Дебби Макомбер - Starry Night

“I like you, Finn,” she said as they claimed the chairs by the fire.

“Excuse me?” He arched one thick brow as though questioning her.

“With few exceptions, I’ve enjoyed spending this time with you.”

“Really?” Her announcement appeared to amuse him. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms as though he expected her to elaborate.

She rocked a bit before answering. “I’m not going to feed your ego.”

“Come on. Why not?”

Carrie had trouble holding back a smile “Okay, fine,” she said, “you’re so authentic. You are who you are and you aren’t willing to apologize for it. I like that.”

Actually, she was strongly attracted to the fact that Finn was a man’s man, but she wasn’t willing to admit it. His strength didn’t come from working out in some gym but from living life.

She found he was staring at her, and so she continued, “Covering the society page the way I do, you can’t imagine how many men … and women I meet who only care about money, appearances, superficial things. Oh, don’t get me started, but you … you’re a refreshing change.”

“I’m highly intelligent,” he added.

She laughed. “And humble, too, I see.”

“Touché.” He chuckled and then asked, “What about good-looking?”

“I don’t feel qualified to answer that,” she said, and cocked her head from one side to the other as though assessing his looks.

“Why not?” he challenged.

She flexed her fingers over her own cheeks. “It’s hard to tell with your entire face covered with that beard.”

“True, but you should be able to take my word for it. Besides, beards are a necessity here in Alaska.”

“Someone should have told me and I would have grown one,” she joked.

He smiled back, and it seemed like their gazes caught and held for an extra-long moment. In order to break the spell, she looked away and added, “You’re a good conversationalist.”

He frowned at her comment. “Too good.”

Their conversation continued for another hour. Carrie discovered that they had a surprising amount in common and agreed on a number of issues; they both loved reading thrillers and were big football fans, especially of the Seattle Seahawks. On others, they were diametrically opposed, the foremost being politics. What struck her, what she found devastatingly attractive about him, was the fact that he could laugh at himself and about Alaska. Finn possessed a wonderful dry wit. When she asked him about the rumor that Alaska was full of bachelors, he replied, “You know what they say about Alaska, don’t you? It’s where the men are men, and so are the women.”

Carrie tried unsuccessfully to hide her laugh, nearly choking with the effort. Once she composed herself she recited something she’d read on a T-shirt. “I heard that if a woman is looking for a husband in Alaska, her odds are good but the goods are odd.”

Finn laughed in return, and then it happened again. Their gazes caught and held for what seemed like an eternity, as neither one of them was keen to break the contact.

Carrie hadn’t been joking; she enjoyed Finn’s company. The more she got to know him, the stronger her feelings became. Before long, they’d finished off the bottle of wine. Then Finn suggested a rematch of their cribbage game.

“Only this time whoever wins the match gets the bed tonight,” he suggested.

Carrie didn’t need to think twice about this wager. “You’re on.” The only decent sleep she’d had the night before had been in Finn’s bed, and that had been right before morning. She remembered wrapping herself up in the warm quilts, surrounded by the scent of Finn. The sofa had been lumpy, and half the night she’d shivered with cold. It’d been an uncomfortable experience. The one bonus was having Hennessey with her.

Once again Finn brought out the cribbage board and the cards, and they sat down across from each other as they had before. They cut the cards, and Finn won for the deal. As he shuffled the deck, he made light conversation, almost as if he was looking to distract her.

“You said you work for the Chicago Herald ?”

“Yeah.” She caught the cards as he dealt them to her. “The society page, like I said earlier.”

Finn arched his brows.

“I’m fortunate to have a job with such a prestigious newspaper, but quite honestly, Finn, this isn’t the type of writing I want to do.” The thought of returning to Chicago and immediately being thrust into a series of parties and other social events filled her with dread.

“So that’s the reason you went to such desperate lengths to find me.”

“Right. An article on you would change everything for me.” She glanced up hopefully, but his expression remained blank. He didn’t need to tell her his feelings on the matter; they’d already been well stated. But she would write the article. The nearly thirty-six hours she’d spent in his company had proved he was everything he’d claimed in his book and more.

Finn laid down his first card, and she immediately added her own.

Carrie would like to think that it was because she was distracted by their conversation that she handily lost the first game.

“No fair,” she muttered.

“Are you suggesting I cheated?” he asked, and seemed to enjoy her loss far too much.

“No, but you distracted me, got me thinking about … work.”

“That’s a convenient excuse, and you know it. The fact is I played a superior game.”

“Sure you did,” she muttered sarcastically, and reached for the deck. “We’re playing for the match, remember.”

“Why don’t you rest your brain for a few minutes?” Finn suggested, his voice dripping with pretend sympathy. He rose from the table and came to stand behind her, and placed his hands on her shoulders. He rubbed and kneaded the knotted flesh as shivers of awareness shot down her spine. Giving in to his touch, Carrie closed her eyes with a sigh and let her head drop forward. This was divine. It might have been her imagination, but for just an instant she thought she felt his breath against the side of her neck as if he’d bent over to kiss it. His touch was so light, so tender, that it could well have been wishful thinking. From everything Finn had said, he was more than eager to be rid of her.

“What I need,” she said, scooting back her chair, anxious to break this trance that had come over her, “is some fresh air.” As it was, the room seemed overwhelmingly stuffy. The storm was over, and the night appeared relatively peaceful.

Handing Carrie her coat, Finn walked her to the front door. When she stepped outside, her arms immediately went about her middle as her gaze went to the star-filled heavens. In all her life, Carrie had never seen so many stars. Thousands upon thousands of pinpricks of twinkling light dotted the sky, mesmerizing her.

“Oh, my,” she whispered, caught up in the magic of the moment. “This is unbelievable.”

Finn came to stand behind her, his hands on her shoulders. “I never grow tired of this view,” he whispered.

“No wonder. It’s incredible. Awesome. Breathtaking.”

“Now look north.” He turned her halfway around so that she faced the arctic.

Carrie gasped. The sky was filled with wave upon wave of color—gold, bronze, and lavender arced across the night sky. “Is that the … aurora borealis?”

“You’ve never seen it before?”

“No. Of course, I’ve heard about it, but I had no idea it was this beautiful, this dramatic.” Just watching the northern lights dance their seductive ballet chased off the chill of the frigid night. Then Carrie realized the source of this toasty feeling was Finn’s arms, which surrounded her. He’d tucked his warm body close to hers, warding off the frigid night air.