into this room. He most definitely did not want to sit and chat, but at this point, he saw no other choice.

Carly’s hips swayed as she strolled across the penthouse suite. “I’ll take a quick shower while we wait for the food.” She stopped and swiveled around. “I need to clear my head.” She narrowed her pretty gaze at him. “You aren’t going to leave again, are you?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Just a feeling.”

Yes, he wanted to leave, but he wasn’t a coward, so he’d stay and listen to what she had to say. On an end table, he reached for the room service menu.

“I don’t trust you. I’m going to stay here till the food arrives. I’m thinking I shouldn’t let you out of my sight.” She leaned against the door like a guard dog.

“Suit yourself.” Ethan picked up the phone and ordered everything Carly wanted, plus the raspberry jelly.

He sat on the sofa on the far side of the sitting room as far away from Carly as he could be. “Are you going to put something on besides a sheet?”

“I suppose I could put my angel costume back on, but I sure would kill for a pair of sweat pants and a tee shirt.”

“There’s a gift shop in the lobby, I’d be happy to get some other clothes for you.” And he’d get some distance from her too. A win-win all the way around.

“I might let you do that. But here’s the deal: I’ve decided I don’t want your help in securing an interview with your brother. I can do it myself. While I appreciate your offer, I can manage on my own just fine.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Unless it’s written into his contract, he doesn’t give interviews.”

“That’s what I’ve heard.” She moved to the chair across from him with only a glass coffee table sitting between them.

“And yet, you don’t want my help.” Ethan crossed his arms.

“No, as I said, I can manage on my own just fine.”

“I’m sure you can.” Stubbornness aside, he didn’t doubt the determined sheet-clad woman across from him was extremely capable; however, she didn’t know his brother. He did.

And while he wanted to help her—to set things right between them and relieve his own guilt, maybe it would be best if she talked to Dane herself. That way, he would never have to see her again.

She fiddled with an edge of the sheet, not making eye contact with him. “So that’s it then. We can put this behind us and move on as friends?”

This completely caught him off guard. Friends? Seriously? He assumed she’d never want to see him again. He’d not been honest with her. Besides, his scarred face often frightened people. He didn’t have many friends. “You want to be friends?”

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

“But I tricked you.”

“I told you to keep your mask on. I’m not completely blameless in this.” She tucked the sheet more tightly under her armpits. “I couldn’t let you leave without me saying…that I’d like to be friends.”

He would not be friends with this woman, but if she wanted to believe they’d be friends, so be it. Either way, he didn’t do relationships with women—friends or otherwise. “Would you like me to go downstairs to get some other clothes for you?”

“Are you going to acknowledge my request for friendship or just ignore me and talk about my clothes?”

“I have no intention of being friends with you.” He stood and dug into his wallet for his Forrester Lodge business card, pulled it out and slapped it on the glass coffee table. He placed the room’s key card down, as well. “If you change your mind about wanting my help with Dane, you can reach me at this number.”

He strode toward the door.

“Wait!” Carly called from behind him. “Here I am trying to be nice—cordial and taking some of the blame for what happened between us—and you’re just being an ass.”

Exactly,
Ethan thought,
and the sooner you find out, the better off you’ll be
. He opened the door and left.

CHAPTER 7

In the week since Carly had hooked up with Ethan, she had gone through the proper channels to interview Dane. She called his agent like a good reporter should do. When the agent asked her name twice during the course of the conversation, she knew she was toast. Although the agent recognized the name of
Alaska Today
magazine, he still wouldn’t arrange an interview for her.

Carly chugged down a swallow of soda and set her glass down on the bar. No glasses of wine or Long Island iced teas for her tonight. She’d been watching the Alaska Fury on television at the bar known to be the hangout for all the players after the game. The game had been over for an hour. Certainly, they would be arriving soon.

Her passion for sports had driven her entire life. She focused on this to keep her mind away from thinking about Ethan Forrester. She had accepted every sports freelance job imaginable to create some kind of small name for herself. Apparently Dane’s agent hadn’t heard of her or pretended he’d never heard of her, but she wasn’t about to let something as small as an agent stop her.

Harv Cushman had given her an impossible task. He was testing her. And to think she all but had the perfect interview opportunity and had blown it. It wasn’t like her to have more than a couple of drinks or be taken in by a sports figure. She’d interviewed lots of charismatic sports stars. So what had been so different about Dane?

Actually a lot! Because she hadn’t been talking to Dane, at all. She’d been talking with his brother. The sexy mask, with his unassuming manner, his quick wit, his full sensuous mouth, everything about him had drawn her in. He’d cast a spell over her. A knight in shiny armor spell.

None of the players would be wearing masks now and she wouldn’t be tricked. The bartender, a young woman probably close to her age, wearing a plethora of tattoos down her left arm asked, “Would you like another Sprite?”

“Sure, I guess so. Looks like I’m going to be here awhile.”

“Why’s that?” the bartender asked.

“I’m waiting for the team to arrive. I’m a sports journalist and my assignment is to get an interview with Dane Forrester.”

“Good luck with that,” she said and took Carly’s glass.

“Yeah, thanks. From what I hear, I’m going to need all the luck I can get.”

“I’m going to guess he won’t show up tonight.” The bartender filled the glass with soda, took out a fresh napkin and set her drink on top of it in front of her.

“Why’s that?” Carly asked.

“The team has a weekend break now. He’ll probably go to his family’s lodge in Gold Creek.”

Carly recalled Ethan talking about his home there. He’d mentioned snowmobiling too. “Really? But he doesn’t live there, does he?”

“He travels back and forth between Gold Creek and Anchorage.”

Carly had spent two days looking at the Forrester Lodge business card Ethan had handed her. So tempted to call him and ask for his help. She knew she was being stubborn, but how could she talk to him again and look at him again without wanting him? A man had never affected her the way Ethan had.

She should have known he wasn’t a professional athlete because she’d never been drawn to sports stars. They were always full of conceit and unabashed confidence. She’d never been attracted to that type of man, although she admired and respected their talent.

Ethan had been humble and sweet, shy even.

The bartender leaned toward her. “Don’t look now, but here they come.”

Carly swiveled her bar stool around. Her eyes instantly went to the lineup of men entering the bar. She searched for Dane’s dark cropped hair. The same hair as Ethan, although from the photos she’d seen, Dane kept his hair even shorter.

Two familiar faces strode toward her, Dane’s linemates, Trent and Sven.

Trent, looking much more casual since he wasn’t wearing the tight figure skater getup he’d had at the party, had eyes for no one except the bartender. “Hey, Iris, how are you doing?”

“What can I get you?” Iris asked.

Carly couldn’t help but notice a bit of tension between the two. Iris wiped the counter and wouldn’t make eye contact with Trent.

“My usual.” Trent leaned into the bar with one elbow and looked directly at Carly. “Don’t I know you?”

Iris replied, “Oh, is she one of your conquests, too?”

Carly’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth to speak, but Trent spoke next. “You know I only have eyes for you, baby.”

“Uh huh, what do you want?”

“I think you know.” Trent leaned over the bar and Carly knew she had overheard something intimate.

Iris stopped wiping the countertop and eyed him with what could only been construed as contempt. “What do you want to drink, asshole?”

“I’m going to ignore the name calling and not report you to your boss. I’ll have my usual, a Corona.” He turned his attention to Carly without missing a beat, as though that type of banter went on between them every day. “I don’t think I’d forget that red hair anywhere. Weren’t you at the fundraiser the other night with Dane?”

“Yeah. And actually, speaking of Dane—” Carly glanced around the bar. “Is he here?”

“Nope.” Trent kept his eyes trained on Iris as she talked to other customers at the bar. Carly noticed the way he eyed her tight jeans and hips. These two had to know each other beyond the walls of this bar, or Trent certainly wished they had. “He flew out to his family’s lodge.”

Damn. How was she ever going to interview Dane if she couldn’t even get into the same room with him? “He can just fly out of Anchorage any time he wants?”

Carly knew what a stupid question she asked and immediately regretted speaking aloud.

“We have a break this weekend. His brother, Travis, picked him up.”

Well, of course he did. Harv had given her two weeks to get the story; so far five days had passed and she hadn’t even set eyes on Dane, except for on television.

“Are you still trying to get that interview?” Trent asked.

Carly gulped a swig of her soda. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“Ethan might help you out,” Trent said. “I assumed you would figure out you were having dinner with Ethan, not Dane.”

Carly felt her face heat. She suppressed the urge to give a sarcastic smirk. “Yes, I figured it out.”

“I would guess he’s going to be your only connection to the family. You might check with him. Dane doesn’t give interviews.”

God, she was sick of hearing that. “So I’ve been told.”

Iris returned and placed a glass of beer in front of Trent. “Do you want to start a tab?”